Russ became such a blessing in our lives!  I can't begin to list what he has done for us.  It would take a whole page and I know Russ wouldn't want me to do that.  Russ once said to me, "what I did was out of love for the man, and then I was able to meet his family."
My dad had so many friends.  I could go on about all of them but I hope you all know how important you were to him.  He would have loved to have had another beer with you!
I was fortunate to have seen my dad frequently over the last five years of his life.  I know he was ready to end his difficulty in breathing and to be with my mom, and the family and friends that have gone before him.  
I'm so grateful that this divine plan you had included my sisters being here with me when you left.  They came to celebrate your birthday, but you decided to leave before we could have that last margarita with you.
Rest In Peace Dad!

My dad was well known in the high desert that he called his home for most of his life.  He worked at a few body shops in the area until he opened Frank and Gene's body shop in Hesperia.  His skill and talent was unrivaled.  When we moved to Hesperia there was a population of approximately 2500.  We knew just about everyone.  Word spread fast that Gene was the one to go to if you needed your car repaired or painted.  My earliest memory of my dad's trading skill was when I got my first pony at the age of 5.  He painted a horse trailer in exchange for my pony.  We brought her home in the back of my dad's 1932 Ford pickup truck.  Word spread that if you had a skill and couldn't afford your car to be painted or repaired he would trade your skill for his.  I'm sure many of you have benefited from one of these trades just as he benefited from one of yours.  Be it concrete, electrical, backhoe, dentist or doctor my dad benefited from it all. Many people probably still have a car he painted or you wish you had it back.
My dad loved his years with the Apple Valley Sheriff's Posse and the many friendships he made there.  He developed a close relationship with the law enforcement community in the area.  He was the one the CHP and Sheriff's departments would bring the patrol cars to be repaired.  He heard many wild stories of how the patrol cars had gotten damaged.  When my dad's illness got worse two off these friendships became very important to me and my family. Jay Dwyer, a retired CHP, was always there for me when dad needed transportation to the doctor or anything around the house, he'd be there.  I got to know Jay well, as I would always meet him and my dad at Kaiser in Fontana and we'd go to lunch afterward.  Unfortunately Jay passed away last September. 
The second of these friendships was Russ Lons, a retired Sheriff.

I met Gene at Frank and Gene’s body shop in Hesperia, California. My car had major sand damage and Gene came highly recommended to do the repairs. He was very friendly and knowledgeable about how to make the repairs. Gene treated me as an adult and not like the 18 year old kid that I was. I spent many evenings after work visiting the shop and watching Gene at work. We developed a great friendship and he was like a father figure  to me. I will cherish the memories we created forever! 

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I remember eating barbecue at his house so many times.  From the juicy steaks, tender chicken and whatever that was he buried and slow-cooked in a hole out near the fence.  Talking into the night, not wanting to leave.  Great family times, all courtesy of the Cordova hospitality.
Gene cared so much for his kids.  We built a beautiful house on an acre lot next door that he nearly gave to us.  He loved that his kids were near, and we loved being near.  He would tell me so many stories, and every once in a while, he would tell one I had heard before.  Well—actually he did that often.  I didn’t mind, I could listen to him all night.  I would go next door and tell him about every little event in our lives.  I could tell Gene anything, and usually did.
Gene Cordova was a man’s man.  He rode a horse, drove a car, wore a uniform, drank a beer and walked his talk like no other I have known before or since.  I remember one very late night he was feeling particularly manly when he called and shared.  We lived next door, and I immediately went over and knocked on his door.  Some said that it took guts to do that.  They were wrong.  It took love.  I loved that guy.  He was the father-figure I needed to grow up.  Had I stuck closer, I would have grown up much sooner.
I could talk all night about Gene; he was such a character, a one of a kind for sure.  But these words are getting blurry, as is my memory.  I was so blessed to have known Gene, and so lucky he cared for me.  I hope he was able to look back on a life well lived, and so well shared, because every one knows that he gave much more than he got.  So much more.  Ride easy Gene—you deserve it.  


Gene Cordova.  God, I miss my life with him.  I remember spending countless evenings with him in his shop working (yes, we worked sometimes) on some of my favorite vehicles.  We dropped an engine in Kathy’s 69 Cougar, and painted it a beautiful dark green.  He lowered my brother’s dually (complete with a frame drop and air bags) to include an enviable paint job that my brother was so proud of, and that stood up to the harsh Glamis winds and sun season after season.  We painted my beloved 280Z with a clear coat that it felt like you could swim in.  I can’t believe I traded that car for a Beamer.  I miss that car, and I miss Gene.  I wish I still had both.
Some referred to him as talented, but Gene was supremely skilled.  He studied and learned his craft at a time when they didn’t have trade schools.  He was a master.  He could do things with iron, steel and paint that most can only dream of.  I couldn’t believe his work ethic, and I surely couldn’t match it.  I was in awe of him—and am still to this day.  I often tell my students about him, because he was the best example of a true technician I could offer them.  He is the one I envision when I encourage them to do their best.
I remember the pride he took from his home improvements.  His patio, his garages, his cement work, those beautiful trees, and his right-out-of-a-western-barn out back, with its false front and wooden porch.  My ringer washer (why did I collect that?) sat out front for a while and looked right at home.  All it needed was a saddle hanging on the rail—no wait—it didn’t need anything, it was perfect.
Continued...

I am going to miss you so much...You were  a big part of my life and  I have always thought of you as one of my big bothers... I know I will see you again...Give Dave a big hug for me....Love you and will miss you terribly.....Susie

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Eugene Joseph Cordova

13 mai 1932 – 13 mai 2021

Desert View Funeral Home & Memorial Park

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