Gerald Lesperance, Jr. Issue Date: December 6, 2017
Gerald Lesperance, Jr. shuffled loose this mortal coil on the day after Thanksgiving, 2017 (he was NOT going to miss that free food...) "Jerry," as he was known to all, wasn't so much "born" as he was "unleashed" upon this world September 5th, 1980.
While privately fretted about, this was spoken of as a joyful occasion by his immediate family. All misgivings were eventually proven to be justified, and the joy, positive energy and unhinged lunacy he exuded far outweighed any negatives.
Jerry had a happy childhood after the age of five once he and his father, the late Gerald "Blackie/Fidel/YessirRightAwaySir" Dean Lesperance Sr. kicked their "Dave Mustaine" out of the band. Jerry Sr. did not tolerate petty theft, grand larceny, nor communist lawnmowers.
The dual Jerri shared a love of football, racing, and professional wrestling. Their happiness was magnified ten-fold with the addition of Miss Sandy Benish... a woman whom Jerry and his friends concurred, was his REAL mom. This formidable trio rode snowmobiles, motorcycles, and a cherry Plymouth Road Runner on every road between Coleman and Manistique.
Jerry breezed through Coleman High School, completing that strange and disturbing journey in 1999. School was not the "best use of his time," but for those who met him via the educational route, we are more than thankful.
Jerry was, frankly, a renaissance man. He was able to make a living out of acting, wrestling, thrash metal singing, slaying rodents of unusual size in the bowels of his beloved Lambeau Field and the occasional cell phone slinging gig.
He claimed that his proudest achievement was becoming a professional wrestler. Jerry "Stylz," as he was named, was a charismatic 3-time Champion, his dad's favorite wrestler and the genesis of his acting career. His contemporaries begrudgingly consider him a "brother" and a "good hand," which is better than it sounds.
He was an expert in music, horror, comic books, and pop culture. If there was a concert within his general vicinity, no matter the size, he was in the mosh pit (which is considered very uncouth at a Decemberists show).
He possessed a seemingly infinite amount of love, a hint of boundless rage, and a list of friends around the globe who all wish they just could spend one more minute with him.
His acting "chops" were second to none on the Green Bay and De Pere area community stages. As a natural born actor with an instinct for the theatre, he took many less experienced actors under his wing and helped them hone their craft. His acting ability was only starting to realize its true potential.
Jerry parlayed his experience in the theatre into two seasons with Rob Zombie's Great American Nightmare in Chicago, IL. He was also a pillar in the Green Bay Haunt community, training and mentoring hundreds of young men and women in the Halloween spirit, all for the good of the charities he loved.
Many years ago, Jerry (and his friends) found love in the arms (and barbecue) of Elizabeth Hayward. Jerry's monthly wrestling pay per view parties were often catered by Miss Hayward. Triglyceride levels were raised by double digits, but all attendees breathlessly agreed it was "worth it". Their relationship was magical and tragic.
Jerry is also blessed with some of the most bad-ass Grandparents, Bernard "Bernie" and Petronella "Pat" Lesperance, of Coleman, WI. Jerry bragged about his grandfather's ability to disassemble a tractor down to it base components, strip it, repaint it and reassemble it from memory. He attempted to brag about Pat's cooking, but his mouth was never not full of it. Most of Jerry's friends and family would agree, he was generally full of it.
Jerry was preceded in the voyage to the Great Beyond by his grandparents, Dorothy and Henry Estep and the coolest dog who ever lived, Fridge.
The death of Gerald Sr. is something Jerry could never quite get over. In the days following his dramatic (could it have been any other way?) exit from this world, it has been said: To know him was to be perturbed by him. And to miss that perturbation like you wouldn't believe. As his spirit walks through the Hidden Valley, to that great Ranch in the sky, he will forever remain an All-Star in our hearts.
In lieu of flowers, thoughts, or prayers go out and do something. Go see a local band. Attend a performance at your local theatre. Go see an independent wrestling show. Volunteer at a reputable charity. For God's sake, live. He sure as hell did.
"Friends may call at Equity Hall on Sunday, December 10th. A celebration of Jerry's life will begin at 2 PM and run until 6 PM."
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