In Memoriam of Jim Mudd

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James “Jim” Malburn Mudd, the self-proclaimed ‘Manzanita Man of the Century’, was born February 28th, 1941 to Jane Crossley and Malburn Mudd in Vancouver, Washington. Growing up as an only child, he was given the life skills that shaped his values and contributed towards his vibrant storytelling and love of music.

Jim was a “Beaver Believer”, a devoted fraternity brother of Beta Theta Pi, and a sports enthusiast. During his college years, he met the love of his life, Lynn Newberg, who was his ‘girlfriend’ for the past 53 years.

Jim adored his three children, Bradley Mudd, Holly Mudd Ferber, and Michael Mudd, as well as his five grandchildren, Abigail Mudd, Max Ferber, Carly Ferber, Charlotte Mudd, and Samantha Mudd. His life was devoted to his family, community, music, friends, and faith. As Jim often said, “Life doesn’t get any better than this.”

Jim spent over 30 years with Bridgestone/Firestone, where he traveled a great deal, including trips to Chicago, which is where his love affair with Chicago style hotdogs began. He was able to combine his love of cooking, zest for conversing, and passion for live music at his local hot dog cart, Manzanita Mudd Dog. He lived by the motto, “Never Trust a Skinny Chef”.

As a Master Mason, Jim went on to become a Shriner. His passion has always been to make people happy and improve children’s lives. He co-founded the Mudd Nick Foundation, which provides children in the North Tillamook County with life-changing enrichment and educational opportunities. Jim was the proud recipient of the Governor’s Volunteer Award for Lifetime Achievement as well as the Citizen of the Year Award in Manzanita, OR.

Jim Mudd passed away in the presence of his loving wife and children in Phoenix, Arizona on October 1, 2018.

Those close to Jim, shared some of their best memories of him at his memorial ceremony in the below:


Thank you all for being here today. I’d like to let everyone know that this is a celebration of an incredible man; a man who lived an amazing life, and just like my father wanted, we’re going to laugh, party, and tell stories. As you can see on the screen behind me, my family decided to arrive in style, that is, Chicago style. We couldn’t arrive any other way. 

There’s no one who was more ready for his own funeral than my father. He talked about what he wanted his service to look like, with several different bucket list items that were hard to cross off. First, he wanted wailers. Where do we find wailers in Nehalem?! Secondly, he wanted live music. Turns out, Tony Bennett was booked this weekend – thank goodness. Lastly, he requested a cruise ship. Short of a lottery win, it wasn’t going to happen. But, we were able to gather his friends and family for the party of the year, or should I say the party of the century?

My name is Brad Mudd, and I was Jim Mudd’s favorite child. Not kind of, I was. All of you know my father from different stages of his life, but, I’d like to start at ground zero. It’s really quite a story. His parents, Jane and Mal Mudd, we’re amazing people in their own right. He grew up as an only child, I’m sure most of you could tell. His parents gave him an abundance of support, love, and encouragement – have you ever met a man as confident as Jim Mudd? 

To give you a glimpse of his upbringing, we should start at Christmas. He was the only boy in the history of man who was able to open his Christmas presents a week early to verify they passed muster. If they didn’t, my grandmother would take them back and get new presents, my grandfather being none the wiser. It got so bad, that on Mother’s Day, my father always got large boxes from Nordstrom from HIS mother to celebrate the day. Who does that? 

I have always considered my dad to be one of the luckiest guys I have known. The older I have gotten, I have determined the luck started when he met the love of his life, Lynn Newberg. As a mother, wife, and friend, she was able to handle everything he threw at her, and was able to organize his life to give him the freedom to be himself. Together, they were able to accomplish amazing things. 

My father had a strong moral compass. He always would tell me when I was growing up, “That’s not how Mudds do things.” It was tough as a youth understanding the Mudd way. Was there a book? Apparently, there is. My dad ended up writing a book 30 years after I needed it. I feel like he gave us an incredible blueprint on how families should be. The number one thing he gave me and my siblings was confidence. We always knew we would be okay if we failed. We never had to worry about tough times, since we knew our family would make everything okay. He always made us feel things were a joint effort rather than being on my own. 

