Lisa Wells
1955 – 2025
Sumner, Illinois

My mom. I don't know what all to say about her that would fit in this box, but here goes! Mom grew up in Birds, the daughter of Francis and Aleta Crouch. She had 2 younger siblings, a brother David and a sister Cindy. David passed away in 1983, and Mom missed him every single day until she went to be him.

She married my dad, Kelly "Butch" Wells May 23, 1977. They lived together 2 weeks and couldn't get along, so Dad moved out. And a few days later, they decided to head to TN to get married, make that make sense! They always joked that they weren't really married because Dad forgot to pay the justice of the peace 😂 They got to go to Graceland, while Elvis was still alive, and that was the highlight of the trip for Mom!

She traveled with Dad for work to places like Marble Hill, Scottsburg, and all over. They eventually settled back in Sumner and raised and chased foxhounds. Three of their favorites were Glassy, Bomber, and Scooter. Mom worked various jobs during this time, but everything changed in 1985. That's when they had their most amazing accomplishment, me! I joke about it, but they'd both have told you it was true!

As I grew up, Mom and I became best friends. We did so much together, like going shopping, going to dirt track races, going to bingo, and all sorts of stuff. There wasn't much she didn't know about me or my life. I was an open book, and I let her read it all. We especially loved going to Tri-State Speedway to watch the non-wong sprint cars run, whether it was USAC or MSCS. Levi Jones was our guy, but when this fast, fun, new driver started cutting his teeth at the midwest dirt tracks, we started taking notice. Enter Bryan Clauson.

As time went on, Mom's health started to catch up to her. A former smoker, she was diagnosed with COPD probably 10 years before her death. She managed it as best as she could, but I would argue that really cut into her being able to go to the races. She just couldn't catch her breath from all the walking. In the parking lot, up the stairs, down the stairs, and so on. So we scaled back on how often we went.

Even when we didn't go, we followed our favorite drivers online. Nothing made us more excited than to head to Tri-State Speedway on Memorial Day weekend 2016. We listened to Indy 500 coverage on the way there, and Bryan Clauson was attempting the 500. And he was leading the race, it flashed on her radio screen. I told her that was pretty damn cool to see one of our favorites leading the greatest spectacle in racing! He didn't win, but he was always a winner in our book just because he led a lap!

Fast forward to August, and I get word online that BC had been in an accident at Belleville Midget Nationals in KS. They are very quiet with updates, and while we are fearing the worst, we actively prayed together for every bit of good news we could find. Then came the tragic update; he was not going to survive. We both actively sobbed. How could we get so attached to someone we didn't even know, outside of speaking to him briefly with a - Hi, how are you, kick some ass tonight and park it - in the pits? When we saw he was an organ donor, Mom made the statement to me, if Bryan can do that, I think I can do that too. And I said of course you can Mom. When she renewed her license, she checked that box to become an organ donor. And we all went on and never thought about it again.

Mom had a COPD flare up that nearly took her from us December 24, 2023, and we were terrified. Her Dr said it could be a one off or could happen frequently. Her next one wasn't until November 8, 2024 and wasn't nearly as bad. Then came December 31, 2024, and that one was even more mild. But she was also going to pulmonary rehab twice a week religiously since early December. She'd lost weight, felt like she could breathe a little better, and overall just felt better in general.

Then came February 28, 2025, a day that will live in infamy in my world, a day I'd like to forget. We spoke briefly that morning, and she told me she was going to get her coffee. And not 10 minutes later, I hear my Dad yell for help that Mom couldn't breathe. I call 911, assuming this was another COPD episode, but things took a turn for the worse just 7 minutes later. She collapsed in the living room, and I'd just taken a CPR class a week before and knew what to do. So with dispatch on the phone, Dad in hysterics, I did the only thing I could to try to help her. I started CPR and did it until the medics and fire department arrived.

The drive to the hospital was difficult, but then came the horrible news from Dr. Herron. Your mom's injuries appear to be unrecoverable. She has essentially no brain function. I had a panic attack in the ER. Two hours prior, she was fine. And now, she was basically gone. We moved upstairs, had some further testing, and determined she had little chance at recovery outside of spending the rest of her life hooked up to machines in a facility, meter talking to us again. We didn't want to let her go, but she'd made clear her wishes just last year. She wanted anything done so long as her doctors thought she'd recover normally. She took the choice out of our hands. So while Dad and I told them what she wanted and that despite shattering our hearts, we would respect her wishes, in came the donor team. Did you know your Mom was an organ donor? I'd forgotten, and Dad didn't even know to begin with. And our story shifted.

Mom lived another 2 days because they worked to find matches for her organs. And on Sunday, March 2, 2025, we took part in an honor walk that many friends and family members attended, including our fire department. That was the most humbling, moving, honorable thing I've ever been a part of. While we made that trek to say goodbye to Mom, 2 other families were getting calls saying they had found life saving organs for their loved one. Oh the irony. We went into the OR with her, and at 3:53 eastern time, Mom took her final breath in this world and her first breath in Heaven.

That first breath in Heaven meant she was with my grandparents again. She saw her brother David, her aunts and uncles, her cousin Bill. But I know the first person she ran to. Her Granddad Luther, a man she told me was the finest person to ever walk this earth. As heartbroken as we were, I went back to the waiting room where friends were still gathered and told them, she did it. She passed on her own with life support removed in time for the organ retrieval to happen. Her wish came true, her legacy fulfilled. All because of checking that little box on her license renewal. All because she admired a young kid who drove a sprint car with such passion. I'd like to think Mom found BC in Heaven and told him how after nearly 9 years, he's still touching lives.

We had Mom's service at Emmons Macey & Steffey Funeral Home in Lawrenceville on March 6. So many friends and family came to support us, and honestly, we couldn't have gotten through it without them. It's a true testament to who Mom was and how much everyone loved her. We always knew how wonderful she was, but to hear it from so many others meant the world to us. We then had her committal service at the Sumner Cemetery on March 28. Her final resting place is a pink and red urn, and I made her a flamingo Lego to be placed with her for eternity. If you knew Mom, you knew she loved flamingos.

If you've read this far, thank you. It means so much to me that you care enough about Mom, Dad, and me that you have visited her memorygram page. Please leave a note or tribute and enjoy the photos. And please anytime you see a flamingo, always think of my Mom, who saw beauty in everything in life, who brought joy to all who knew her, who was happiness personified 💗