Vernard Ray Mynatt

Vernard Ray Mynatt

May 18, 1930 – September 28, 2026

Vernard Ray Mynatt, lovingly known to his family and friends as Vern, was a man whose life was measured not only in years, but in the countless lives he touched, the things he created with his own hands, and the legacy he left behind.

Born on May 18, 1930, Vern was raised on a farm, where he learned early the value of hard work, determination, and making do with what you had. When he was old enough, he left home to join the Army. It was during those early days away from the farm that Vern experienced something he had never known before—indoor plumbing and electricity. It was just one of the many adventures that would begin a lifetime of learning, exploring, and figuring out how things worked.

After his military service, Vern settled in El Paso, Texas, where he dedicated himself to providing for his growing family. A hardworking man by nature, he often worked three or four jobs at a time to make sure his family had what they needed. He spent many years working at the Texaco refinery, eventually becoming an international welding inspector, a career that carried him around the world to refineries in many different countries.

But no matter how far his work took him, family was always at the center of Vern's world.

He was a devoted father who raised nine children and taught his sons—and anyone else who wanted to learn—the practical skills that defined him. He taught them how to fix a car, how to weld, how to build something from nothing, and most importantly, how to approach a problem with the confidence that if something was broken, you could probably figure out how to fix it. And Vern could fix just about anything.

He was an extraordinary mechanic and a true craftsman. He had a remarkable ability to look at a pile of parts, a piece of wood, a ball of yarn, or almost anything else and envision what it could become. Then, somehow, he would make it happen.

Vern loved automobiles. He built his own dune buggy and lovingly restored antique vehicles, proudly taking them to car shows where his craftsmanship often earned him ribbons. His creations were never simply things he made—they were expressions of his imagination, patience, and love for the craft.

That same creativity extended far beyond automobiles. Vern created beautiful things from wood, yarn, metal, and whatever else he happened to have available. And perhaps the most special thing about what he made was what he did with it afterward.

He gave it away.

He shared his creations with family, friends, neighbors, and people he met along the way—often simply because he cared about them. There are pieces of Vern's woodwork scattered all across the country, quietly carrying a little piece of him into homes and lives everywhere.

And then there is the Miller rose.

Vern carried that rose with him across the country, sharing it with others and helping it take root wherever he went. Like Vern himself, it continues to grow—a living reminder that some things never truly leave us. They simply continue in the places and people where they were planted.

Another passion that became an important part of Vern's legacy was family history. Early in his adult life, he developed a deep interest in genealogy and devoted countless hours to researching the families who came before him. His dedication was extraordinary. He didn't simply collect names and dates—he preserved a history.

Vern literally wrote the book on the Mynatt and Miller family genealogy, creating a record that will allow generations to come to know where they came from and the people who came before them. His work will continue long after he is gone, ensuring that the stories of his family are not forgotten.

Vern was preceded in death by his beloved wife, Ginger, and three of his children, Steve, Ray, and Marie.

He is survived by his children, Donna Mynatt-Lisby and her husband, Pete; Paul Mynatt and his wife, Tammy; Naydeen Mynatt-Kline and her husband, Keith; Kristin Calderwood-McMeen and her husband, Paul; Scott Calderwood and his wife, Kim, who lovingly cared for Vern during his final days and John Calderwood.

He leaves behind more grandchildren and great-grandchildren than anyone could possibly count, each one holding a special place in his heart. Vern loved every one of them, and his influence will live on through each generation that follows.

Vern was a loving husband, a dedicated father, a loyal friend, an amazing grandfather, a gifted craftsman, a mechanic, a storyteller, a historian, and a man who could build almost anything with his own two hands.

But perhaps his greatest creation was the life he built around his family.

He came from a farm, learned to make something from almost nothing, traveled the world, built things that will outlast him, preserved the history of those who came before him, and left pieces of himself scattered across the country—in wood, in cars, in family stories, in genealogy books, in a rose that continues to grow, and most importantly, in the hearts of the people who loved him.

Vern's hands may no longer be here to build, repair, create, or share, but what those hands made—and what his heart gave—will remain.

He will be loved for generations, remembered in countless stories, and missed more than words could ever express.

Rest peacefully, Dad. Your work here is finished, but your legacy is still growing.

Memorial information to be announced at a later date.