Gary Wayne Garner was born on a hot summer day in Olney, in southern Illinois, closer to St. Louis than Chicago, in flat country complete with Southern accents. He grew up working his grandparents’ farm and actually liked it — the outdoors, the livestock, the dogs, the machinery. But the work. More than once in the midst of grueling trial prep he said no matter how many hours he billed in a week he would never work harder than he did on that farm, and at least now he was in an air-conditioned office. He was unable to forget the farm due to the lifelong crick in his neck from looking left over his shoulder driving the tractor, making sure the lines were straight.

Gary went off to the University of Illinois (where he first met his second family, the Haig brothers), with one false start plopping back in Olney for a long hot stint working in the tricycle factory by day and driving the dark country roads by night, The Who blasting at 11 on speakers that cost more than the car.

Shortly before the deadline to resume university, father Frank nudged him to get it done unless he loved factory work forever. So, longhand in a notebook, Gary wrote out why he should be readmitted. He ripped off the sheets and stuffed them in an envelope, spiral edges and all, and lo and behold he was in! That was his first inkling that he was persuasive, a good writer on a tight deadline.

Next up? Law school: The University of Kansas School of Law. A proud Jayhawk, here was where Gary first met the inimitable Charles R. Scanlon Esq. After the first test, his professor wrote the thirty grades the students had received top to bottom. He drew a line under the top three students’ grades, A, A-, B+, and said, “These three students will make it in law. The rest of you might as well reevaluate your choice right now.” Gary was the B+.

With his newly minted JD, Gary passed the bar in ’88 and was off to Chicago, the city he had looked north from Olney and dreamed about. He spent long stretches at three firms: Gardner, Carton & Douglas, partner, in ’96 (where he met lifelong friend Tim McDermott and his wife Lorelei); Steptoe & Johnson; and Williams, Montgomery & John. Litigators are a special breed of attorney within any firm, and Gary could be found pacing the halls early mornings and Sundays when no one would interrupt his thought process. He often woke up with a solution to a sticky problem, meaning the lawyer part of his brain was whirring all night long. One of his first bosses summed up Gary thusly: “For some people the glass is half full. For others, half empty. For Gary, the glass is SHATTERED all over the floor.”

Work-life balance was not a thing for big law attorneys in the ’90s and Gary deeply regretted time he was not able to spend with his children, and strove hard over the decades to make real boundaries between work and home. A many-year process!

Gary loved his children, Sam, Sarah, Max, Charlie, and Abby. He loved his memories of trips to the Brookfield Zoo with them, along with Blackhawks and Sox games — he loved his Hawks, but even more he loved every moment he spent watching son Sam play hockey, on the ice from peewee through Fenwick High. He was a lifelong Sox fan, and spoke at great length, many a time, about the Jordan years and how special they were for the whole city. He yes was a Bears fan, and sadly did not live to see them solve the QB problem, which they are surely on the cusp of this time. More than a sports guy, Gary was a dog guy. Boxers were his first love, Bogie and Rosie holding special places, followed by cocker spaniels Stubby and Shadow, and then “tri-pawd” rescue pitbull Nym capturing his heart in a way he never thought possible. One of his proudest moments was working his way to a place in his life where he could welcome his own shelter puppy, Jingles, and have all the time to give her!

Finally, the great through-line for Gary was his music and his guitar. “Bruce Springsteen saved my life one night” is a line he used often. Through music he solidified his lifelong friendships — the Haig brothers and their Casa and the IPC group formed as a pre-concert survival guide for the Indianapolis Bruce Springsteen and E Street show in December of 2002, where he first met his partner Pam. As his career wound down he had more time to work with his band and performed onstage at Chicago’s legendary Hideout in a Springsteen-heavy set with Joe, Dan, Jon, and Steve, with Goother on sound.

It was a magical night.

Gary left us far too soon, but he worked as hard as he ever had to try to overcome and heal. He had great joy in living his retirement, looking forward to so much. Sam and Cat’s wedding, fishing for walleye Up North, another gig with the band, another 2-3 E Street shows with Pam. Most of all, though, he worked for Charlie and Abby, as his time with them was far too short. The amazing teams at both the Hinsdale ER and the ASHU at Christ Advocate are to be commended for wielding the best of human science and medicine, and the kindest of human hearts in trying to save him.

Gary was preceded in death by his beloved Grandmother Bernice Opal Jennings and Grandfather Paul. He is survived by his partner Pamela Penzey and his children, Sam, Sarah, Max, Charlie, and Abby. His parents, Frank and Joan, brother Greg (Tina) Garner, nieces Brianna, Kirsten, and Megan, grand-niblings Evelyn, Belle, and Jayce. Charlie and Abby’s mom, Jenny Johnson, lifelong friends Devin and Sharon Wells, Karen Manthey, Joe McKinstry and husband Paul Butler, all the Haigs and everyone in their Casa, the IPC, and his beloved dog, Jingles.

“Looking for a little bit of God’s mercy, I found living proof.”

Visitation 2 to 5pm with a 3pm service on Thursday, December 15^th at Hallowell & James Funeral Home, 1025 W. 55^th St., Countryside.

In lieu of flowers, please consider donations to PAWS Chicago to help the shelter dogs Gary loved; Chicago Street Medicine, a society bringing healthcare to Chicagoans experiencing unsheltered homelessness; and the Brookfield Zoo to celebrate the happy memories and support their important work. Funeral information: 708-352-6500