Lee Cheshire Leslie Jr. took off on his last flight from Corvallis, Montana, to the heavens on October 23, 2026. His pilot’s motto was “fly the plane first, last and always,” and we know he was captain of his ship until the end. Lee died of complications from kidney and liver disease. He was 88.
Born in Philadelphia on Sept. 16, 1938, where his father was stationed in the Navy, Lee grew up mostly around Portland, Ore., Silverton, Ore., Molalla, Ore., and Vancouver, Wash. Housing was often rustic without the amenities of running water, that is, no flushing toilets. These are the places Lee liked best, especially Elk Prairie: a vast wooded playground for six kids, the lure of logging for Dad—Lee Cheshire Sr.—and an endless source of frustration and hardship for his mother, Helen Irene. It’s just one of the places where Lee and his late brother Jerry Graham Leslie earned their nicknames now cemented in family lore: “Get Wood.”
Like his father before him and his brothers after him, Lee enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1955 and served as Quartermaster General on the USS Locator, which during the Cold War was a radar picket ship. He earned a Good Conduct Medal and was honorably discharged in 1961 after a stint in the Reserves. He had completed his GED by this time.
Lee is survived by his wife of 25 years, Leah Beth Ward; daughter Paula Leslie of Missoula; and son Jeffrey Loren Leslie of Ridgefield, Wash. Another son, Lee C. Leslie III, preceded him in death. The mother of his three children is Rollene K. Leslie. Other survivors include granddaughters Jena Klement (Tyler), Danica Leslie, and Cruz Leslie; grandsons Kincaid Fiscus and Deegan Leslie; and great-grandsons Wes and Waylon Klement.
Lee was the oldest of six siblings. Jade Leslie Ward, the only surviving sibling, often called Lee the best big brother a girl could have. He even built her a bicycle when they were just kids.
A memorial service will be held sometime in the summer of 2027 in the Vancouver, Wash., area.
After 10 years flying big jets for Evergreen International, Lee turned 60 and, as he put it, was “fired”: pilots then couldn’t fly beyond that age. He used his 401(k) to buy a 160-acre hay and wheat farm in Centerville, Klickitat County, in eastern Washington. From the ridge above the farm, one could see the Columbia River. The surrounding landscape, with brown hills, near-constant winds and scabby geography, displayed what William Butler Yeats might have called a “terrible beauty.”
We will save the many stories from Lee’s flying career for a future celebration, but suffice to say he flew with skill, bravery and, dare we say, a bit of defiance. “Gear up, flaps up, shut up.”
