Joe Michael Anderson
Share
Joe Michael Anderson, aged 67, died on October 20, 2023, at his home in Lawrence, Kansas, from esophageal cancer. Given his wild and reckless youth, he was pleasantly surprised that he lived so long.
Joe was born on April 20, 1956, in Emporia, Kansas. He was the youngest of Frances and Paul Anderson’s three children and their only boy. Considerably younger than his two sisters, Sondra and Joan, he frequently observed that he had been raised by three mothers. Three mothers were probably necessary – he was walking at the age of nine months, and, as a toddler, liked to play with knives. His first home was in Osage City, Kansas, where his father owned and operated Anderson Dry Goods. Osage City is also the town where precocious four-year-old Joe wandered away from home and got himself locked inside the Lutheran Church. He was found a few hours later, asleep on a pew, with gum in his hair. A couple of short years later he learned how electricity works – with the aid of a safety pin and a wall socket.
When Joe was nine years old his family moved to a farm outside of Osage City, where Joe first pondered one of life’s great mysteries: Why exactly must cows be milked at the crack of dawn? Joe enjoyed outdoor life, fishing, camping and pretending to hunt, with his father’s dogs. He had a lifelong love of shooting guns, but he didn’t feel the need to kill anything with them.
Joe always liked taking things apart to see how they worked, then putting them back together. Eventually he used this talent working on motorcycles. When he made his first trip to Sturgis, South Dakota, it was on a Harley-Davidson Super Glide.
Much to the relief of the faculty of Osage City High School, Joe graduated a semester early, and, in 1974, he enrolled at the University of Kansas. As he liked to ponder life’s big questions, he majored in philosophy, and, because he was a philosopher, he did not find it necessary to graduate. He quit a semester short of his degree.
Beginning in his years at KU, Joe was frequently mistaken for his cousin Stan McCool. He gently corrected this error by pointing out that he was the good looking one.
Joe worked a variety of jobs – hay bale tosser, house painter, itinerant greenhouse builder, bartender, bouncer and pop delivery man before finding his life’s work in 1984, when he went to work for Rick Miller in the Exploration Services division of the Kansas Geological Survey. He eventually held the position of drilling manager and senior research assistant. Because he was a driller, he believed that he could honestly claim that he did indeed know his a$$ from a hole in the ground, and he was proud that after almost four decades of working a drill, he still had all his appendages. Joe also assisted with seismic testing, which allowed him to shoot really big guns into the ground. Joe’s talents were best used, however, by turning Rick’s ideas for machines into reality. He was a truly happy man in his machine shop, his happiness reflected in its utter chaos. He also loved driving around western Kansas for the annual measurement of the Ogallala Aquifer.
Over his years at the Geological Survey, Joe had the opportunity to mold many young minds. Was that a good idea? Time will tell. Many of the people who worked with Joe received a nickname: Slice, Buckshot, The Razor, Smokehouse, Big Daddy, The Buck and Brutus, to name a few.
In 1995, a mutual friend arranged a blind date for Joe with his future wife, Debra. He arrived to pick her up late and wet, having forgotten to roll up his window before driving into the carwash. Over dinner at Don’s Steak House they discovered much in common: they were both lapsed Lutherans, they had both worked at the Free State Opera House and they could both recite large sections of “The Cremation of Sam McGee.” They decided to give it a go and were eventually married in 2002. Debra was to learn that Joe knew many more poems, which he recited to her at the kitchen counter, after a few shots of Wellers. Joe acquired two step-children when he married, Ben and Michelle. Many happy game nights, piano recitals, baseball games and basketball games followed. Eventually four grandchildren followed as well, each of them, in Joe’s eyes, absolutely extraordinary.
Joe was a big man with a big laugh and a big heart. As is fitting a driller, he leaves a big hole in the lives of those of us who loved him.
Joe was predeceased by his parents and his sister, Sondra Pence. He is survived by his wife Debra Wilson, of the home, his daughter Michelle Wilson of Vancouver, British Columbia, his son, Ben Wilson, of Lawrence, his grandchildren, Joell, Jessiah, Zylah and Zyanah, his sister Joan Anderson of Lawrence, his niece, Cindi Long of Lawrence, her husband Dennis Long, two great nephews, Nick and Carter Long of Lawrence and his nephew Jason Bogard, and his husband, Demond Adams, of Venice Beach, California.
