Bud was born October 25, 1933. He grew up in Vinita, Oklahoma, the second born of four children. At age eight, he would put his 410 on his handlebars and ride off to hunt squirrels for his family. He became a professional musician at age 12, playing in a country and western swing band with his father and brother to help out the family. He loved playing baseball and riding in the rodeo. Being a bit of a daredevil, he rode bareback horses and bulls.

When his country called during the Korean War, he gladly served his country by enlisting in the Air Force. When he came back to the States he started on the rodeo circuit, where he was reacquainted with his buddy’s sister Betty. In the next couple of years the two were married. They went on to have three daughters, Jo Dawn, Dee Ann and Tina.

Bud worked as a welder and soon had an opportunity to become a sales rep with a pipe and steel company. As the children were raised, he taught his family about giving and sharing. He brought his family to church every Sunday and spent his weekends teaching his family how to swim, ski and hunt. Family was very important to Bud.

During the next 43 years of Bud and Betty’s life, they lived through good times and hard times. They raised their daughters and became a part of their grandchildren’s lives. When Betty became ill during the last 15 years of her life, Bud became her caregiver. Their struggles were not unique, but challenging all the same. When he lost Betty, his world changed. He still kept close ties with his daughters and grandchildren, and he met a very special person named Barbara. They married and moved out to the country, where he was able to have a few longhorn steers, ducks, roster, chickens and lots of deer.

He focused more of his time to the Shriners and his Native American culture. He was part of the color guard that opened up ceremonial dances and danced as a strait dancer in pow wows. He worked with the Shriners helping children all over the country.

On October 7, 2003, Bud had a brain aneurysm. His life was fading, his children were called, and he was kept alive through the night by life support. He was supposed to be brain dead by the time the last daughter had arrived, but Bud was a fighter. And as the last daughter held his hand, he squeezed a couple of times to tell her he knew she was there. Even in his last dying breath he gave.

Bud Collins would have given the shirt off his back to anyone in need, and giving of himself at the end of his life was only fitting for a man who had given to people his whole life. Sharing whatever is needed in death is only right. We are not taking anything with us into the afterlife. But what we leave behind could make a difference in another’s life. Again it’s not what you have at the end of your life, but it’s what you leave behind. And for Bud, he left behind his great love for his family, friends, his culture and the children he helped. But hopefully he helped someone else because of donating whatever he had left at the end of his precious, wonderful life.