Birth date: May 20, 1933 Death date: Dec 5, 2025
Our beloved father, grandfather and great-grandfather, Wayne Brooksby (age 92) passed away peacefully in his sleep of natural causes on December 5, 2025 at his home in Sandy, Utah. He was born to Alfred Brooksby and Vida Judd at Read Obituary
At the age of 2, Wayne was already an aspiring pilot!
Wayne at about 12 years old riding on one of his motorized contraptions he built with his Dad.
Wayne wrote this true story about 7 years ago-
"How I shot myself three times with the same bullet"
A true story by Wayne J Brooksby
When I was 12 years old back in 1945, I was at my father's ranch near Alton UT. My father and his brothers were bailing hay in the Meadow north of the ranch house. Located between the Meadow and Highway 89, there was a strip of land which was inhabited by prairie dogs. Now most people see prairie dogs as cute little animals who don't cause any problems. Ranchers, however, see them very differently. The problem is how they dig their holes. Most animals dig their holes on a slope into the ground but Prairie dogs dig theirs straight down about a foot and then parallel to the ground. So you have a hole about 6 inches in diameter and ten to twelve inches deep. If a horse or cow is running and steps into a hole, they break their leg and have to be put down. This made Prairie dogs very unpopular with ranchers and they shot them on sight. (In 1945 Prairie dogs were not a protected species as they are in some areas today.) While my father and uncles were bailing hay, I was hunting prairie dogs with my mother's .22 caliber single shot rifle and I decided to go over to where the men were working. There was a fence between the Meadow and the Prairie dog town to keep the cows in the Meadow and away from the Prairie dogs. Now in my hunter safety instruction I was told never to climb through or over a fence carrying a gun. I was told to lean the gun against a fence post, climb the fence, and then retrieve the gun. What I was not told, or maybe did not understand, was that I should lean the gun against one post, and go to the next post to climb the fence. So I climbed the fence at the same post the gun was leaning against and the gun discharged. The bullet went through the end of my right index finger, the base of my thumb, and then into my chest. The doctor said it cracked a rib and then lodged under my collarbone. Years later, when I had a side view X-ray of my chest, we discovered that the bullet was actually in my back. How it got there without hitting a lung is still a mystery. While I was in the army, working as an X-ray tech, I took a chest X-ray of myself and took it to the doctor to be read. He saw the bullet and said, "who is this?" I confessed it was me. He said, "Oh, you stuck something on your chest before you took the X-ray." I assured him that it was really a bullet in there. In the old western movies they had to take the bullet out quickly or the man would die of lead poisoning. I guess I am lucky. I have carried that bullet for 73 years and I am still alive.
