In Memoriam: Keith Guy McKinley

It is with broken hearts that Rett and I share the passing of our dear friend Keith. The memories we have of his smiling face and warm humor will help mend our broken hearts.

Obituary

Keith Guy McKinley, age 68, passed away peacefully in his sleep at his home in Mt. Sterling, Ohio on November 7, 2023. Keith was preceded in death by his mother, Judith Ann McKinley and father, Kenneth Joe McKinley. He is survived by his loving wife of 44 years, Joni McKinley; siblings Vickie Lewis, Mark McKinley, Jan (Steve) Brofford and Beth (Paul) Hazel; children Damion (Christine) Manns, Eric (Tracie) Manns, Dennis (Shelly Kreager) McKinley and Mandi (Craig) Dyer; grandchildren Andy, Brianna, Calista, Chase, Kambree, Owen, Sabella, McKenna and Dorian; and many nieces, nephews, cousins and friends.

Keith treasured his land and home in the country, and he loved living surrounded by his friends and family on Junk Road; family David & Lynda (deceased) Junk, David (Natasha) Junk, Max, Nick, Jill (Tony) Jones, Kenley (Steve), Griffin and the “Junk Road” Manns family (all listed above). Keith worked for Wilson Freight, where he met Joni, and retired from YRC in 2017. He was an avid Ohio State sports fan, but even more so a fan of his children and grandchildren, and any sport or activity they participated in, practically glowing with pride any time he had the chance to say their name. Keith was a lover of vinyl records, had a fascination with aviation, and carried with him a spark for adventure (i.e. dirt bike racing, Nascar-experience driving, and nearly anything else that involved a little risk).

Keith was a good and selfless man, and all who were given the privilege of having him in their lives knew they had a person that met them without judgement and always valued them for who they were, no questions asked. He knew how to make a heavy situation feel light. And he couldn’t help but find something within any conversation to twist into humor and inject at the very edge of “the right time”.

We will miss his earthly presence so much. But we will undoubtedly enjoy the memory, spirit and humor of Keith that will continue to live within us.

The first time we met Keith was on the first snow of winter 2014. It had snowed hard for a few hours and I (having not experienced the way snow can quickly drift on Junk Road) had just arrived from work to our driveway at Merry Mount. I noticed a snowdrift across the driveway, but I was intent on trying to reach the carport at the barn. I plunged forward into the drift only to be stopped and stuck. As I got out of the car in the blowing snow to assess the situation, I heard a truck pull in the driveway behind me, and a stranger with a snow-tinted red beard said, “You seemed to have gotten yourself in a pickle here.” And before I could answer, he turned and walked back toward Junk Road, only to flag down his son, Eric, who was approaching our driveway in another truck. Keith said, “Get in the car, and we will push you out.” The two of them then successfully launched me forward, and before I could get back to thank them, they had disappeared into the blowing snow.

On countless occasions since that first meeting, we turned to Keith for help and on each occasion he met us with generosity, wisdom, humor, and that wonderful smile. Rett remembers one hot and steamy summer day a couple of years after we had moved to Junk Road, as she was toiling in the garden, Keith appeared. He had driven by Merry Mount a few times that day and had noticed that she wasn’t taking a break. Out of concern, he had stopped to see if she was staying hydrated. After chatting a few minutes under the shade tree, he stated that he must depart and left her with these words, “You know that when we learned that you two were OSU music professors, we speculated that it wouldn’t be long before you two would move back to Columbus, but you know what? I think you're going to make it!” And he flashed that great smile and left.

To honor Keith today, we offer this poem.

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,

Nor the furious winter’s rages;

Thou thy worldly task hast done,

Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages:

Golden lads and girls all must,

As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o’ the great;

Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke;

Care no more to clothe and eat;

To thee the reed is as the oak:

The scepter, learning, physic, must

All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning flash,

Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone;

Fear not slander, censure rash;

Thou hast finished joy and moan:

All lovers young, all lovers must

Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!

Nor no witchcraft charm thee!

Ghost unlaid forbear thee!

Nothing ill come near thee!

Quiet consummation have;

And renownèd be thy grave!

-William Shakespeare

Our sincere condolences go to Joni and the family.

CPW