Jeffrey Greenwell

Jeffery Greenwell lived his life exceeding expectations and avoiding doctor appointments. He spent his last days on the farm in Milburn leaving us behind on August 17, 2025.

He was born to Galen and Barbara Ricketts on a military base in Tacoma, Washington on July 23, 1956. He spent the majority of his childhood with his grandparents, Homer and Mary Dyson Greenwell, in Hooper, Utah. His free-range childhood included playing in the slough, roaming the bird refuges, hauling hay, and trapping fur. The feral nature of his childhood likely contributed to his stellar immune system and resiliency. He was an Eagle Scout and spent a summer on staff at Camp Loll in Wyoming working as a merit badge counselor. He earned enough money from trapping to buy his first brand new truck while still in high school and the stories he tells of his high school buddies, their mischief and mayhem, are both heartwarming and harmless (though he may have been voted least likely to become a cop by his classmates.) It was the era of driving muscle cars and he owned a few. He earned extra money to keep the cars running hunting coyotes for Deseret Land and Livestock. Friday nights included cruising Washington Boulevard, Brigham City, and Stinky Springs, sometimes till sunrise. After graduating from Roy High School he spent the rest of his life learning and working. His first job was a work release program at Hill Air Force Base where he received multiple awards for outstanding service. Employers included Gold Cross Ambulance, University of Utah Hospital Emergency Department, AirMed, Young Electric Sign Company, Signetics, Orem City, Mt.

Pleasant City, and Sanpete County Sheriff’s Office. (He tried on retirement for about 4 months but it didn’t fit.) A good portion of his law enforcement career was spent keeping kids safe and putting people in jail. His favorite partner for five years was a 100-pound german shepherd named Tritan. If he was responding to an incident that included a teen, he always asked the kid, “Do you want to get your folks on the phone, or should I call them?” Later he treasured his role as probation officer, helping people stay out of jail, offering support, and teaching them to find satisfaction in their own lives.He successfully reduced recidivism with his no-bullshit attitude and a heart full of compassion. With the support of the county attorney’s office and a few stellar judges, he built a probation and pretrial program other counties clamored to follow.

Jeff enjoyed the years he spent riding Harleys with his public service buddies and all the wives. There were no white socks and tennis shoes in this bunch, and the camaraderie, loyalty, and leathers lasted a lifetime. Those bikers looked rough traveling together through small towns with fathers hollering at their daughters to get inside and lock the door. Laughable since they were a bunch of cops, highway patrol, firemen, and paramedics—definitely heroes in disguise.

His favorite holiday was any bird hunting season. The opening day of duck season was full of rituals and memories and usually ended with a bruised and swollen jaw. He would hunt big game to placate his wife, fill the freezer, and spend time with the family. He taught his kids how to fish, hunt, respect wildlife, and treasure time spent outdoors. He kept the old boats, trucks, tractors, backhoe, bulldozer, snowmobiles and ATV’s running smoothly. He could fix anything that broke and could weld like an artist. He was dedicated to balancing the priorities of the farm between grazing and crop production and maintaining a healthy habitat for wildlife. The last crop of hay he stubbornly completed with a fractured spine, too busy and stubborn to see a doctor.