On Friday, December 29, 2023, at 11:04 pm, Roger Edward Buttermore fulfilled a long-held dream by kicking his oxygen habit. As his Australian children would put it, he carked it.

Roger is survived by the love of his life, his wife Linda. He is also survived by his sister Joan; his daughters Erika, Erin, Charlotte, and Lucy; his son Kirk; his eleven grandchildren Neve, Leo, Issy, Jordan, Cole, Emily, Cade, Piper, Mikey, Joey, and Nadia; his stepdaughter Brandy and her son Bentley; his stepsons Bill and Drew; assorted step-grandchildren and step-great-grandchildren whose connections nobody seems to clearly understand; his sons-in-law David Vieler and Robert Grubb; and his Savannah cat Sisi. His two ex-wives are heaving a quiet sigh of relief. A passionate genealogist, Roger no doubt cultivated his elaborately complex family tree on purpose.

He is preceded in death by his parents, Bob and Harriette Buttermore, his brother John Buttermore, an entire lineage of ancestors whose lives and deaths he painstakingly documented, and the battery drill he spent the last five years trying to fix before they both bit the dust. Kirk is still trying to perform necromancy on the dead drill but has fortunately left Dad alone.

Roger graduated from Pioneer High School in 1964 and spent the next almost 60 years desperately searching for his misplaced yearbook. While the reunions he organised were legendary, we can only conclude that he timed his death to avoid responsibility for the 60^th anniversary later this year.

He volunteered his service for the US Air Force, spending four years as a Sergeant during the Vietnam War. His time in the Air Force gave him many things, including his first tape recorder, several questionable photos in south-east Asian night spots of ill repute, and the heart defect that eventually carried him off. He was nevertheless deeply proud of his service and expected his children to make their beds and shine their shoes with military precision.

After returning to the US, he completed a Bachelor of Science in International Agricultural Development at the University of California Davis and a Master of Science in Aquaculture at Auburn University in Alabama.

His wanderlust then took him to the wilds of Tasmania, where he founded a dynasty by fathering four of his children, who have been a never-ending source of anxiety and disappointment to him, principally due to their poorly made beds and scuffed shoes.

He worked for many years as Senior Curator, Invertebrate Zoology at the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery, where he got paid to indulge his interests by pinning butterflies to cards and getting up close and personal with giant squid. His groundbreaking research on Tasmania’s bumblebee population saw him awarded a Churchill Fellowship which took him around the world to gab with other nerdy scientists who liked to spend their weekends videoing hives and hand-feeding their pet bumblebees. His work had the unexpected side benefit of proving that bumblebees do, in fact, sting, and if you wear a beekeeper’s hat, they will instead go up the leg of your trousers and attack your groin.

After 28 years abroad, he left before clearing out the attic (that’s probably where his high school yearbook is still gathering dust) and returned to the USA for Act 2 of his career. His work with the Department of Agriculture saw him first corralling quarantine inspection dogs in Hawaii and later protecting the State of California from invasions of brown moths. Next time you bite into a juicy, moth-free apple, you might want to say a silent thank you to Roger.

His arrival in California coincided with the revelation of his surprise daughter Erika, the result of a youthful indiscretion in college. Roger was overjoyed to welcome Erika and her family into his life.

After retirement, a cross-country road trip left him stranded in South Carolina with a broken-down campervan and a missing cat. While awaiting the return of the cat, he bought a house by the beach and married an artist. This was enough to induce Sisi the cat to stage a comeback.

A quintessential nerd, Roger’s interests ranged from sci-fi and fantasy to computer club. He lettered in swimming in high school, which was an appropriate outlet for his gangly limbs and wild kinetic energy. With his death, there are now remaining only an estimated 134 humans globally who know how to correctly use an apostrophe. This includes all five of his children.

He loved gardening, dining out, The Beatles, darkly humorous TV shows, having terrifyingly loud sneezes, and getting free parking due to his disabled veteran status. He also loved online karaoke. He leaves behind his collection of recordings on Youtube in case you ever need cheering up, as well as a truly bizarre assortment of costumes in his wardrobe (a clown suit with a curly wig? Really, Dad?)

Roger loved to travel, though it was a bit like going on tour with a cast member of The Hangover. One memorable trip saw us pursuing his lost iPhone across Europe like a game of Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?

His other pastime was major surgery. His assortment of life-saving interventions included (but was not limited to) open heart surgery (twice), gall bladder removal, spinal fusion, an appendectomy and bowel resection, and a brow lift so he would look surprised in his daughter’s wedding pictures. He survived melanoma and multiple basal cell carcinomas. Consequently, he had a penchant for taking his shirt off, because in his words, “chicks dig scars.”

Heartfelt thanks go to the medical team at the Ralph H. Johnson VA Hospital who treated Roger with compassion, care, and dignity through to the very end.

Family and friends are warmly invited to attend his funeral service at Williamsburg Funeral Home at 332 East Main Street, Kingstree, South Carolina, on Saturday 6 January at 1.00pm. The service will also be available to livestream at https://www.facebook.com/WilliamsburgFuneralHome

Interment will follow at Union Presbyterian Church Cemetery at 4501 SC-377, Salters, SC 29590.