George and met 53 years ago.  I was 21 and George wasn't.
I was a DJ in Menomonee Falls, WI and George wandered into this little FM station on Shady Lane, down the street from his house.  That friendship endured for over half a century.  I worked for him, he worked for me, we worked together.  We made money together and lost money together and through it all George was always a part of my life.
Several years ago, when I lived in SD, George came to visit.  We had breakfast together at a little joint called The Mission.  When our meal was done, probably came to $10, George asked the waitress what she would like for a tip, she responded jokingly, $20. To her amazement, George gave her $20...that was George.
Recently I visited the same restaurant for breakfast and told the waiter this story. I then gave him $20 in memory of George.
For some reason I tell that story often to waitstaff when I'm out for breakfast.  They probably think I'm a little daft, but they appreciate the tip. 
The point is, George has been and continues to be a part of my life.  Big stories abound with George, but it's the little memories that creep into my life daily.  
Miss you Jorge'.

That was George and it was also how we met George and Bridget.  We were a charter airline, expanding our wings and George came into our lives and taught us how to barter. George exchanged our airline seat inventory (which is considered perishable inventory) into advertising (also perishable inventory).  Being generous George, it didn't stop there, he always made sure when James and I were traveling, which was all the time, that we had hotel rooms (also perishable inventory in his inventory).  One of the most influential advertising avenues he opened the door for us were the subway trains in NYC.

Although we have not been in contact for many years, we always think of George and Bridget and how lucky we are to have had them share part of our life.  We were thinking of them today and I googled' him, and found this wonderful site.

James and Beverly Pratt

When I think of my Grandpa George, I think of him laughing -- eyes crinkled up, mustache shaking with mirth. I think of the time I spent in the fields of the house in Oregon, the dew tickling my legs as he encouraged me to explore and showed me how to drive the little riding mower. I think of the legendary schemes my Dad's told me over the years -- everything from his t-shirt venture in Mexico to the Jesus Christ Superstar shenanigans.His entrepreneurial spirit will forever be an inspiration to me. Grandpa George was an incredible, loving, and kind man that I was blessed to have as my Grandfather. 

I was introduced to George through the friendship my parents had with he and Katherine. They were are neighbors in Menomonee Falls.  My best friend for most of my early years was Bob and Mary was my sister Jane's best friend. We spent many enjoyable days with all the Beaudet's. George showed me with so many examples of how to enjoy being generous. He loved to share. From the things that he gave me (with Bob's persuasion) as a young boy via trade merchandise when he was a salesman for WZMF to the time Bob and I spent a week when George was the Midwest sales manager for ABC radio at George's Condo in Chicago, and Bob and I would track George down as his office to ask for another "stack" of money to keep us satisfied with all our necessary entertainment and eating needs. George was a great friend to all of the Gleason's, especially my parents. He was so much fun, smart, and a life long example for me as to how to enjoy life and to be generous with your success. My sympathies to all of the Beaudet's. George lived a very full life. Jim Gleason

I’m so sad about Mr. Beaudet. He was like a superhero to me when I was young. I spent a lot of time with the Beaudets when I was growing up. Mary was my good friend and our families were close when we were young. I remember Mr. Beaudet, when they lived in Brown Deer, Wisconsin, at “the Mansion”, telling us to come on and get in the car and he drove us up to captain’s steak house to get hot fudge Sunday’s at 10:30 at night. We may have been in our pajamas! At some point they had the use of a limo and driver and we, the kids, would take it to White Hen Pantryto get turkey sandwiches. I met disc jockeys at the radio station nearby - WZMF - where Mr. Beaudet worked. Mary and I went to Mexico with Mr. Beaudet and then he had to return home for an emergency so she and I stayed in Acapulco on our own. Mary and I took tickets at the Midnight Flick at a theater in Milwaukee at midnight when we were maybe 12! The whole theater smelled like vomit. It was so cool! I could go on and on about all my nice memories of both Mr. and Mrs. KatheBeaudet. They were the nicest people. I love all the Beaudets and am sorry for your loss.

1996: I was working pas Director of Sales in a Hotel & Golf Resort in France.
One day, the President of my Company based in New York calls me: "how the heck did you manage to get my name on billboards outside JFK airport???! It costs tens of thousands of dollars! are you nuts?" "You made me nationwide famous!!!"
George had just taught me and convinced me to do trade out deals....
And so began a precious, unique, exceptionnal and touching relationship with George and his wonderful family.
Paris, Fontainebleau, Chantilly, Bandol, Nice, Marseille, L.A., Redlodge, Rome, etc, etc...
George's smile on the phone and irreplaceable voice will echoe for very,  very long .
Never have I met someone with a secret  chemistry who brings people together as a magnet.
Au revoir MONSIEUR George.  