Our family has been overwhelmed and grateful for the support of this community. This is a magical area, and we wouldn’t see this type of compassion in any other place. The Mudd family cannot thank you enough for your support in such a difficult time for our family. We are very blessed to have been associated with such a fantastic man.

My dad and I had a running joke…  Ever since high school, he used to say to me….  “If I cashed out” on a Friday or Saturday night, it would be a MAJOR problem for you!  I’m not really sure you’d show up for the funeral.

We were just talking the day before he died.  I said to him, “please don’t cash out,” I’ve got a lot going on and I would have to delay the funeral until May.  We laughed as usual.  I certainly didn’t think that was the last time I would like to him, but I’m so thankful I did.  My dad was in his element – hanging with my brothers and his pals getting ready to see his Beavers play the Sun Devils.


I always asked my dad if I was his favorite.  Of course, I’d ask him in front of my brothers.  He would nod his head yes and say, “What do you think?”

Every Saturday morning my dad sat at the kitchen table writing a list of chores for Brad, Mike and myself.  I HATED chores and always complained.  My brothers never really did.  My dad’s list would go as follows:

Brad:  Mow the Lawn

Mike:  Take out the Garbage

Holly:  GET TAN

Brad:  Pick Weeds

Mike:  Edge the Yard

Holly:  HAVE FUN

Brad:  Clean the Rocks

Mike:  Help him.  Who the heck cleans rocks?

Holly:  Look Good

My brothers would go crazy.  My dad loved to mess with them.  I would say – “I told you…  I’m the favorite.”


My dad was definitely the “leader” or “head of our household.”  He really was born to be a parent.  He would always say, “We’re Mudds!”   We do the right thing.  If you say you’re going to be there, show up.  When you commit to something, follow through.  Do what you say you’re going to do.  He didn’t tell us how to act.  He taught us by example.  He “walked the walk.”

Growing up, when people would come over to the house, we would have to turn the TV off, and get up and great our guests.  It was so annoying. We would have to be interested and interesting, shake hands, look people in the eye.  CARE!  He treated everyone like they were his best friends, and you know what?  They were.    He asked questions.  so many questions.  He was interested.  He used to say – the most boring word in the dictionary is I.

I think anyone who really knew my dad, knows he was a “teacher” at heart.  Even though he had an amazing career in sales, I believe his true passion was teaching.  He was an avid reader, sports enthusiast, music lover.  He was well rounded.  

My mom and dad had coffee together every morning where the daily “lessons” would begin.  He would update my mom on current events, history, sports, you name it.  He was keeping her informed.  

Everyday growing up, my dad would tell me – “you’re special, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re a superstar.  You can do ANYTHING you set out to do.”  There hasn’t been a day in my life that his words don’t ring in my head!  How lucky to have a dad who thinks you’re so great.  I thought I was the only one he would say that to, BUT SURPRISE, he said it to everyone and he meant it.  

Not only was my dad born to be a parent but was also born to be a grandparent.  He loved his five grandkids.  They were his life.  Again, he was always teaching. He taught them how to work.  They all worked the hotdog stand in the summer.  My dad showed them how to greet customers, smile, be kind and take their money.  The one thing that my dad gave our children, was “his time.”  He was always present.  There was nothing more important.  

He treated everyone with such kindness and love but there were maybe a few exceptions.  My dad was not a fan of being called JIMBO.  He didn’t like people walking up to the hotdog stand that were “just looking.”  He’d say, “either come in and get a dog or get out of here.”  He didn’t like people who were “splitters” – people who would split their hotdogs.  He’d say, “you really can’t eat the whole thing?”  Can’t you just see his face?   There wasn’t a lot of food that my dad didn’t like, but pizza was one of them.  I still am still baffled at that one.  Anyone who knew my dad knew he hated the DUCKS!  So, if you ever said to him, “Hey Jimbo, want to go to a Ducks game and split a hot dog?”  I’m pretty sure you’d get…  “Are you kidding me?”

He had a love of music.  He played the ukulele, banjo, and guitar and sang like a song bird.  He spent hours in his later years perfecting songs on the guitar.  Whenever you’d walk by the living room, he’d summon you to listen to him.  He would work on a song for months…  it would be perfect.  My dad loved it when I had my girlfriends around.  He would sing to them, looking them straight in the eyes.  I’m sure they were feeling a sweet uncomfortableness.  It’s when they fell in love with him.  That’s why so many of my pals are here today.  He made everyone feel special.

