Howard Harry “Bud” Bunn passed away December 14, 2018 in Ely, NV. He was born in Burley, Idaho on April 17, 1936 to Lavaun and Harry Bunn. He was raised in the Twin Falls area before moving to McGill, NV in 1949 to work at Kennecott Copper Company. He met the love of his life “Connie Roberts” and they married April 15, 1955, they were married for 63 years.

Bud worked at KCC for 30 years and poured the last copper before KCC shut down. He worked for Nevada Department of Transportation for ten years before retiring.

Bud was a lifelong fisherman and hunter. His most valued hunts were those well planned hunts with his son Scott. One of his most notable achievements was being awarded a Nevada Trophy Big Game Certificate for his 167 3/8 Typical Mule Deer taken in November of 1985 from Elko County. This certificate awarded him a place in the Nevada Wildlife Record Book. Bud also participated in the 1988 local BLM guzzler projects in hopes to help maintain and develop the wildlife in our area.

Bud is survived by his wife Connie, his children Shellie and Kelly Griffiths, Koie and Mike Connell, Lottie and Ron Apodaca, and Scott and Debie (Lee) Bunn, grandchildren Gena Cain, Annalee Howland, Lacretia and Jared Taylor, Daisia and Brandon Shedd, Sarah Griffiths, and Leann Griffiths, great grandchildren Kimarie Howland, Kanyon Cain, Macaylee Sims, Bayla Cain, Amaia Shedd, Rilee Taylor, Koen Shedd, and Alissa Taylor, sister Barbara Homan, step-father Martin Medley, brother and sister-in-law Tom and Betty Roberts and Doug and Georgiann Roberts and many nieces, nephews and cousins.

Bud is preceded in death by his mother and father, brother Fred (died while fighting in the Korean War), sister Beverly, and his beloved son-in-law Gary Howland.

Graveside Services were held Thursday, December 20, 2018 at 1:00 P.M. at the Ely City Cemetery.

THE UNLUCKY FISHERMAN

This is a tale about a fisherman named Howard Bunn

Who seemed to be an unlucky son-of-a-gun.

He decided to go fishing and needed bait for his hook

So, for nightcrawlers, he decided to look.

Now, he had this fancy rig run by electricity

And with it he could get them so easily.

But, these poor worms were happy and not bothering anyone

Until along came this unlucky son-of-a-gun.

He stuck those long rods deep in the soil

And the current caused their insides almost to boil.

In panic, they dug and headed for air

And that old son-of-a-gun was waiting right there.

With fiendish glee he grabbed them as they wriggled out

“You’ll catch a nice fish”, he said with a shout.

No matter he caught them by head or by tale

He laughed evilly as they went in the pail.

They watched in horror at their friends’ fate.

“Someone help us” they squeaked “before it’s too late.”

Just then, old son-of-a-gun stopped in his work

And tripped on the curb to fall with a jerk.

At first, he thought all that hurt was his ego,

But, then, he discovered he’d broke his small toe.

Seeing his plight, it must have made the worms smile

Cause, old son-of-a-gun, wouldn’t be fishing a while.

By George Carnes