Many thanks to the doctors and staff of Lawrence Memorial Hospital Oncology and Visiting Nurses Hospice, as well as all of Joe’s friends and family who helped Debra care for Joe in his final days.
A celebration of Joe’s life will be held on Saturday, November 11, 2023 at the White School House in Lawrence, from 4-7 p.m.
Please visit Joe’s obituary page at the Warren-McElwain Mortuary website to share your memories of Joe.
Joe was a Jack of all trades. He made the best coconut shrimp we ever tasted.
Joe was a one-of -kind renaissance man whose love for family and friends was unsurpassed. His passing leaves an enormous hole in all our hearts and our lives. Joe and the memories of him will be loved and cherished forever. My deepest and most profound condolences to Debra and all his/their family.
Once we came to know Joe, we knew that Debbie had found her perfect match.
Joe was sure great in building custom sleds / choppers!
and the list of his gift’s would just go on and on.
Angelia would always laugh when Joe made a post on his Facebook page.
During this time of loss, we pray for Debbie, Ben, Shelly and the rest of the crew, to have peace and comfort.
Love you guys
I like to say Joe was my favorite Uncle, because well, he was my only uncle. Nevertheless Joe taught me a lot about life. How to be your own person. Stand up for the little guy, and never, and I mean never, let anyone f#ck with your family. He had a great sense of humor and was an amazing story teller. He and I were close in age and I was in awe of the person he was. I can truly say he made a difference in my life. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without Joe.
There was never a time if I needed help that Joe wasn’t there for me. Joe could be very intimidating because of his size, but he had the biggest heart. A true friend indeed. Thanks for the memories, buddy. I’ll miss my friend of 30+ years. Condolences to his family, especially to Debra . She was his rock until the very end. R.I.P. my friend until we meet again.
Angie
Debra and Family, I’m so sorry for your loss. Joe’s absence does indeed, leave a big space to fill. He was always ready with an entertaining poem or story and made you feel that whatever he was going to do, he was going to have fun. He will be missed by many, but leaves some really great and precious memories.
My god, how fortunate to have known and loved him! His is a huge loss for all.
He was a shining star that cannot be distinguished. I will look for him in the night sky!
My heartfelt condolences to Debra and family.
My sister, Kathleen Murphy and I are saddened by this passing and send prayers for the family and friends. We know he will be greatly missed!
Joe was a big man in SO many ways. We all learned from him and are better for having known him. Hugs to all.
Such a huge loss…great guy who always remembered me with a laugh and smile. Will miss you Big Joe!
Oh Joe you’re gonna be missed big guy! I always felt you were my brother from another mother. I loved swing dancing with you and our long hair flying around. My husband Bo really thought you were a pretty cool guy and smart as hell! We will be missing you Mozeppi!
Joe was a high school classmate of my husband, “Creature” and me. I would never have passed Geometry without him! He will be missed.
Debbie, Ben and Shelly. So sorry for your loss. This is so heartbreaking. Thinking and love you all.
Debbie, Ben and Shelly. So sorry for your loss. Thinking and love you all.
I’m at a loss for words, my heart is broken, the world lost such a beautiful, brilliant, funny, kind soul, but heaven gained an angel for sure!!
I will miss your FB posts for sure!
Debbie, Shelley and Ben, sending a huge hug and love during this difficult time. Celebrate all the greatness Joe brought to our lives!! ❤️❤️❤️
This is a sad day, indeed. Joe was super smart, a brilliant writer, and a fearless defender of everyone he loved. Joe’s obituary (surely mostly written by Joe himself) is such a great example of his humor and style – I had tears and a smile at the same time. Much love to my longtime friend Debra and my deepest sympathies to all his family and friends who will miss him. Hugs.
Just a follow-up to acknowledge that Debra wrote that beautiful, touching and sweetly funny obituary. Love you, Deb.
Big Mo!!
