My Family Tree
Person Chart
Parents
| Father | Date of Birth | Mother | Date of Birth |
|---|---|---|---|
 Harold Richard “Dick” Hunnicutt Jr. |
1 SEP 1938 |  Esther Reid Adams |
11 APR 1939 |
Partners
| Partner | Date of Birth | Children |
|---|---|---|
| Michelle Colliver |
Sophie Reid HunnicuttHenry Morris Hunnicutt |
Person Events
| Event Type | Date | Place | Description |
|---|---|---|---|
 Birth |
28 OCT 1971 | Charlotte, NC | |
| Occupation |
Owner/Captain, Sea Screamer of Panama City Beach (FL) | ||
| Formal Education |
B.S. Textile Mgmt, North Carolina State Univ. | ||
| Occupation |
Owner/Captain, Sea Thunder of Myrtle Beach | ||
| Religion |
Presbyterian | ||
| Formal Education |
Diploma, Episcopal High School, Alexandria, VA | ||
| Marriage |
8 MAY 2004 | First Presbyterian Church, Gastonia, NC | |
| Death |
2 MAY 2011 | Gastonia | |
| Burial |
5 MAY 2011 | Mountain Rest Cemetery, Kings Mountain, NC |
Notes
| Chip found what appears to be the beginning of a book on Reid’s hard drive, dated October 5, 2010” GRAND SLAM The salty summer air blowing through the tidal marsh carried a twinge of memory, that of euphoria which only comes from the conclusion of a long journey, which for this boy if eight, happened every summer. The journey was arduous, fraught with boredom interlaced with brief moments of excitement, usually in the form of Mother finally consenting to a milkshake during one of the seemingly infrequent bathroom stops. Perhaps it was out of guilt to the Hardee's or McDonalds staff who knowingly watch her parade the troops off to the toilet and straight back to the car, but on some occasions she would make amends in the form of a purchase, and I would always pick strawberry, my favorite. The beach was a summer ritual, a small cottage on an obscure barrier island south of Wilmington. The glamour and noise of Myrtle was somewhat conveniently nearby, but this little island was far enough away that it remained a quiet little peace. A peace reassured by the consistent lapping of waves out front, and the practically nonexistent traffic out back. And when the seas rose just a little, the salty air would carry the echo of the sea buoy from two miles eastward all the way through the ever-opened windows. To a boy of eight who simply could not grasp the concept, the bouy's wave-powered horn was a marvel to behold every time we passed it. And we passed it a lot. Father was a fisherman. It was one of those things to which he could truly devote his full attention. Father didn't provide for us through his wondrous knowledge of just where the fish were biting. He was a yarn man, an offspring of a textile dynasty that imploded from family infighting before he was old enough to take the reigns himself. Not one to relax in the shade of the family tree, he made his own mark, getting noticed one day by the power-brokers touring their mill which he ran. They obsessed over a leaner payroll, yet Father ran three extra people on the winders. What he knew and they didn't is that those three folks boosted productivity enough to eliminate one of the $600k winding machines. "You must not overlook the cost of capital," Father had said. He had been right, and more importantly, he had been able to illustrate to the owners exactly how he was making the place more profitable. His star began to rise, and rapidly, but his hobby and passion was always fishing. As long as I can remember, Father always had a boat of some sort. She was named The Happy Hooker. They all were, and I'm sure it was much to Mother's chagrin. He never kept one for more than a few years, always trading in for a newer one with some additional comfort or feature unperceiveable to my young eyes. He was loyal to the Mako brand. They made a solid 25' center-console, upon which he hung a pair of Johnson outboards. While the U.S. Coast Guard restricts every boat to a particular horsepower cap, Father easily circumvented this pesky rule of law by peeling the stickers off the engine cowls and replacing them with with the decals of less-powerful engines. The burly 225HP Johnsons, posing as meek little 150s, well, they could set the water on fire. The Happy Hooker was always nestled under the cottage, snugly in between the stilts that elevated the house. The right-side parking spot had extra width (at the expense of the left-side slot) to accommodate the Float-On trailer's wide berth. The trailer itself was quite the innovation in the late '70s, and still so today. It had no winch as was found on lesser equipment. Rather, it was designed with a special coupler to allow the boat to secure itself