Captain Al
By Madilynn Schumann
Alivan Compton Rea
07/07/1933 - 12/15/2019
Alivan Compton Rea was born at the base of Berthoud Pass in Empire, Colorado on July 7, 1933.[1] He was the second oldest of four children. When he was young, he showed a love for fishing and the outdoors that he would cultivate and pass onto his children and grandchildren. He was selfless and always conscientious of other people’s needs and feelings. To most, he was known as Al or Alivan, but to his kids he was Dad, and to his grandkids, he was Grandpa Al.[2]
Al grew up at the base of the mountain right next door to the town’s post office.[3] His house had wooden walls and a white picket fence. Al’s father, William, was a gold miner, a self-taught engineer, and an accomplished outdoorsman who taught his kids how to live off the land.[4] Al and his brothers learned how to hunt and fish from their father, but living so deep in the mountains brought dangers as well as benefits. One day, Al’s mother, Bertha, baked a pie and left it on a window sill in the kitchen to cool. Up the mountain, some hikers caused a landslide that knocked a boulder through the Rea’s kitchen and destroyed the whole room, except the wall with the windowsill and pie, which was left perfectly intact.[5] No one in the family was hurt, as Bertha had left the kitchen, presumably to take care of Al or his siblings in another room.
At a young age, Alivan’s family moved to Denver when his father was offered a job by the Gates rubber company.[6] In high school, Al became active in the ROTC, eventually becoming a Cadet Major.[7] He loved sharpshooting and became a marksman through the ROTC program.[8] After high school, Al would join the Colorado Air National Guard, the aerial militia and reserves for the Air Force. After a few years serving in the Guard, Al enlisted in the Air Force. He worked as an Instructor, a Military Policeman, a Toe Target Operator, and a Firefighter during his time in service.[9] Working Toe Targets was among Al’s favorite jobs. Al would sit in the back of a cargo plane while a fighter plane flew behind. When the two planes got to their designated training area, Al would crank a metal cord with target plates attached. The cord would dangle out the back of the cargo plane and the following fighter jet would shoot the plates for target practice.[10] Al also reportedly worked on classified projects and not even his son knows the details.[11] No matter what role he played or what job he was given, Al always thrived and his colleagues could always depend on him. Whether he was training new recruits or responding to local emergencies, Al spent most of his time at his base in Clovis, New Mexico.
After being honorably discharged in 1952, Al would return home to Colorado.[12] There he would meet his lifelong partner, Helen Mae McMann, who was one of his neighbors. After dating for a few years, Al and Helen decided to elope. As they ran away together to Raton, New Mexico, and they had to cross Raton Pass, a notoriously treacherous drive to make in the winter. They successfully made the journey and were married on January 29, 1955.[13] Their first son, Del, was born in 1956 and their daughter, Terrie, in 1959.[14] The family lived in California for a short time while Al worked for Arenco, an aerospace company.[15] Al continued his schooling at El Camino College before the family moved back to Colorado, where he finished his college career at the University of Denver.[16] He continued to work in the aerospace industry for his entire career, moving from Arenco to Martin Marietta, a building materials company that merged with Lockheed-Martin in the 1990s.
Al and Helen loved celebrating and spending time with their family. They were well known for their parties that went late into the night. Although their neighbors may have been exasperated with these shenanigans, these parties provided great memories for the children and grandchildren who got to stay up late learning card games, watching football, and listening to music with their family.[17] Christmas was another celebratory and special time for Al, although he always tried to be sneaky when it came to gifts. Al would take wrapped gifts meant for him from under the tree, weigh them, and then cross check those mystery weights with the weights listed in the Sears catalog in order to figure out his gifts. Helen caught on and started putting rocks in his presents in order to change the weight.[18] Early Christmas morning, Al and Helen would don their bathrobes and drive to watch their grandchildren open presents while the couple drank coffee.[19]
Alivan ensured his kids and grandkids were raised to love the outdoors. Weekends were spent boating on Chatfield Reservoir, fishing, hiking, and just enjoying the outdoors. Once Alivan and Helen retired, they fully devoted themselves to the outdoors by becoming volunteer camp hosts at Chatfield State Park during the summer.[20] They would live almost full time on the campgrounds, advising campers about the area and ensuring that everyone respected the natural space and paid their fees. This work gave them purpose and a reason to seclude themselves from the wider world while staying close to their family. Whenever they went out onto the water, Al would wear a captain hat and proceed to order the grandkids around in his goofy way, telling them, “Well, I’m the captain and captain says...”[21] It is obvious that volunteering and spending time with family were among their favorite life pursuits. After 11 years of this work, the Colorado Parks Department recognized them for their dedication towards being stewards of the land.[22] In the winters, Alivan and Helen preferred the warmer weather of Arizona and enjoyed visiting with their extended family, but they always returned to their children and grandchildren back in Littleton, Colorado.
As he aged, Al lost both his hearing and his eyesight, but he never lost his spirit. One day, when Al was around 80 years old, the whole family took a trip to California. While the kids were swimming in the pool, Al was in the corner quietly unloading his pockets of his keys, phone, and other items. He then started to walk to the edge of the water and mime jumping in, but no one expected him to actually leap into the pool fully dressed. When he came back up for air, he said “That’s some wet water!”[23]
Alivan passed away on Sunday, December 15, 2019. He is remembered for his wonderful sense of humour and kind nature. According to his grandson, Ryan, “He never yelled, cursed, put anyone down, or said anything negative about anyone. He would give you the shirt off his back. Nothing was ever about him but you always knew was there for you. I do not have a single negative memory associated with him.”[24] Al spent all 86 years of his life devoted to supporting and uplifting the people around him, and he will always be remembered for the incredible person he was.