I play the piano and my dad was so proud of me.  When I was eight, my dad would have his pals over late.  So many times, he’d come into my room and ask if I would play the piano for his friends.  I always did.  We also had a PONG game, the kind you would find in taverns in the late 70s.  I was really good at it.  If he wasn’t waking me up to play the piano, he would be waking me up to play his intoxicated friends in PONG.  There would be BIG BETTING going on.

My mom was his life.  It sounds corny, but SHE was the wind beneath his wings.  It was a true partnership.  We were so lucky we were to grow up with these role models.  He would say on a daily basis – “Isn’t your mother beautiful?”  HE ADORED HER!  He also always said to her – “You’re being mean, Lynn, you’re going to feel really bad if I cash out!”  I think he said that every day.  Poor Lynn – so much pressure to be nice.  Man were you nice Mom.

There aren’t any words to describe the loss my family feels.  He was so proud of our family, but oh wow, were we proud of him.  He’s holding “court” in heaven right now playing his guitar, singing with the angels.  In his element.

One of my dad’s favorite sayings, which he said multiple times a day, was, “It doesn’t get any better.”  That’s what it was like growing up with Jim Mudd as my father.

I mentioned earlier about the last conversation i had with my dad that cashing out on Friday or Saturday night was a problem.   So Dad, thank you for cashing out on a Monday!  I love you.

Hello everyone, my name is Michael Mudd, Jim’s favorite child.  You can ask around, it’s true.

My dad was many things to many people.  He was a teacher, friend, and a role model.  When I was young my father told me, he was not my friend.  This hurt, and he told me I would understand one day.  He told me when I graduate college, I’ll be his best friend.  Turns out he was right.

I’m sure most of you know that James Mudd wrote a book, it was called Lessons.  It was essentially a group of stories of the lessons his dad taught him.  Today I’d like to share a few lessons my father taught me.

  • Social

My father did things a little different than most.  One day he invited a friend of his over, someone who was a stranger to me at the age of 8.  The doorbell rang – he stopped me and said when you open this door you introduce yourself, look him in the eye, shake his hand and invite him in.  Once your new friend is inside our house, you ask him what kind of drink he would like.  I was 8.

You see something happened when I turned 8 years old.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I asked my mom for something and she said, “you need to ask your father.”  What?  Ask your father.  You see the person responsible for my education changed in one short day.

  • Hard Work

We didn’t sleep in on Saturdays. He said, “boys we have a chore to do.  Today we’re going to wash rocks.”  What?  Brad and I asked!   As we stood outside looking at thousands of stones that were all around our house.  “What about Holly?”  “Holly will be sun tanning today,” he said.  What!  “You see boys, you never ask someone to do something unless you are sure that they’ll do it.  I’m positive I cannot make Holly do this task.”  Brad and I were positive that this will not go unnoticed.  “You’re going to scrub each one of these rocks, once clean put it in the clean pile.”  “Why can’t we just hose them off like everyone else” I remember asking.  “Because that’s not the way Mudds do it,” Dad replied.

It. Took. All. Day.

You see James Mudd was from a military family.  He was breaking us down, only to reward us with, “Good job, boys” which my brother and I cherished.  Holly also received a “good job, Boo” which I don’t quite think she quite deserved.

  • Honesty

“Always tell the truth,” he told me.  “If you tell the truth, no punishment will come to you from us.  Your integrity is more important than any of your mistakes.”  I made plenty of mistakes and never lied about one.  I can’t remember receiving any punishment.  Truth was like magic.

Before my dad died, I was telling a few of his friends this story. What a great way for him to go.  Listening to a story about himself, eating fried chicken and waffles, drinking, with friends and his two sons.  

He was in a class by himself.  It is not often someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer.  James was both.


I’m very honored to be able to stand up for Jim today, a true giant of a man.  And, in typical Steve’s bullet point fashion, it’s my pleasure to share some thoughts. 