This is one of my earliest memories of my grandpa, I must have been five at the time. We were living in the Marilla house, and my neighbor had a cool electric scooter. This inspired me to want to save up to get my own....I think the goal was $60. At the time I was making a whopping $5 a week for taking trash out and the cans to the street for my Dad. Grandpa and grandma came over, gramps haf asked what I've been up to, and I remember stuttering "I'm trying to save up for an electric scooter, can I have $2?" He looked at me with his famous smile and said "do you have change for 100?" I was thinking "gramps I barely have $10 for my scooter." And he preceded to pull out a $100 bill and gave it to me. The best part about this story, both my parents never thought I would save enough money when I was 5 for an electric scooter, so the money went to toys and video games for my younger self. My Grandpa was always so generous to me along with others, however the gifts will never outweigh my memories of him.

George and Bridget changed our lives. George threw Gene the keys to his Red Lodge condo and said "enjoy." He gave us a whole life in Red Lodge, MT that we would never have had including many good friends and a thousand incredible memories. George was Coco's faux Grandpa. Even helping her find a dentist within 2 hours in New York City. George was always willing to help people and was the life of the party while never missing a business deal. We know that George has found Gene in the big Rex in the sky and they are sitting together as they always did, having a drink and Gene a smoke. Gene and George were the best buds and both bigger than life. There are a lifetime of memories that can't possibly be all written down. George's generosity to us was unfathomable - we have no words. We love and miss you George.

George was the real deal.  He once said to me back in the very early 80’s in California while on vacation with my brother Tom, “Worry is the interest paid on something that might never happen” I never forgot that and think of him every day because of that quote.  He also helped me pick out that Rothschild wine that same day I believe.  He was so warm and comfortable.  RIP George!  You live on through your family as they are extensions of you

Gramps was always a kid at heart, especially when it came to encouraging and leading shenanigans.  One of my favorite memories with Gramps was from Hawaii when I was 7. Gramps and I would throw paper airplanes off the 13th story balcony of his hotel room, which quickly turned into a game of dropping paper whirlybirds and trying to land one in the pool.  We each tried several different designs and it seemed like only a matter of time before one of us would finally hit our target.  Later that week when Mick and I were swimming, I waded into a wet wad of paper.  I brought it over to my mother who shook her head and pointed up at the balcony, where I could see Gramps waving at us from 150 feet above beaming with success.  I'm happy to know that he was never humoring me when we would do ridiculous things together--he was probably having more fun than I was half the time!  Love you and miss you Gramps!

I think I was about three years old when we lived in a farmhouse in Menomonee Falls, Wisconsin.  One cold and snowy night, I woke up from a nightmare and ran in to my parents’ room. My mom was trying to console me, but I was hysterical trying to find my parents!  I ran out of the room and downstairs.  My mom was still half-asleep, so she thought I would go to my dad who was asleep on the couch.  I did not.  Still in search of my parents, I ran outside into the bitter night, barefoot and only wearing a little nightie.  I ended up in a field crying and freezing, but still searching.  Suddenly, from a distance, I could hear my dad calling for me, Betsy! Betsy! Betsy!  I must have finally woken up from that nightmare and started running towards the shadow in the darkness.  My dad, barefoot in his robe.

Once back inside, my parents were holding me by the fire and trying to warm up my toes.  I think I always added to the story that we had hot chocolate, but I don’t think that happened, it just sounds nice.

What I love about this story is that whenever one or both of my parents would talk about that night, they would tell it with such enthusiasm and suspense, but their faces had that look of “bittersweetness” at the end of the story as they realized what could have happened, but relieved for the outcome.

It’s a good feeling to know how precious you are to someone, and my dad certainly made me feel that way my entire life.  Thank you, dad, for finding me that night.  It allowed me so many more years to be loved and adored by you.

I am so thankful to have so many memories of my Grandpa, this will most likely be the first of many. I remember one summer, Amanda was at her rock and roll camp in Portland, so my dad, Annie and I took the drive from L.A. to Grandpa's old farm. I remember first seeing Grandpa and seeing a very "George Beaudet" style watch. This was my Grandpa's latest business venture. The next day he took me to his "watch shop" on the farm, and he had a room FULL of "Beaudet" branded watches. He then preceded to give me the two models he had in stock....not only that, Grandpa wanted to make sure I had a watch for everyday of the week. Throughout the whole trip, Grandpa kept giving me really expensive and nice watches..... I was 11. I wonder to this day what my teachers thought about an 11 year old wearing a watch worth more than a grand.  My Grandpa was so generous with everyone he came across, he truly loved life, and I think that's the most important lesson I can take from him. Love life and be thankful you're able to make a difference in other people's lives. 

