Wallace died early Monday morning of pancreatic cancer. He was only 55 years old. Wallace connected with many people throughout his time on earth, and I was blessed to have exclusive annual ringside seats.

Survived by: Stephanie Haile, wife
Dalton Haile, son
Stevie Fox, daughter
Rayemond Fox, grandson
Steffanny Fox, granddaughter
God brought him to me 35 years ago. A Love letter from his wife, to you.

“Every man dies, not every man really lives.” William Wallace

Let us tattle a tale that is totally true.
Started out as a rumor, but suddenly grew.
It deals with man, some say pauper, some say king.
So settle on in, and our song we shall sing.

Straight from the screen of fable and romance, he rode in on a horse made of steel. Love at first sight with each destination an adventure.

Wallace tamed grizzly bears, raised sled dogs, built log homes, drove any machine and had the keys to do it. His love of the water was shared with his son when they became certified divers.

Wally was a dreamer. Our favorite movies held pieces of Wallace in the protagonist. Charlie Bucket, Captain Jack Sparrow, Michael J. Crocodile Dundee, and Paul Bunyon with a sprinkling of Cledus Snow.

Wallace took us trekking over suspension bridges, up 75 degree incline slopes over rapids simply because the distance was shorter, all with our wolf hybrid huskies in tow.

We fished the dams, power plants, lakes, and Atlantic ocean. Off a dock, on a Minnesota lake, 8 year old Dalton stepped off plunging deep into the water. Within seconds, Wallace leaped the length of the planks, bent over, and snatched him by the scruff, pulling him swiftly out, standing his son on the dock. Wallace turned, went back to rigging the pole and said, “he’s ok”.

Working with cinema animal trainers, Wallace’s job included feeding the grizzly bear. He watched the bear as he flipped his 3500 pound water trough easily across the containment area and bravely stepped into the enclosure. Wallace had a force or presence that held other energies at bay and that grizzly shuffled his feet observing him. Crocodile Dundee’s dobie.

Wallace was the captain of his ship. “Not all treasure is silver and gold mate. Savvy?” Connection, experience, dreams, and adventure were the hidden gems. He took us on airboats, ships, canoes, and sail.

On our first trip to Key West, Wallace designed the date of a lifetime. It began on a small sailboat. He had never steered a sailboat but handled it like a pro. The winds picked up severely, heading us straight to Cuba. Not skipping a beat, Wallace effortlessly studied the ropes and design and turned us in the correct direction. No worries.

The date ended at a Key West bar featuring a lone guitar and empty patronage. Wherever Wallace took us started out with limited people but within minutes a crowd would form.

A crowd did form, the music played. A visit to the restroom and Wallace had disappeared.

A Marine band had entered the bar a few moments before my absence and at once sat around Wallce setting up the rounds and promptly proceeding to march him out the door for enlistment. Pressing the crowd, I grabbed his arm. We drove home the next morning.

We have traveled through or lived in more than half these United States. While we lived on Potlatch land in Minnesota, we discovered a plethora of young pine trees waiting for an ax. With mouth drooling glee, Wallace dutifully bought his son a proper ax for his birthday. After pointing out the biggest, hardest tree on the property, Wallace instructed Dalton to chop the beast tree. A deal was struck between father and son that if said task was accomplished, Dalton would be given free reign, choose and chop any and all he wished.

Wallace was also an over the road (OTR) Truck driver. The industry terms of Hot Shot and drivin’ truck are standard. Wally brought us out on a few trips, showing his master of “getting his ears on” and “shooting skip”. Wallace called one night with his trailer hanging off the side of a mountain out west, talking himself through backing down the narrow pass. He kept the bugs off his glass and bears off his … tail. Wallace memorized every law of every road he traveled from California to New York, Canada to Texas, keeping the loose leaf logbook on the seat at his side. Respect and the law were cemented in Wally’s DNA.

Wallace built bridges, walked planks, flew off the top rope, and dove the ocean floor.

Training for the WWF with Black Jack Mulligan was a season of life Wallace cherished. The kids were diaper babies, the ring was set, Wallace would leap from the top rope, flip and fly through the air towards his opponent. After each session, Jack, standing outside the ring, would palm plant Dalton and Stevie’s stomach and body slam them to the mat. They eagerly got up, began laughing with big belly laughs running in circles until Jack caught them for a “do it again”. We laughed to tears everytime.

Wallace aligned himself with powerful men throughout his time on earth. Jack, General Edward Brown, my dad Lawrence Ferris, all were mentors, friends and father figures for Wallace. Each helped to shape, support, and connect with Wally. Jack’s strength, General Brown’s courage, and Larry’s True Grit. They are all missed.

The residents, contractors, and employees of IRCC touched Wallace tremendously during his 15 years. I loved when Wally would come home to recount each connection of his day. The prayers, kind words, and friendship were joyful and appreciated. You all meant the world to him.

Wally was his son’s Superman, his daughter’s protector, and my magic. This is our Wallace love gift to everyone who shared a part of his life. We love you, God bless you all and you are greatly and eternally appreciated.

My Father was Superman

My Father was my Superman. There was never anything he couldn’t get done or do for me if I needed him to. He instilled in me a work ethic that matched his own, if I can move, I can work.

He had this stoic wisdom about him that wouldn’t be understood by most, unless you knew how he looked at the World. Which was simple, a thing was or it wasn’t and all you could do was prepare for a wasn’t to become a was or expect it to stay the same.

That seems rather reductive I imagine to someone who never spoke with him… but if you ever got the chance to really listen to him… you might just understand what I mean. – Dalton Haile

If You Are Missing Him

My Father Really enjoyed Fishing. So much so that he recorded himself surf fishing, both alone and with his friends. These recordings are still available on Florida East Coast Surf Fishing YouTube. A link can be found here FECSF.com