James O’Kelley

James Patrick O’Kelley—known lovingly as Jim, Jimmy, Dad, Daddy, Papa, and Papa Bear—was born on Sunday, December 1, 1946, to Myrtle Duvall and Albert Ashley O’Kelley. The youngest of four, Jim entered the world as the baby of the family, already surrounded by the deep love of his older siblings—Albert Jr., Grace, and Verlene. Because his father’s work required frequent travel, Jim grew exceptionally close to his mother. And with a 21-year age gap between Jim and his brother Al, the bond they formed was uniquely tender and almost fatherly. That connection stayed with Jim throughout his life. Near the end, when memories blurred and time felt uncertain, he often asked for Al, his mom and he asked for his sisters too—a reflection of the deep family ties that never left him. Jim’s childhood took him through Virginia, South Carolina, and Miami, eventually graduating from South Miami High School. After graduation, he went straight into construction alongside his brother Al—honest, hands-on work that would become both a lifelong passion and an extraordinary artistic calling. At 21, Jim married his first wife and welcomed two beautiful daughters: Heather, born January 8, 1969, and Bridget, born December 25, 1971. Though that marriage did not last, his devotion to his girls never wavered. He remained a committed, loving father—present, dependable, and deeply proud. In 1977, Jim met the woman who would become his lifelong partner, Nancy, at a bar near the University of Miami. He noticed her from across the room and ordered her a Heineken. When the bartender delivered her the drink and said, “The gentleman over there bought you this,” Jim made his way over—and the rest truly is history. They married on July 7, 1978, and welcomed their daughter Jennifer on March 3, 1979. Jim and Nancy began raising their family in Florida, but soon a job opportunity came that required traveling across the country. As a family of five, they moved through Texas, Northern California and eventually settled in Southern California, where they planted their roots. There, they welcomed their daughter Angela on June 11, 1985, followed by their youngest and only son, Sean, on February 6, 1987. Jim was a devoted husband and father in every sense of the word. He embraced his children’s activities wholeheartedly, often volunteering, always showing up, and supporting them quietly but consistently. Whether it was coaching, building, fixing, or simply being there, Jim’s love showed through his actions. That same dedication extended beyond his family and into his community. Jim believed deeply in giving back. He proudly served as a Rialto Volunteer Police Officer, offering his time and presence to help keep others safe. He was a softball coach, tee ball coach, scout leader, and Etiwanda High School Pit Dad. He assisted with countless community projects always present, always willing to help wherever he was needed. Jim didn’t seek recognition, he simply showed up, time and time again. Jim was also a committed Mason with the Riverside lodge, where he took part in philanthropic work rooted in faith, integrity, and service. His faith wasn’t loud—but it was steady. Jim lived his beliefs through kindness, humility, and by doing right when no one was watching. Professionally, Jim was not just a construction worker—he was a true artist. After beginning his career in carpentry, he discovered his passion in artificial rock and water features, where his creativity and craftsmanship truly flourished. Working with Rock ’n Waterscape, his very first project was the iconic pool and swim-up bar at the Fontainebleau Hotel. From there, his talent carried him across the country, shaping remarkable projects including Gene Autry’s home, Tim Salmon’s home, Knott’s Berry Farm’s Roaring Rapids, JW Marriot Desert Springs, exhibits at zoos nationwide, and even the Mirage Volcano in Las Vegas. His work can still be found in high-profile homes in Breckenridge and Vail, Colorado, and in spaces where families gather, children play, and memories are made. People adored Jim—not just for his talent, but for who he was. He was kind, funny, gentle, patient, calm, resilient, and deeply caring. A gentle giant. A man of his word. Someone people described simply as “the nicest guy you’d ever meet.” His laugh was warm and unmistakable. His presence steady and comforting. In his later years, as dementia slowly reshaped the edges of his world, Jim began repeating a simple phrase: “c’est la vie.” At the time, it may have sounded lighthearted. It often made us smile and sometimes laugh. But now, looking back, it feels like one final lesson. C’est la vie. That’s life. Take it as it comes. Trust God. Don’t fight what you can’t control. And above all, love each other well. Without even realizing it, Jim was preparing us—with faith, grace, and that familiar calm—for the moment we’re in today. And while we grieve, we do not grieve without hope. Jim believed in a God of love, and we trust that today, he is at peace—reunited with those who went before him, and welcomed home with the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Jim leaves behind a legacy of love, service, artistry, and quiet strength. His work lives on across the country. His values live on in his family. And his gentle spirit lives on in every life he touched simply by being who he was. And honestly… knowing Jim… if he were here right now, he’d probably smile, shrug his shoulders, and say one last time—“c’est la vie.”