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OREGON REMEMBERS VIRGIL D. HIVELEY JUNE 01, 1932 - WATFORD CITY, NORTH DAKOTA FEBRUARY 17, 2008 - VERNONIA, OREGON VIRGIL DUANE HIVELEY was born June 1, 1932 in Watford City, North Dakota, the son of Everett E. and Helen (Wheeler) Hiveley. As a young boy he moved with his family to Oregon, settling in Corvallis, where Virgil graduated from high school in 1950. He was a Veteran of the Korean Conflict, having joined the United States Navy on January 9, 1951. Virgil served for 3 1/2 years until receiving his Honorable Discharge on November 17, 1954. Virgil was united in marriage to Helen Vaughn on January 2, 1955 in Bell Gardens, California. Following their marriage they made their home in Artesia, California until 1974 when they moved to Oregon, settling in the Vernonia community. While living in California, Virgil worked as a managing meat cutter in the Los Angeles area from 1954 to 1970. He then owned and operated his own family meat market, "Virgil's Fine Meats" until 1974. He also graduated from the Long Beach Reserve Police Academy and served as a reserve officer for the Los Angleles Police Department for two years. After moving to Oregon, Virgil worked at the Vernonia Market from 1974 to 1978 as the Manager of the Meat Department. From 1978 to 1983 he worked as the Plant Manager for the Willamette Poultry Company. In 1983, Virgil went to work for Lynden Farms in Portland, where he worked in Poultry Sales until 1994 when he retired. Among his interests, Virgil enjoyed bowling and golfing. He was an expert knife sharpener. Virgil enjoyed being with people and through the years had made many friends and acquaintances. He was preceded in death by his parents and a daughter, Sheri Wilson. Virgil is survived by his wife, Helen Hiveley of Vernonia: two daughters and sons-in-law, Robin and Steve Leone of Seattle, Washington and Dana and Tony Hyde of Vernonia; a son and daughter-in-law, Michael and Rhonda Hiveley of Milwaukie; a son-in-law, Mike Wilson of The Dalles; five brothers and sisters-in-law, Leo Hiveley of Boynton Beach, Florida; Jack and Barb Hiveley of Downey, California; Jim and Carolyn Hiveley of Indonesia; Del and Jan Hiveley of Woodburn; and Gene and Betty Hiveley of Rock Hill, South Carolina; two sisters, Eunice Abrahamsen of Camas, Washington and Bonnie Knepper of Aurora; nine grandchildren, Kirsten, Kortni, Hannah, Jared, Leah, Gabriel, Claire, Tessa and Isaac; and several nieces and nephews. Remembrances may be made to the Hydrocephalus Association, 870 Market Street, #705, San Francisco, California 94102 or to the Vernonia Senior Center, 446 Bridge Street, Vernonia, Oregon 97064, in Virgil's memory. A Celebration of Virgil's Life: Vernonia Community Church Vernonia, Oregon Sunday ~ February 23, 2008 ~ 12:00 Noon Officiating: Reverend Mike Wilson Assisting ~ Pastor Grant Williams Songs Led By: Vernonia Community Church Worship Team Selections: "Amazing Love", "Open The Eyes Of My Heart", "Hear I am to Worship" Bagpiper: Dennis Dillon ~ "Amazing Grace" Interment Held with Military Honors: Willamette National Cemetery Portland, Oregon Site: Section KK Site 1281 My Father's Chair When I was a child I would sit in my father's chair hoping and thinking that somehow I would gain my father's wisdom and strength by doing so. To me it was a throne. A place of power. That chair was either the source of his power or a place that collected the strength that he emanated. If I could just sit there while he was away I would receive that same strength, absorb what he left or what was made available to him. I too could become wise and strong, become a caretaker with a never ending ability to fix things, help people, do all the things that this man, my father, accomplished. When he came home I quickly gave up his chair, knowing that it was his chair. It was his place to sit and rest, to recharge, to regain his strength. It was his throne not mine. Every chance I got I sat in his chair. I hoped, I prayed, I asked "Please let me be like my father". I admired him and what he stood for. I went to work for him on a regular basis as a young child. This continued for many years through high school. The conversations he had with his customers and employees, both to their faces and behind their backs showed me that he meant what he said and he said what he meant. Ideas that I didn't know as a child but recognized that they meant something important to others, later became words that I understood as integrity, honesty, commitment, responsibility. My father was those words. And so I sat in his chair. I still hope and pray that I can be like my father. I am no longer a child, but I am my father's son. I know now where his strength, wisdom, and power came from. It came from his father, his Father above. There is a chair, a throne of power that exists. And though it is not ours to sit in we may still receive all that we need from the One who does sit there. We only need to ask. I love you dad, thanks for letting me sit in your chair. ~ Michael

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