Rick Beardsley was a study in contrasts. His sister, Judi Beardsley, 49, of Arnold says he was a shy and gentle person in his regular life. But put him on a stage and he became the rebellious, free-spirited rocker beloved by bandmates and fans alike.
In a eulogy for his brother, Rohn Beardsley of St. Louis said Rick at one time could bench-press upwards of 300 pounds, yet was “without a doubt the most gentle, soft-spoken and kindhearted individual I have ever known.”
Mr. Beardsley died Jan. 28 at age 52, after being diagnosed with a malformed blood vessel in his brain stem.
“He came alive onstage,” his sister said. “He was so shy and unobtrusive, and then he’d get up there and he was just electric. He never realized what effect he had.”
The Beardsley brothers played music together for many years in various local bands, including Amethyst, the Alan and Hays Show Band, Tuff Luck and Alliance. Rick also played in a cover band called Nickels and with a group called the Adapters, then joined back up with his brother to play in the groups 9G and Dirt Nap Theory.
The Beardsleys grew up in Imperial, where mom, Carolyn, was a fourth-grade teacher and dad, Jim, a band director in the Fox School District.
“My mom played the piano, but I think we got it (musical talent) mainly from my dad, who was a musician,” Judi said. “Rick was an amazing talent. He could pick up anything and play it, and he wrote a lot of songs.”
Mr. Beardsley was just as well known for his academic talents.
“They don’t make them any brighter – he was literally a genius,” Judi said of her brother, who was valedictorian of his class at Fox High in 1979. “He could figure out anything.
He was so gifted intellectually and so disciplined. It was like he had a photographic memory. There was nothing he couldn’t accomplish if he put his mind to it.
“He was so busy all the time, had so many projects going on. They called him Buzz. He was just everywhere and excelled at everything.”
He earned two associate degrees at Jefferson College, then went on to Northeast Missouri State University in Kirksville, where Rohn said his brother frustrated some of the other students.
“He had several classes that graded on a curve, but Rick always got 100 percent on all the tests,” Rohn said. “People started dropping classes because they were getting Cs and Ds instead of As and Bs, until the professors agreed to drop Rick's grade from the pool used to make the curve.”
Mr. Beardsley got his bachelor’s degree in computer science from Maryville University and went to work as an IT consultant, eventually ending up at Scott Air Force Base in Illinois.
It was there he demonstrated yet another facet of his personality.
“He had a baby rabbit that would come over and lay on his shoe when he went out to smoke a cigarette,” Rohn said. “It got to the point he could call for it and it would come out and hang with him.”
“Animals would just follow him home,” Judi said. “Animals were just drawn to his gentle soul. It was like they knew how loving he was.”
Mr. Beardsley also loved children and could entertain them with still another of his many talents.
“He could do the most amazing Donald Duck voice,” Judi said. “His enunciation was almost perfect, so he was easily understood. Kids’ eyes would just light up.”
Some years ago, Mr. Beardsley decided to learn Russian – and achieved fluency in less than a month.
“He always had an interest in other cultures,” his sister said. “He always wanted to travel and see the world. He taught himself enough Russian to get by, and he would go over there to visit. He liked to talk to people online – in Russian – and he would stay with them when he was over there.
“With his skills, and with the economy the way it is and everything, he could have really lived well over there. But he didn’t want to be that far from his family.”
Judi said about a year and a half ago, Rick called her one Sunday morning to say he’d woken up with numbness on the left side of his body.
“I told him, ‘You hang up right now and call 911!’”
Mr. Beardsley had suffered a brain stem stroke.
“The doctors told him that his brain stem was deformed from birth, that the veins were all kind of folded in on each other and messed up, and that it was inoperable,” Judi said. “They said he was a walking time bomb; that most people who have this die from it within a short time. He got a year and a half; it was miraculous.”
Judi said in recent weeks, her brother began noticing increasing symptoms of his disorder.
“He had so much fatigue; he was getting migraines and feeling dizziness. He couldn’t play his bass any more, and he had to type a little slower – but he wouldn’t give up,” she said. “I told him, ‘Live as best you can,’ and I tried to keep a real positive attitude.”
Then she got a call from his co-workers.
“They called from his work and said he hadn’t showed up for two days in a row,” Judi said. “And I knew instantly.”
His family would like to think Mr. Beardsley will be remembered as a man who loved his family, loved his friends and loved his work – but especially loved his rock and roll.
“Growing up in a family like ours, you get exposed to a lot of different styles,” Judi said. “But Rick was always a rocker. He loved Sammy Hagar, Dokken, Van Halen, Journey, Deep Purple, Whitesnake, Rush – I could go on and on, but he just liked them all. Music was a huge part of his life. It was his greatest love, hands down.”
“Life Story,” posted each Saturday on Leader Publications’ website, focuses on one individual’s impact on his or her community.