under its own power. It was a tough son-of-a-gun too, as father often wielded it in battle with the local boat launch. The boat launch was a decrepit thing, but it was the only game in town. The owner put nothing into it, preferring to milk its lease to the N.C. Wildlife commission while avoiding any liability. Launching was rarely an issue, but the end of a trip was another matter altogether. Recovery at anything less than high tide was exciting, but the dreaded low-tide recovery was always an awesome spectacle. There was a legendary drop-off at the deep end of the ramp, an inevitable obstacle to confront; the tide took a backseat to the weather when it came to scheduling our outings, and such confrontations, while rare, were worthy of an audience. Father's tow vehicle was a big, red Oldsmobile 88 with a 455ci Rocket V8. It would easily shred the rear tires in a thick cloud of rubbery smoke, seemingly unaware of the massive load hanging behind it. The worst such occasion, I truly feared both double-axels would be ripped off and left sinking at the end of the ramp. My older brother drove the Olds, expertly backing the Float-On in the water, yet wincing as the empty trailer made a sudden drop off the end of the ramp. When I saw this, I knew it was going to be a hell of a show! Perhaps my fourteen-year-old brother didn't fully grasp what would happen when the 7.5L V8 As the Olds clawed for traction, my older brother giddy to |
| Reid jotted the followng on April 6, 2009. This message appeared in a 45-minute video created two days before he shot himself. WHEN I’M GONE LIfe is about the decisions you make. It really is that simple. Every single decision you make will impact how happy you are in life. Do not confuse this with micromanaging your life; you don't have to drastically contemplate the ramifications of whether to have fries or onion rings with your burger. What you focus on is deciding the lifestyle that will make you healthy. Stay away from the bad things. You will know what they are. Make good decisions. Make long term decisions even if it has less appeal in the short term. Decide to surround yourself with good people. Goodness is something in ya bones. You can feel it. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: On November 10, 2010, seven months before he died, Reid wrote an outline for what he wanted to tell his children. He followed this outline in a 45-minute video created two days before he shot himself: Meaning of Life Decisions Love Be nice Follow your Heart Why I left The Bad Things Courage God and Country Who you are How I met your Mother @S28@ |
| OBITUARY Reid Neisler Hunnicutt, 39, resident of Gastonia, died May 2, 2011 at his home. He was born Oct. 28, 1971, in Gastonia. He was preceded in death by his father, Harold Richard Hunnicutt Jr. Reid was an Eagle Scout, a graduate of Episcopal High School in Alexandria, Va., a graduate of North Carolina State University and a member of the Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity. He was a graduate of the Chapman School of Seamanship in Stuart, Fla. and a certified pilot of the United States Coast Guard. Reid was a successful entrpreneur, operating the Sea Screamer of Panama City Beach, Fla. and the Sea Thunder of Myrtle Beach, S.C. He was a loving husband, father, son, brother and friend. Survivors include his wife of seven years, Michelle Colliver Hunnicutt, Gastonia; daughter, Sophie Reid Hunnicutt, Gastonia; Henry Morris Hunnicutt, Gastonia; mother, Esther Adams Hunnicutt, Gastonia; brothers, Hal Hunnicutt and his wife Melanie, Burlington, Chip Hunnicutt and his wife Jennifer, Bloomfield, N.Y.; in-laws, Bill and Janie Colliver, Edmond, Okla.; sisters-in-law, Leslie Colliver, Edmond, Okla. and Angela Faye Black and husband Ken, of Texas; brothers-in-law, Michael Colliver and Gerald Colliver, Edmond, Okla.; nephews and nieces, Ricky, Rebecca, Andrea, Whip, Amelia, Amanda, Kaylee, and Monica. A memorial service will be held 1 p.m. Thursday at First Presbyterian Curch, Gastonia, with the Rev. Dr. John L. Frye Jr. and the Rev. Beth Yarborough officiating. Visistation will be immediately after the service at First Presbyterian Church Fellowship Hall, Gastonia. Interment will be at Mountain Rest cemetery, Kings Mountain. In lieu of flowers a memorial gift may be made to the Sophie and Henry Hunnicutt Family Fund c/o First Presbyterian Church, 1621 East Garrison Blvd., Gastonia, NC 28054. A guest register is available at www.harrisfunerals.com. Arrangements by Harris Funeral Home, Kings Mountain. |
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