First, some observations on Jim:

  • Perhaps the biggest impression Jim left with me is that he was the ultimate Giver, in every way.  As an example, interaction with Jim was always about YOU, and unless you were someone who wanted a “splitter” or a turkey dog.  He was always positive and curious about YOU.  What’s new with YOU.  How is YOUR team doing?  YOU are so smart.  YOU are beautiful.  Heck, he even said I was smart and beautiful.  
  • Jim’s ultimate giving, however, was certainly though the Foundation he, Lynn, and Doug created and grew.  I started by saying Jim was a GIANT, and the size of the crowd here today is a demonstration of the impact his giving had.  If I had to describe a “rich” person, it would be someone who had such an impact on people they had a crowd like this one to show up and show support and love at the end.
  • As we all know, when it was time for him to talk, he was happy to do so.  He absolutely loved to tell stories, sometimes even more than once.  And he always told them with passion, love, and humor.  Being with Jim was always about having a good time.

I also wanted to share a few words about what Jim meant in my life:

  • He was a father figure who added different things to my life than the things my father taught me, filling in some areas that had been a void.  Jim was always interested and engaged in my career, what deals I was working on, if and how much the company valued my work, and he provided guidance on what to do in certain situations, too.  When big things happened, or at year-end review and bonus time, Jim was the person I looked forward to talking with most.  He also fully filled a sports void, and like many fans, even though our teams were rarely competing for championships, we kept supporting them and hoping anyway.
  • The lessons he taught my kids were a big boost to their characters.  Jim helped teach them the importance of hard work.  More importantly, they learned that just showing up isn’t enough.  They learned the importance of having pride in your work and doing a great job.  Pleasing others, including your employers.
  • He was clear proof that happiness in life results from Giving a lot more than Taking.
  • And, I learned whatever you do, never, ever split a hot dog!

I’ll close with two last comments.

  • If you were one of the people Jim helped along the way like I was, let’s try to pay it forward!
  • And, I’ll end with the last words I said to Jim, “I love you.”


First and foremost, I want to start this speech by saying that I was Grandpa’s favorite grandchild. I mean, clearly since my dad was the favorite kid, I must be the favorite grandkid. I think if there’s one thing I want to say today, it’s that my grandpa is a life-long teacher. Apparently, my aunt and uncle had the same idea. But, he was an important role model to me as well. While he taught me plenty of valuable information during my life, he’s also continued to teach me lessons after his death. Just now, I realize what kind of impact one individual can have on the world. I mean, I never understood that one person can impact so many lives in such a short time. 

One of the first lessons my grandpa taught me was to curse. I know that sounds strange, but that’s the way we roll. I was probably six years old at a party we were having at our house. My grandpa asked me, “Abby, do you ever curse?” Of course not. In fact, I thought I was going to get in trouble with my parents when I thought of a bad word. He looked at me and said “Sometimes, you just have to let it out.” My parents were a little curious why I started saying shit, but my grandpa taught me my first swear word. I mean, my dad wasn’t so happy with my grandpa after I started saying a few more swear words. As trivial as it sounded, he taught me to express myself. Instead of holding in feelings, I should tell people how I feel. Grandpa always expressed himself and communicated how he felt. He was larger than life.

Another life lesson he taught me was having a work ethic. As we all know, my grandpa was a hard worker. He couldn’t even enjoy retirement, so he started a hot dog stand. He always told me “The early bird gets the worm,” which I always found some retort against. But what he really wanted to teach everyone is that you have to work for what you want and to never settle, as there is always something more to chase. My grandpa was always ambitious in life, and he tried to teach me that, as much as I argued with him. I remember one time I was spending a few weeks with my grandparents and I decided to sweep the kitchen to help around the house. I was sweeping, and my grandpa took one look and said “Stop. You’re doing it all wrong.” While I was stubborn and didn’t listen, my grandpa was really teaching me that doing things right is more important that just getting things done. 

My grandpa also taught me how to enjoy my passions properly. We all know Jim was an avid chef, and every thanksgiving, he would spend hours and hours preparing this meal for the family. He’d wake up at 3am to properly prepare the turkey, and of course, take a break to teach grandma a few life lessons. He’d then start working on the gravy. Slowly but surely, he created the foundations for the gravy. He’d pull me into the kitchen so I could help him prepare the gravy. Since I watched him make gravy for so many years, I feel like I SHOULD be able to make his version, but, that’s not the life lesson he taught me. He is an example of why hard work and dedication to things you love pays off in the end. Every year, that gravy was incredible, and he’d talk about how much work went into it. It was truly one of his favorite things in life. 