You taught me such so much as fledgling Hydrogeologist in the years 88 through to 92.
And the humour👍 I was in stitches.
And the blues, and dancing up a storm with Raechell. I will miss you.
But above all my heart goes out to Debra.
Hey Debra. David and I were so sad to hear of Joe’s passing. I enjoyed getting to know Joe at baseball games over the years. He was tough on the outside and soft on the inside. The obituary was such a beautiful tribute to him. It brought a tear to my eye but also made me chuckle. Warm condolences to you, Ben, and Shelly.
Peace be with all that loved Joe. In the 80’s Joe shared his love of the Blues, a fabulous album collection, played base guitar, could swing dance like no other, was very generous, the life of the party, ornery, very kind and smart. He and Stan were very proud of their Swedish heritage, made Swedish white sauce fish and sausage together, and he had a fabulous Viking tattoo. Lots of good memories of MoZeppie. Sincere condolence to Debra, family, and friends. Joe was a good man.
Joe always had a smile and a good word, every time I saw him, often at one of Lawrence’s music venues, or other gathering of locals. We’ll remember him always. Best wishes and kind thoughts to Debra, the family, and especially, the grandkids.
Joe my friend, I have many memories of you when you visited Osage City and I saw you at the Eagles in Osage City. May your legend live on in many lives of friends that you acquired through your travels of life. Rest in peace buddy.
Joe loved a good party, had one in the 80ss at my house, Joe had a good idea, musical chairs. You have to have a good song and he had that too, Ted Nugent’s and Joe’s favorite ” Cat Scratch Fever “. NOT
Was deeply saddened to hear of Joe’s passing. Knowing Joe from our days at the Geological Survey and times in the field traveling back and forth i got to know Joe and always enjoyed hearing his stories. A favorite was an afternoon with Joe and the drilling crew at a Biker establishment in Great Bend Kansas after work where the locals were grilling a goat out behind the bar. Joe knowing his “boss” at the time hated undercooked meat made it a point to inform the girls at the bar to insist the boss partake a goodly potion under the understanding that it would be taken as and insult to the entire bar if refused. To say Joe had a grin on his face the entire time would be appropriate.
Joe was a true one of a kind and it was my pleasure to have known him. My condolences to his wife and family.
Lynn
I didn’t know Joe very well. After reading his beautifully written obituary, I feel like I really missed out!
I would just wave and smile at Joe when he would come to visit his sister, Joanie.
He loved and served her faithfully!
My sincere sympathy to all of his family.
Special love and prayers for Joanie.
I know Joe will be missed greatly.
Joe was the kindest and most compassionate driller and person I have ever known, and he had a delightful sense of humor.
He was very tolerant of me as an 8-month pregnant assistant professor trying to pretend I know what I was doing during the drilling of 13 shallow wells at the Konza Prairie in 1993. He was again so helpful and encouraging when, in 1997, he drilled 5 more wells, much deeper, for me also at the Konza Prairie–I was only marginally more knowledgeable then although an associate professor, but he just helped me along the process without blinking an eye or making me feel stupid (which I was, at least some of the time). I am glad the bison came to visit his drill rig at that time–he seemed awed to be so close to them–at least I could do that for him. During that drilling, on the very first well, he lost circulation. This is a big deal if you are a driller. He did everything he knew to try to regain it (swear words under his breath, too, I think), but no luck. He came back the next day and decided to just power through it, and it worked, and he didn’t get stuck and lose his drill bit and pipe. In each of the next 3 wells he lost circulation again, but powered through those will no hesitation, and all the wells were successful.
More recently, he offered to help in some way when I was laid up after a big dog knocked me down and seriously broke my leg. I asked him to drive my pickup truck, because I would not be able to drive the manual transmission for quite a while. I mentioned the odometer didn’t work and he could borrow my GPS to know how fast he was driving. He scoffed (gently), and said he could tell by which gear he was in. I knew then that there was no doubt he could drive a 5-speed manual transmission truck.
I feel grateful and honored to know, even a little, this wonderful man. I learned a lot from him, and will never forget his kindness and his big heart.
