To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
Obituary
WINSTON CHURCHILL “BUCKY” MARSHALL JR.
Fort Fairfield & Cross Lake – Winston Churchill “Bucky” Marshall Jr., 84, husband of Gwendolyn M. (Willey) Marshall, passed away Monday morning, June 15, 2026 at High View Manor, Madawaska. He was born June 11, 1942 in Fort Fairfield, the son of Winston C. Sr. and Ruth Adelaide (Bishop) Marshall.
He was a graduate of the Fort Fairfield High School, Class of 1960, and furthered his education at the University of Maine, Presque Isle where he earned a B.A. Degree in Education. Bucky spent many days working on the Marshall Family Farm in his youth and become a well-respected and well-liked educator in Fort Fairfield, teaching math and science to generations of students, as well as teaching Drivers Education. Following his retirement as an educator, Bucky enjoyed several years as a long-haul truck driver for Trombley’s and Chamberlain Trucking. He was a private pilot, a member of the Maine Teachers Association, the Fort Fairfield High School Photography Club, and was a member of a barbershop quartet with several area friends. Bucky loved music and playing piano at parties with his dear friend Ernie Thebarge playing the fiddle. He also enjoyed boating at Cross Lake, waterskiing and traveling on his motorcycle far and wide.
In addition to his parents, Bucky was predeceased by two sons-in-law, Gary Haley and Rick Murchison. He is survived by his wife of nearly fifty-one years, Gwen Marshall of Cross Lake; three daughters, Nicole Marshall of Breukelen, The Netherlands, Cee Ann Lovely of Fort Fairfield, Raeleen Haley of Limestone; one brother, David Marshall and his wife Judy of Newport; two sisters, Ruth Simms of Kentucky, and Kathy Adams and her husband Bob of Texas; three grandsons, Damian Lovely of Fort Fairfield, Daniel Haley of Bangor, Flynn Stout of Breukelen, The Netherlands; several nieces and nephews.
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Memory wall
In his prime, he was a force to be reckoned with. Gregarious, warm, the life of every room he walked into. A man with an enormous circle of friends and an even bigger personality to match.
He was a high school Math teacher — beloved by his students in a way that still gets back to me decades later. He also taught Driver's Ed, which means he personally kept our roads safe for a generation of teenagers. And he taught me mad parallel parking skills. I still get smug about it.
He put me on skis at age 5 and I never looked back. He handed me a camera and explained aperture and f-stops until we'd both lost track of time. He sat down at a piano and could clear a room of conversation — in the best possible way. I did not inherit that particular gift, and I've made peace with it.
And the lake. Oh, the lake. Boating and waterskiing (insisting we go out at dawn to catch “glass”), marshmallows over the fire, floating around the dock, horsing around on the water until only a storm could force us back to shore. There's a family legend that I came home from the hospital on his motorcycle, wedged between him and my Mum. I've never been given a good reason to doubt it.
He gave me my love of motorcycles, my eye for a photograph, my confidence on a ski slope, and a lifelong belief that joy is worth chasing in all its forms.
We will miss him terribly. The lovable, talented, larger-than-life man who now lives in our memories.
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