There is nothing my grandpa cherished more than sitting around the fire with the family playing some great music. He’d always pull everyone into the living room and laugh, tell stories, and play songs. He’s been able to teach me the value of family. There is nothing more important than being with the people you love, and our family has been blessed by the head of the family, Jim Mudd.

The most important lesson I learned from my grandpa, which I hope you all learned from him, is to be active in every moment. Don’t be passive through all your experiences. He always said, “life can’t get any better than this,” and I think he is right. He lived with so much zest for life and accomplished so much over the years. I am so lucky to have had the best grandpa I could ever ask for. He is one of my role models, and with all those lessons he has taught me, I hope we all continue to follow in his footsteps. 

Hello everyone, first, just to start off, for those of you who do not know me, I am the grandson, Holly’s kid, Max, and I can’t express how happy I am to be here with all the people who I love the most. It’s been a rough month and getting to see all of you really is what I need. 

I remember the day that I got the call from my mom that Grandpa had passed, it was hard, it sucked. The whole day was horrible. That night I was sitting in bed and got a Facetime call from my mom. At first, I was a little confused because it seemed like a little weird time for a Facetime, but when I answered I saw something amazing. It was my Grandmother, Mom, Mike and Brad all sitting down for dinner having a beer, laughing and telling stories. They weren’t mourning, they were celebrating. They were acting exactly like how Grandpa would have wanted. I know this because about six months ago I was lucky enough to be able to get on the phone and have a conversation about his thoughts on death. 

At that time, I was in a class called Morality and Mortality, a class about death, and the first project was to interview a family member on their beliefs about death and what they wanted their end to be. The immediate and obvious choice was my grandfather. The guy who had the most charisma I’ve ever seen, the person who I have learned more about life from than anyone else besides my parents. 

I am going to read the little bit from the paper that I really believe encapsulates him the best. 

I explained him like this: Grandpa Jim, a 77-year old large man who lives in a small town on the Oregon coast. To fully understand the conversation that we had, I have to first explain that this man is truly larger than life, he is the unofficial mayor of his small town, he runs a hot dog stand out of his driveway in the summers, and he crabs to have fun after work. Overall, Jim is a happy man who is undeniably devoted to his family. 

During the interview I learned so much about his views on the topic that so many are so afraid to discuss. I learned about his faith, his love for his family, friends, and charity, but two parts of the interview really stuck with me. The first one came when I asked him whether or not he feared death, his immediate response, was “Fu** no Max, the only part of death that I fear is being forced to be away from the grandkids and Lynn. I have lived a long and good life and I believe in Christ and I know I will be forgiven for my sins, and when it is my time to go, I will be ready, and I hope that you are there to see me move on.” 

The second part of the essay and interview that I really loved was when I got to ask him how he wanted his funeral to be. He told me that “there is going to be a big boat with a lot of large women singing my favorite songs and after the service there will be as much booze as anyone could ever want and for there to be a large dancefloor for people to celebrate who I was, not to mourn the fact that I am gone.” 

But honestly, he was so much more than a guy who just tried to make everyone happy too, he was a teacher. His impact on me is obvious now and it will stick with me for the rest of my life. Who else but him would have instilled in my mind how there really was “nothing funny about money,” or how if I ever wanted to buy anything, I have to ask myself three things, “do I want it, do I need it, and do I have the cash to pay for it.” But on a more serious side my grandpa showed me how to really listen to people, how to empathize even when people had vastly different views. He was someone that cared about person-to-person relations. I remember as a kid I would always dread being trapped in the living room listening to his guitar for hours. But once I grew up a little bit, I realized that he did love the attention, but he also loved having the family all in one place. Honestly, I am just so lucky to have someone that great in my life for as long as I had him.

My conversation with him gave me a better understanding of him. Simply put, he was an old fat man who did not fear death. In life he strived to make as many people as happy as possible, and after death he only wants to do the same. And I think that Facetime that I had with my mom, and the fact that everyone is here right now, really shows that he ended up getting what he wanted. He left his mark. 