To the Family and Friends of Joe:
Even though I have never met Joe I penned this poem after reading his obit in the Lawrence Journal. I sincerely hope you don’t mind even though I made up a few lines.
“AN OBIT To Joe”
Joe Boy, Joe Boy,
Where have you gone?
Where have you gone Joe Boy?
Being of sound mind
And unscrupulous character
I decided to write an obit.
Of a man, I came to know
Just this yesterday.
Knowing it would be amiss
Not to write of his many misdeeds
I couldn’t resist.
“Don’t ask me why, But I did.
Without delay, I’m going to leave
You with a few memories of his past.
Some, I’m sure, will make you laugh.
Where have you gone Joe Boy?
Hope you’re in heaven
Smiling down on us.
The Joy you brought us
Should be chiseled in stone.
You lasted much longer
Than life should have allowed.
Surprised us all,
You were with us this long.
Took three mothers to raise Joe’s ass
For he was quite a mischievous lass
A runaway, yes
He was a mysterious mess.
Knives were his toys;
One of his many joys.
Scared his three mothers half to death,
The mighty dragons he slew.
An Edison he was not.
Safety pins and wall sockets
Were things of awe.
He put fire in many an eye,
Including his own. “YIKES!”
Stop signs and road signs
Suffered many a hole.
But no geese, ducks,
Or other fowl found his mark.
He loved the outdoors and only pretended
To hunt. He was a good shot.
After, a shot of whiskey of course.
Maybe a joint or two,
I won’t tell and neither will Joe,
Cause he ain’t here no more.
Aristotle came calling.
Philosophy and midnight coffee
Shook up his brain.
Guess he decided that since
He was a philosopher he
Didn’t need to study philosophy.
Better a week in Sturgis
Than a date with Socrates,
Or those Kaw Valley Hemp Pickers
Everyone knew of…
But wouldn’t tell of.
Met his wife on a blind date.
Showed up soaking wet
From leaving the window of his Chevy
Open as he drove it through the local car wash…
I can’t imagine what Debra thought…
I bet it was like,— Is this guy for real???
Oh, what the hell. They both liked poetry
And fell in love. They stayed that way until
His rhymes ran out.
Worked hard at working,
Tossed bales, painted houses;
Became an itinerate greenhouse builder.
Whatever the hell that is???
Oh, and yes, a well-digger who really
Knew his “Ass” from a hole in the ground.
Are you sure about that last one?
This’s and thats he took apart
Gismos and thingamajigs he parted out
Just to see what was inside.
They now lie in a corner amongst
A whole bunch of doohickeys.
Back, whenever, all his
Buddies had cleverly thought-out
And scripted nicknames.
Like Slice or Buckshot to name a few.
But Joe was just good O Joe.
Joe was a man who loved his work
No matter the task.
Measuring irrigation wells
Or blowing holes in the ground.
Joe was a man who came with joy
And left us with a hearty laugh,
Was a mentor to a lot of want-to-be’s.
Which is more than you can ask of anyone’s life.
Well, Joe Boy, I’ve run out of words.
So, here’s to you and life on the other side.
Thank you for the life you shared with us.
I’m sure you’re putting smiles on all
The good folks you’ve met up there.
10/26/2023
This poem is taken from the obituary of Joe Michael Anderson in the Lawrence Journal newspaper of Lawrence, Kansas. It is the coolest and most humorous obit I have ever read. Joe loved reading and quoting poetry and I thought it only fitting to honor this man in a poem. I am sure he wouldn’t object.
Thank You Lonny,
This was very kind of you.
I would like to let you know that Joe also had a few nicknames, Guiseppe, which morphed into Mozeppi, which morphed into Big Mo. But to me he was just Sweetie-Pie.