If we could use one word to describe Dad, it would be generous. (Believe me though – there are MANY, MANY other adjectives that are fitting.)He was generous of heart and spirit. He always wanted to do something for someone, buy something they needed or wanted, or be of service to ease their troubles. He traveled to see sick friends, he employed or connected scores of individuals with jobs or services, he threw tons of awesome parties and loved donating to charities, always providing a big ticket item for auctions. Mostly, he showered gifts, big and small, of all kinds (trips, cars, small appliances, big appliances, jewelry, dinner, watches, clothing, the list goes on) to countless individuals. He was always thinking of others and wanted to share with them. When he was in the hospital last weekend, he called me and said “Can you order 3 extra-large pizzas with everything and have them delivered to the hospital. I want to get pizza for all the nurses on the 4th floor.” The last thing he did, less than 48 hours before he passed, was engage in an act of generosity toward others.

George was such a special person.  I first met him 30 years ago - very early in my career (I think I may have been, like 22 or 23 yrs. old at the time!).  My boss at the time (Glenn Emanuel) knew George well and we met through that connection.   In addition to working together from time to time on various business & travel matters, I got to know George more personally over the years and was always amazed by his warmth, sense of humor and magnanimous personality.   I was visiting Portland several years ago on a business trip and George not only invited me to the farm house (first time I met Bridget, BTW) for a late afternoon refreshment.  He absolutely insisted that I spend the night – “no friend of mine needs to stay in a sterile hotel room, just crash here!”    Always and ever the talented salesman, he, of course convinced me it was not an imposition and we had a grand evening.   One of my other fond memories -  my wife and I still talk about – George’s 80th Birthday celebration at the Queen Mary - - such a fun time!

When I was a kid, George and I had a (not so) inside joke about a man who spent thousands of dollars on scuba gear only to find someone at the bottom of the ocean in nothing but swimming trunks, with the punchline being the man in swimming trunks explaining to the better equipped diver "Idiot, I'm drowning!". It's a pretty weak joke, I know, but George got such a kick out of my telling it that he always encouraged me to say it again and again, drawing the story out into a shaggy dog tale of sorts. 

Well, over the years, I perfected the drawn out, pointless joke to such a degree that one night I told George the story of three men who find a genie that grants each three wishes. The first two men always wishing for wealth, fame, and the fulfillment of any earthly desire while the third wished for completely pointless and eternal locomotions of some body part (head forever bobbing up and down, arm constantly swinging in circles, etc). The men then go their separate ways before meeting again years later. After comparing how their lives had fared after making their three wishes, the "punchline" is finally delivered, with the third man (gesticulating wildly in accordance with his wishes) following the stories of the first two men's continued good fortunes with the line "guys, I think I messed up". It's a punchline that when told to a crowd can get any reaction between groans and crickets, but telling the joke to George over the course of a very drawn out fifteen minutes or so had him crying with laughter. Before I was even halfway through the tedious set up, I had to stop several times for him to catch his breath he was laughing so hard. And to be honest, by the end I was laughing nearly as hard as he was, barely able to get the punchline out between gasps for air. He was able to turn this joke that I'd told many times (and probably didn't even laugh at the first time I heard it) into comedic perfection, because he didn't need to wait for the punchline to start laughing, he was enjoying the ride and laughing along the entire way. Nobody could get as much out of that kind of joke as George could, because he lived his life that way, finding joy in each day and laughing the whole way through.

A few years ago, I was going through a pretty rough time in my life.  I had hurt my back and was in a great deal of pain.  Dad and Bridget had recently moved back to Cleveland and I wanted to be able to visit with them, but my back pain kept me from being with them as much as I would have liked.  At the same time, my manager and I were not exactly getting along.  Between having excruciating pain and dealing with a difficult relationship at work, I would get into my car after work and cry my eyes out every day for four months, straight!  In that same four months, my dad was going through his own health issues, but that didn’t stop his support for me.  He would call me every single day at 5:00, right as I was getting into my car after work, and ask how my day was…“How did you do today, Sweetie”?  I cried and cried, and then spoke a few choice words about my situation.  Dad just kept reminding me that this is all temporary. He would almost chant “It’s going to get better…hang in there…I wish I could do something to help you…can I help you?...is there any work I can help you with?...Honey, I am praying to St. Jude for you…you are top of my list (meaning top of the prayer list).

When I would finally calm down and ask how he was doing, his response was always the same, “I’m talking to you, so it’s a good day”.

Dad’s power of positivity got me through that challenging time of my life.  

God bless my Pops.

One of Dad's frequent quotes was "Never let school get in the way of your education." (I think he borrowed it from Mark Twain.) He always said this when he came to town and insisted that my sons play hooky.  They obviously were on board so I would give in.  At the end of the day, they'd be exhausted and smiling and tell me of their adventures and the great fun they had with grandpa. They were lucky to see first hand and spend time with someone who loved life and lived it to the fullest each day.  I hope they keep that bit of their grandpa with them and live as long and positive a life as he did.

When Danny, 4-year old Aurelio, and I went to Montana to visit, one of the first things Dad said to Aurelio was, "The only rule is... there are no rules!" Well, Aurelio sure took that to heart! Whenever I told him to do something--"Time for dinner" "Let's go for a walk" "Time to brush your teeth"--Aurelio said, "But Grandpa says there are no rules!"