My Grandpa always told me how special I was. How smart, kind, loving, and beautiful I was. The first thing my Grandpa would say to me every time I saw him was “God! You are good lookin’.” I would laugh and tell him how good lookin’ he was – but he knew it. He would always return with a “Well you know you got the looks from me, right?” No Grandpa, I didn’t know that.

The most special thing to me about my Grandpa was how proud he was of me. In times when I was not proud of myself, my Grandpa was always there to make sure I knew I should be. When I was upset that I got a “B” instead of an “A,” my Grandpa would be in awe and tell me he never could have gotten higher than a “C.” When I didn’t make varsity tennis my Junior year, my Grandpa told me it was because they needed someone to win on JV. When I lost an election at school, my Grandpa told me they always vote for the uglier kid because they feel bad. My Grandpa was so proud, and went out of the way to make sure I knew it.

The advice my Grandpa gave me was better than nothing else. 

  • I remember introducing him to my ex-boyfriend. My grandpa spoke to the guy for maybe two minutes total and proceeded to tell me he wasn’t good enough for me. Grandpa, you were right.
  • Grandpa always taught me to treat others with the greatest of my ability, and love with everything I have. Grandpa, you were right.
  • When I would rant to my Grandpa about my stress regarding college, he would tell me it doesn’t matter where I go, because wherever that may be, I will succeed. Grandpa, I hope you are right.

I believe my Grandpa had two sides to him:  there was the “hotdog man side”- the side that made everyone laugh, smile, and feel good; and there was the “it’s all about me side”- the side that made you sit on the couch for hours and listen to him tell you the same stories you have heard 20 times before. My brother and I would always complain, and say “Grandpa, we know, we know you used to have your mom return the Christmas gifts and get exactly what you want.” He would say “No, no, just listen.” I wish I could sit and just listen to those same stories one last time.

There was one saying my Grandpa recited so often it is embedded into my brain- “There’s nothing funny about money.” Working at the hotdog stand every summer consisted of me eating all the chips, taking 20-minute breaks whenever I felt like it, and spending all my tip money at the candy store up the street. I remember after the work day, we would sit at the kitchen table and my Grandpa would hand my brother and I both a $50 bill. I would look at him and thank him, then make fun of my brother because he worked way harder than I did. My Grandpa would dismiss us but call Max into his room. I remember sitting on the couch admiring my $50 bill and my brother would walk in with an extra $20. He would say “Ha ha, Grandpa gave me more.” Grandpa, you’re right, that wasn’t too funny.

This summer I had the opportunity to visit my grandparents for a day with my best friends Andrew and Kate. We sat on the couch and talked, laughed, and listened to him sing. God, I am grateful for that day. 

Grandpa. I miss your voice, your laugh, your positive presence. I miss listening to you tell me how beautiful Grandma is. I miss hearing you make that weird sound in the morning to tell Grandma you want your coffee. I miss watching you play the guitar and hearing you sing. I miss seeing you make hot dogs. I miss your disgusting hamburgers. I miss helping you figure out the TV. I miss seeing your face light up on Christmas. I miss your hugs. I miss hearing you laugh on the phone with my mom. But, most of all Grandpa, I miss you. And I will work each and every day to have an impact on this earth as great as you did. I love you, Grandpa.


I am Doug Nicholson and I knew Jim Mudd for over 32 years (1987)

Jim Loved Life , Loved Family, and Loved People. Jim was multi talented. Not a lot of people knew:
He Played the Ukulele, Guitar, and sang. He Lived 2 years as a child in Japan at ages 11 & 12 In Japan in 1959 at the age of 12, his Dad took him to a Baseball game with the Japanese and American Allstars-where He had a pass to get around the dugout where he saw Mickey Mantle who said to Jim : “Hi Kid” and then pat him on his back.

He was a Book Author- as he wrote about his DAD, The book was titled “LESSONS” and how his DAD was a great teacher of Life, as he only had a 6th grade education, but he was people smart. His Father taught that you never

To Fess UP when you make MISTAKES. Your Word is your Bond.

His Father Taught Manners: Like when a lady comes into the room you stand, and when they leave the room you stand.
How you greet people when you come into the Mudd house Make them feel like they are the center of your attention Look them in the eyes when you shake their hand You introduce everyone in the room
Turn off the TV, put down your cell phone Offer them a drink and some snacks

Make them feel welcome and make sure they will never forget that visiting the Mudds was something special.

