In his vibrant journey through life, Tom found his heart in the mountains of Nevada, where he spent the majority of his years. A man of diverse passions and talents, he delved into the depths as a miner, explored subterranean wonders as a spelunker, painted landscapes with words as a poet, embraced the cowboy spirit and strummed the strings of his guitar, filling the air with melodies.

Tom is survived by the love of his life, Beverly, with whom he shared 41 years of companionship and adventure. Their union was blessed with a daughter, Nicole (Aaron) Thatcher. Tom’s legacy lives on through three cherished grandchildren and three step-grandchildren. Additionally, his sister, Sylvia Dickenson, mourns the loss of her beloved brother.

At this time, the family has chosen not to hold formal services. They invite friends and loved ones to remember Tom in their own way, perhaps by taking a quiet stroll in the mountains he so adored or by sharing stories that capture the essence of this remarkable man.

The family has chosen to share one of Tom’s poems:

Closer Down to Earth

It’s kinda sad how city folks Won’t ever know a thing ‘Bout the twinkle in a little girl’s eye That a brand new horse can bring. Or a big red bow on a saddlehorn When she wakes up Christmas day, Or a club house that you crawl inside Made from bales of hay. Or bottle feedin’ leppy calves And watching’ while they grow, Then cryin’ rain size teardrops At the 4-H auction show. There ain’t no M.T.V. out here And I know that might seem cruel, But our little girl she likes to read And she’s doin’ good in school. So you can have that city life For all you think it’s worth, And we’ll just keep on gettin’ by A little closer down to earth.