His daughter Darci called him "the quiet man."

J. Gerald Wilson's life was marked by humility, but that quietness is perhaps the reason he'll be remembered so vividly by those who knew him.

"He was very, very unassuming and never bragged. You didn't know some of the things he did because Jerry was quiet about it," said Marna Wilson, his wife of 48 years.

"Darci and I were just the opposite. Jerry had some Native American in him, and our son David took after that side. I'm part Italian and Darci took after me, so when we'd get too noisy Jerry would just grab a book and go out in the back yard to read."

An educator and coach for 25 years at North Pines Junior High School, Jerry died in early February from bone cancer.

Marna said she first met the 6-foot-2 athlete at an initiation dance at Eastern Washington State College. He was thin with hair so black it looked blue.

"I liked him right at the beginning, but he was so quiet," she remembered. "He danced with me several times and then he asked to take me out for coffee afterwards. Actually, I said no because by then he was so loaded from the spiked punch."

Instead, Jerry walked Marna back to her dorm room. He called her for a date the next day. It was the beginning of a two-year courtship. Jerry was certain from the start he wanted to marry her, and nearly scared Marna away.

"But he persisted in his sweet nature, and finally I realized that I did love him," she said.

After a short stint as an Army medic in the Korean War, Jerry finished a bachelor's degree in education and started teaching in the Central Valley School District.

Marna, who also became a librarian in the district, said he earned his students' respect, and he looked out for the lonely or unhappy kids.

"He gave numerous kids lunch money ... Jerry knew what it was like to be poor because they were very poor growing up," she said. "He also made sure they had tennis shoes because he taught P.E."

Jerry was born in Oklahoma, and had 10 brothers and sisters. They traveled west during the Great Depression and settled near Dayton, Wash.

During the summers he worked for local farms and canneries. His older brother said he remembered Jerry always had a book in his back pocket during the harvest.

He grew up listening to the Grand Ole Opry, and his favorite song was Ernest Tubbs' "Waltz Across Texas."

"Whenever it played he used to grab me or Darci and we'd waltz around the kitchen," Marna said.

She said she didn't learn until after they were married that Jerry had lettered in football, basketball, baseball and track -- all four years of high school.

Tim Hattenburg said when he started teaching at North Pines just out of college, Jerry quickly became his mentor.

"I had never coached before and he really took me under his wing," Hattenburg said.

A voracious reader, Jerry also helped supply Hattenburg material for his class on Washington history.

"I was really fortunate to be working with him."

When Jerry wasn't busy with work or his family, you could find him outside.

"He just liked being in the woods," said his longtime friend Bob Nelson.

The men taught together, spent many weekends hunting and fishing, and played poker with a group of fellow educators for some 25 years.

"He was a good person, I would kind of describe him as the salt-of-the-earth type."

Darci's husband, Mark Lawton, said at Jerry's memorial service he'll never forget the day he first met his future father-in-law.

He'd just returned from a rock-hunting trip in California and Jerry greeted him with two coffee cans full of rocks he'd collected.

"I was amazed that this man would take the time to gather all these rocks for me," Lawton said. "To me, this was the type of man Jerry was, thoughtful, sweet and generous. He always showed an interest in what you were doing, even if he didn't know a lot about it, like rock hunting."

David Wilson said his father's most important lesson was teaching his own kids the value of hard work.

"He was always demonstrating work ethics, without really letting you know he was doing it," David remembered.

He and his sister helped their dad raise fruits, vegetables, alfalfa hay, and corn over the years on their 81/2 acres in Otis Orchards.

Jerry later planted a forest of his favorite trees on the land surrounding the family home.

"Jerry always said that God is in nature. He was most comfortable outside," Marna said. "When I asked him about God he said, `How could anyone question there is a God? He's everywhere. When you plant corn, you don't get cabbage."'

The night before Jerry died, his loved ones gathered around him to talk about their memories, pray and let him know it was OK to let go.

"He died the next morning while David, Darci and I were holding his hand and telling him how much we loved him," Marna said. "We were very close, and that sustains you."