Jim was such a positive person, an Upper to talk to and see. Favorite line of Jim’s was IT DOESN’T GET ANY BETTER THAN THIS PAL! Whenever you saw him he would say: HI KID HOW YOU DOING If you were a female he would say HI BABY DOLL HOW ARE YOU DOING, Come on in and lets all have a drink and talk If he liked someone he would say- THERE ARE NO FLIES ON THEM!

The Mudd house at the Beach was always OPEN.Jim and Lynn had more house guests than some Hotels and They served more meals than some restaurants.

Yes, Jim lived every day to the fullest and gave a lot back. With Jim, it was always about others, more than himself Last yr at N Salem HS Jim talked about the 4 chapters in his Life:

Chapter 1:
Life was simple, go to HS and College, get married, but then YOU HAVE NO MONEY.

Chapter 2:
Still have no Money, but get a Bonus- takes the bonus money and buys a T Bird- he comes back from a 2 week road trip and the car is gone—Lynn sold it to pay 2 college tuitions and Mike’s dental bill!

Chapter 3:
Kids are out of school out on their own and now you start making and keeping a little money.

Chapter 4:
THE most Important of all
When we all start to give back to people, its not about
Giving a lot of money- it’s about a passion of giving
time to a Cause. Its When you surround yourself with other people with the same passion, and with that passion, anything, anything is possible!

Jim’s passion was the Mudd Nick Foundation which does:
Changing Children’s Lives Today and Tomorrow and to
Broaden their Horizons to pursue their Dreams

Jim and I started the Mudd Nick Golf Tournament: 31 years ago, (1988) 1 year after we met on the Course. Steve Erickson saw 2 people all dressed in Orange and Black with OSU hats on, introduced us To each other and put us out a 2 some. Without Steve introducing us, the Mudd Nick Foundation Would not exist today!

We picked the 3rd Saturday in September because It was the down time for Manzanita (Labor Day was over) We thought we could help The Town,Rental companies, and other merchants. After some 7 years later, Lynn came up with the Idea of raising money for the children of the area Our first year (1996) we raised $2,400 In 2009 we raised $75,000
In 2012 we raised $110,000. Throughout the past 23 years the Foundation has Raised over $1,500,000 for children programs in North Tillamook County.

Today the Foundation is financially Strong, and will continue to exist for years to come honoring Jim’s passion and spirit We can always use more volunteers, just go to the web Site and volunteer for a committee or to just help us!

Jim and Lynn have been recognized for their passion and giving back:
In 2011 they were Citizens of the Year in Manzanita
In 2015 they were awarded the Governor’s Regional Volunteer for Lifetime Achievement in Oregon
In 2017 At North Salem High School, Jim was honored with a

DISTINGUISHED LIFETIME AWARD, and put into the schools Hall of Fame

Jim and Lynn have been selling Mudd Dogs inside their driveway for some 15 years—JIM Promoting the Foundation
and receiving people’s Checks of $25, $100, $500, $1000 all going to the Foundation.

Whenever I would speak to Jim on the phone, or see him in person, he would always end the conversation by saying “I LOVE YOU PAL”

Jim said that “GOD HAS BEEN GOOD TO HIM”
Jim Had FAITH: and in his Book —
He said “Faith brought a blanket of CALM to my LIFE”

“I am only on this earth for a short, short time”
“My home is in Heaven”

Jim was known to many as Mr. MUDD DOG so much, that I think when he passed thru the gates of Heaven he offered St Peter a MUDD – DOG; Then He sat down with Jesus and said “SON, have you ever tried a MUDD DOG” ???


In 2013, Sheri Atteridge recruited me to serve on the board of the Mudd Nick Foundation.  I first met Jim Mudd at the Friday dinner of the annual fundraising event weekend.  As I sat listening to Jim explain the Foundation’s mission and his hopes for the future, the character of the man was apparent.  I sensed that his capacity to care was genuine and endless.  It felt good to be around him.  His soft sell worked on me and I came away excited about joining an organization that did so many positive things for the children of North Tillamook County.  I admit that I wanted some of Jim’s fairy dust sprinkled on me.