Debra
I sure am gonna miss my old bud. We had a lot of great times together, like the time we uh, oh I can’t tell that one or that time we.. dang, can’t tell that one either. . we’d make up vulgar names for automobiles and breakfast cereal. We’d drive around constantly and aimlessly listening to 8-tracks of Johnny winter ,Cactus, and the wild chickens band (inside joke). Later, listen to albums of SRV, the fabulous thunderbirds and the three kings Albert, Freddie, and B.B.. He turned me on to tons of great books and music. He made the hot, hard work of hauling hay fun. thanks Greg Ruby! we move hay! He would often visit my house in Osage where he left his bass & rig and we would slobber around on some blues for hours. Odd how some things stick in your mind, once watching a tight KU basketball game and he was wearing a groove in my carpet pacing back and forth, occasionally throwing back a shot of wellers and lightin’ up another camel. face red as a tomato, I thought he was gonna blow a gasket! A complex personality whom wanted to appear as a simple man, became readily apparent to anybody whom came to know him knew better. My regret is that I didn’t go see him more. My theory about being immortal is the lives you touch and the effect on those after you’re gone. One of the best friends of my life… Rest in peace Mozeppi!
I sure am gonna miss my ‘ol buddy. Joe turned me on to many things that made me who I am. I’m still kinda walking around in a light fog of grief.(Parts lifted from an essay by Aaron Freeman) I think he would want a physicist to speak at his funeral. friends and family will understand that his energy has not died. He would want the physicist to remind us about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. He would want us to know that all his energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was him remains with us in this world. he want the physicist to tell us that amid energies of the cosmos, you give as good as you get. The physicist would let Deborah know that all the photons that bounced from him were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever. You can hope your family be comforted to know his energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of him is gone; he’s just less orderly. (and that’s sayin’ something!) R.I.P., Mozzepi!!
Leave it to you, Dave Johnson, to cause me to write something. Your memories brought on the first tears I’ve had in days. And I’m delighted to remember that “according to the law is the conservation of energy, not a bit of him is gone; he’s just less orderly. (and that’s sayin’ something!)”
Again, thank you!!
I remember Joe Anderson playing Santa Claus at the KGS Holiday Party in the early 1990’s. He came up the elevator from the first floor, the doors opened and a bunch of small children were in awe of the larger than life Santa Claus. I also remember Joe Anderson’s face, which showed initial fear of 20 or so 2-3 foot humans that ran break neck toward him. He regained his composure and each child sat on his lap to express his wishes to Santa. Joe was infinity patient as each child sat on his lap. I do have one picture where my son Joe is sitting on Santa Joe’s lap. First time son Joe sat on Santa’s lap without fear (Santa’s are usually scary). I can’t load the picture, so it is at:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1uo1NIc8oYGNmonheyF_omXzUTLVQ1RrG/view?usp=sharing.
Joe Anderson encompassed the best spirit of the holiday.
I met Joe during my graduate studies at KU where we spent many cold weeks drilling out in Colby. He was kind, intelligent and had the best sense of humor. Despite our age difference, we had great conversations about life and he respected me as scientist – I learned a ton from him. I fondly remember him speaking often about his wife; sharing with me his plans to make her dinner “with lots of ingredients” and how he wanted to take her dancing on the weekends to “do a little swing… maybe a little jitterbug”. I just found a note I saved on my phone from 2013 titled “Joe Anderson’s Rules to Live By” and wanted to share:
1. Don’t ever play poker with a man who’s name is “Slick”
2. Never sleep with a woman if she has a tattoo of “danger” anywhere on her body
3. Never hit a man in anger unless you’re 100% sure you can beat him
4. Call your wife/husband every night – no matter what
Joe was one-of-a-kind and I feel so lucky to have met him. Sending big hugs to his loved ones, rest in peace sweet man.
https://photos.app.goo.gl/4U1pYRz7WRAMSjua6
My late husband, Lynn Watney, worked with Joe at the Kansas Geological Survey. He often spoke of Joe with friendship and respect. And especially with amusement! I met Joe and thought everything Lynn said about him to be true. I hope they joyfully reunite in that great oil field in the beyond!
I am so sorry to hear of Joe’s passing. My childhood memories are filled with being in Joe and Mrs. Wison’s home. I have fond memories of watching him work on the harleys in the garage, knowing every answer to jeopardy, enjoying a big steak at the Topeka Steakhouse, and being such a gentle giant. Joe and Mrs. Wilson always made the kids that were in and out of that house feel safe and like it was a second home. He was a special man.