Gerald Carl Little

Family and friends, we gather here today to celebrate the life of a wonderful man, Gerald Little—a loving husband, a devoted father, an attentive son, a kind brother, a proud Vietnam veteran, a passionate art teacher, and a soulful guitar enthusiast. His spirit left an indelible mark on everyone who knew him. Born in Lincoln, Arkansas and raised in Claremore, Oklahoma, Gerald was a man whose heart beat to the rhythm of creativity, courage, and connection.

Gerald was more than just a father; he was a guiding light. His love for his two sons, Chad and Gavin, was unwavering, expressed not in grand gestures but in the quiet moments—teaching them to see beauty in the world, sharing stories of his life, or strumming his guitar to fill the house with music. His patience and calm demeanor made him a safe haven, a man who could turn any ordinary day into a lesson in love and resilience.

As a Vietnam veteran, Gerald carried the weight of his service with quiet dignity. He would be the last one to tell you he served. He rarely spoke of the hardships he faced overseas, but those who knew him understood the depth of his courage and the strength it took to return home and build a life of purpose. His service shaped him, giving him a profound appreciation for life’s fragility, a deep love of his country and a determination to make every moment count.

In the classroom, as an art teacher, he didn’t just teach technique; he taught his students to see the world through a lens of possibility. He believed that art was a language of the soul, and he had an extraordinary gift for coaxing creativity out of even the most hesitant hands. His classroom was a place where imagination was encouraged where every stroke of a brush, sketch of a pencil or molding of clay was a step toward self-discovery. He didn’t want to simply teach a class. He wished to impact lives for years down the road. The countless lives he touched—students who found their voice through art—co-workers who admired his wit and smile stand as a testament to his legacy.

And then there were his guitars. Oh, how Gerald loved his guitars. He may or may not have had a closet built specifically to hold all of them. Whether he was picking out a soulful blues riff or strumming a gentle folk tune, his music was an extension of his heart. In the evenings, he was often in the den, filling the house with melodies that spoke of joy, sorrow, and everything in between. His love for music wasn’t just a hobby; it was a way of connecting—with his family, his friends, and the world around him. Those songs will linger in our hearts, a soundtrack to the memories we hold dear. One of the family’s favorites was his own composition of a tune called “The Third of May”, a ballad about a lost love.

Gerald Little was a man of depth and character, a man who lived with authenticity and grace. He taught us to find beauty in the everyday, to face challenges with courage, and to never underestimate the power of a good song. Though he is no longer with us, his spirit lives on—in the art he created, the lives he shaped, and the love he shared so generously.

Rest in peace, Gerald. Your canvas may be complete, but the colors of your life will continue to inspire us all. Thank you for everything.