Over the years I discovered that Jim was one of the most enthusiastic and optimistic people I ever knew.  I loved receiving his phone calls and meeting him in person, as his wide smile and bear hug felt so good.  When he conversed with a person, he made the person feel he or she was the most important human alive at that moment.  It was genuine; never an act.  Jim valued people and made sure they felt it.

Jim was passionate about the children we serve.  He was passionate about life in general – always upbeat and outgoing.  Being engaged with people, especially children, was like food and air and water to Jim.  It defined his life.

I learned so much from Jim both as a leader and a person.  He freely complimented a job well done and displayed gratitude easily.  Being a team player, he could be diplomatic and compromise when needed, but also stuck to his principles and wouldn’t back down if he was convinced his idea would benefit the Foundation.  He was inspirational and charismatic.  And his zest for life was infectious.  

Jim’s death reminded me how fragile, tenuous and precious life is and how important it is to live it fully, as he did each day.  He demonstrated why service to others is so important.  The community’s outpouring of grief is evident of how widely his touch extended.  

Some of you may be wondering about the future of the Mudd Nick Foundation.  Rest assured, that though the Foundation will never be the same without its heart and soul, Jim left a legacy and an organization that is on solid ground. The needs of the children in our community have not changed just because Jim’s physical presence is gone. Our mission will continue to be fulfilled in honor of this great man.  That is my personal mission and commitment.

I am grateful that Jim was a part of my life.  I wish I could have had him longer.  I mourn him.  We all mourn him.  He is worthy of our sorrow.

Lynn, Brad, Holly, Mike – I wish I could be with you today as you celebrate Jim’s wonderful life, but I’m traveling.  But, know I’m with you in spirit and toasting Jim’s life with a good glass of wine, hopefully as good as a Stoller Pinot Noir.  

Jim had a greeting I always loved – HEY JOHNNIE, HOW’S IT GOING KID?  LYNN, JOHNNIE’S HERE!  And then came the big hug.  Nobody, I mean nobody made you feel more welcome than Jim.  And let me be clear about one thing, only Jim and my Mom got away with calling me Johnnie!  I LOVED THAT MAN, and so did everyone who knew him.

Few people had more of an impact on people than Jim Mudd. You know he’s already making deals in heaven!

We lost a GREAT individual who definitely left his mark on North Tillamook County and on all of us who were fortunate enough to know him.  

I will personally miss his warm and gracious personality. Jim was passionate about everything he did, and he personalized it to make you feel the same passion.  He would occasionally send me a personal note or call me congratulating me on one thing or another.  It was the only recognition I needed to put in the hours supporting his and Doug’s wonderful Foundation.

He always conveyed the right motivational message that spired you to open your wallets for a good cause.  I always enjoyed watching Kelly Laviolette and Jim fleece money from people at the Crab Derby!  When I heard that Kelly and Jim were going to people to seek donations for our 2018 Golf and Charity Event, I had empathy for those who were on their hit list.  They would consider themselves lucky if they still had a loose changeleft in their pocket after they left!  

Jim loved the stage whether is was serving hot dogs, introducing the golf groups, or running the live auction.  He was both charming and passionate about all he did.

He always downplayed his success at Firestone.  Being humble was his trademark.   You knew he could sell tires and call out those who were slacking in their efforts to make their annual quotas.  

Jim was proud of Brad, Holly, and Mike and his grandchildren.  I can only imagine the good times shared when they descended at the Mudd house on Laneda Ave.  Of course, Mother, was the gleam in his eyes.  Lynn got blamed for being a spend thrift and keeping him in check, but you knew he held her in deep love and respect.  Using his words, “She was the REAL DEAL!”

I will miss his phone calls giving me more credit than I warranted or talking about the latest Beavs game.  Jim was also the “REAL DEAL,” and the many wonderful times I enjoyed with Jim will be forever in my memory.  No one could ask for a better friend.  

He was a true champion in creating his legacy for the Children of North Tillamook County. We will all work harder and give more to keep his legacy, The Mudd Nick Foundation, strong and ongoing in serving the children who were a meaningful part of his life.

Everyone who was lucky enough to be with this wonderful man, will miss him dearly.

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