This memorial website was created in the memory of our loved one, Wesley Alan Matheson who was born in Arkansas on September 12, 1981 and passed away on May 06, 2002 at the age of 20. We will remember him forever.

      It was clear from the very beginning, Wes, was going to be my adventurer. Born in Calico Rock, Arkansas, Wes entered this world on his own terms, six weeks before his due date. Walking to the beat of a different drummer, he did not  crawl, he crab walked, not wanting to talk, he jabbered and squealed. He was always on the go, always slaying imaginary dragons. 

      Wes, and  his two brothers, Willy and Casey, were never far from their father, Joe. Wes, like his dad loved the outdoors and nature. He was always stopping to smell the flowers, or to capture some kind of reptile or critter. Our house was always over run with Wesley's pets. Frogs, lizards, snakes, rescued birds,  and hamsters, freed from their cages, roamed my house freely, Wes wouldn't have it any other way. 

      Wes, loved all sports. He played organized baseball and basketball, he rode bulls in the pee wee and junior devision of our local rodeo club, he free climbed the cliffs around our home. He lived for the summers and our frequent camping trips to the White River and Blanchard Springs Caverns.

     Wes was drawn to the outdoors like a moth to light. School did not come easy for my son. It took more energy for Wes, to sit still in a classroom, for twenty minutes than it did for him to climb the towering pine tree, in our back yard. 

     When  Wesley, was eleven  he lost his dad, from a three year bout with cancer. He was lost without Joe,  and started spending even more time in the woods.  You very seldom saw my son, without his signature backpack, floppy hat and army fatiques.

     I knew my son's goals were to earn enough money,  leave Stone County, Arkansa, and travel to exotic places. When Wes, was  sixteen, he entered a school in another county. There, they helped him get his GED, deal with his A.D.D.  and attend  classes at a Votech. For the first time in his life, I saw him interested in school. Wes worked at odd jobs the last two years he lived in Arkansas. He even helped his stepdad, build our log home,  cutting the timber down, peeling the logs, raising the walls. Nothing was going to stand in the way of this young man's dreams.

 
      In February of 1999, Wes sold hid truck and with his savings flew to Mau, Hawaii. He soon found a job and a place to live. He worked one day a week for his tent sight, which was on a small tree farm. The owner took a liking to Wes and allowed him the use of all his tools and work shop. Wes, truly thought he was in heaven.

 
      Wes lived on Maui for two years. His stepdad and I got to see him twice, once on a trip to Mexico, where Wes, joined us and when we went to Hawaii, to see him and his little brother. Casey,  had joined him in Sept of 2000. It was great seeing Wes, so happy and independent. He was still the same nature lover and our trips were full of hiking, swimming, climbing. No sunbathing for this crew.

 
      Wes had found a new passion in life, landscaping. Brian, his  landlord on Maui, had gotten Wes, interested in tropical and exotic plants. He was learning to grow everything from Orchids to Taro. He was living in a tent, working at a coffee shop during the week,  helping Brian, with his plants on weekends and loving every minute of it. Wes,was again truly happy.

     Wes, began questioning his role on this planet. My son had lots of questions and for the first time in his life he turned to me. 
 I loved his calls, we would talk for hours about life, religion, spirituality, his purpose and roll. He wanted to know everything. I was so happy for my Wes. 

     In Oct of 2001, Wes was offered a job on the Big Island of Hawaii. He called and asked for my advice, I told him to follow his heart. I knew he, loved where he was, but I also knew he was getting restless. Wes wanted another challenge and this opportunity seemed too good to pass up. He was being offered a house to live in, while renovating it, plusthere was two acres of jungle to claim and landscape. This was a job ,no one else I knew would tackle.

     The property was on the wet side of the island, back in the jungle, isolated, with no amenities. Wes, started calling weekly.  He always had a way of making me laugh, with stories full of new adventures. He was in a coctant fight with the wild pigs, who were cocstantly destroying his yard work. The generator he used for his electricy was always needing to be repaired, something he could do with little effort. He was busy, all day every day, putting in windows, painting and digging water lines but he still found time to explore and meet his neighbors. 

     Hank and Jane, were an  older couple who had moved to Hawaii to get away from the  real world, to live off the land and grow orchids, Wes, loved helping  them with their land. When Hank was laid up with a hernia operation, Wes was there to help with the chores.  He loved Jane's cooking and the fack they were an older loving couple. My son  had found yet another mentor. 

      Life went on as usual until, Wes, didn't call on Mother's Day, May 12, 2002.  After two days of not hearing from him  I called his house. Wes's boss answered the phone, saying my son was missing and my youngest son, Casey, was at the police station ,making a missing persons report. The first information I got , was there had been a car accident, the boys (Wes and his friend Cassity) had been seen hitchiking away from the car, that was May 8.

That was the last they had been seen or heard from .
                                                                                                                               Wes, was murdered by two young men, who he had called his friends. I miss my son. I miss the life I once had, beforehe was murdered. Death has away of stealing your life away from you, by creating this site, I hope to keep the memory of my wonderful son alive.

Monday, May 6, I woke with a sharp pain in my head. I thought I was having a stroke, the pain was unbearable. A week later I found out my son was missing. 
A month later, when I returned from Hawaii, I was going through the journal I kept and came across the May 6 entry, the pain in my head the trip to the emergency room. Wes had died on the day, THAT BUG FLEW IN MY EAR

I WISH I COULD TURN BACK THE CLOCK
TO THE DAY THE BUG FLEW IN MY EAR
TO KNOW THEN WHAT I KNOW KNOW NOW
ABOUT THINGS THAT WERE TO HAPPEN THAT YEAR
TO CALL MY SON, TO WISH HIM WELL,
TO HEAR HIS VOICE ONE LAST TIME
TO TELL HIM I LOVED HIM AND WAS SO PROUD
THAT HE WAS A CHILD OF MINE