Larry Dee Buchanan

Larry Dee Buchanan, 88, passed away on September 10, 2025, after a long battle with Parkinson’s. Flying was a major part of Larry's life, and his ashes will be scattered from an airplane at sunset in the spring of 2026. Murdoch-Linwood Funeral Home & Cremation Service, Cedar Rapids, Iowa, assisted the family.

Larry’s life cannot be summed up in words. Even though he was a man that made words come to life for his clients for many years, his life can only be summed up by the way he made people feel. He always made his family, friends and employees feel special. Made them feel like they could achieve anything they set their minds to. And he helped them along the way with love and appreciation.

This isn’t an ordinary obituary because Larry was not an ordinary man. His life will be remembered by real life stories.

From wife Joni: Larry and I married on September 8, 1983, at the Little Brown Church of the Vale. We both shared a love of St Louis and spent many trips showing each other parts of the city the other didn’t know. When a musician and a dancer come together, there is an abundance of love with the arts. Whether it was Jazz, ballet, musical theater, symphonies, stage plays, Shakespeare, a Scottish tattoo at Edinburgh castle, and even a Japanese opera, we were game for it all.

Larry found everything fascinating. It wasn’t surprising that all of our vacations coincidentally had an airplane museum in the vicinity or the nearest FedEx office to mail copy to the office to keep projects moving forward. He enjoyed finding the origin of the Buchanan clan in Loch Lomond, Scotland, and writing the history of the clan. He enjoyed Viking River cruises (although I ensured success with starting with the Beaches of Normandy tour), sailing with his friend Gary Anderson at Lake Rathbun, fishing in the gulf with his high school friend Jim Edwards, the Cardinals and researching the 1904 Saint Louis World Fair.

As a young boy living in Lincoln, NE, his family lived near an air base, and he had fond memories of military planes flying overhead. This fueled his interest in everything WW2. His family moved to Danville, IL during elementary school before moving to Denton, TX. Larry graduated from Denton High School. He couldn’t believe how his classmates welcomed a Yankee to their fold. His classmates meant a lot to him and he enjoyed lunch get-togethers every time change until his health no longer made travel possible.

He served in the Marines and was a lance corporal E3 when he was discharged. He was extremely proud of the fact that he did not get a tattoo.

Larry loved every moment flying and kept learning and advancing his certificates. Any opportunity to fly, he took. He flew many groups to hunting and fishing trips, did side jobs of flying people to meetings, and even flying bank checks to Chicago three nights a week. When he could no longer fly commercial planes, he found a loophole and flew ultralights. Much to our son’s chagrin, he buzzed a Boy Scout meeting. His ultralight is now ‘flying’ over the Flying Wienie Grill in Cedar Rapids.

For Larry’s 50th birthday, I surprised him with a flight on the Concorde to London, an overnight train trip to Edinburgh then to Glasgow and the Buchanan Castle. Our birthday cruise finished with sailing from Liverpool to New York on the QE2.

Larry was a music major until a car accident forced a career change. He then focused on a journalism major and would often attend classes in the tuxedo he wore from his music gig the night before. He graduated from North Texas State. He moved to Iowa to attend the Writers Workshop in Iowa City, but life had other ideas. He worked for Collins Radio while raising his daughter and made two friends who would change his life - Pete Langmack and Stan Priske. Together they started Three Arts Advertising in 1964.

From daughter Lauri: Some of the best memories I have of my childhood are the moments I spent with Dad. From Looney Tunes and Laurel & Hardy on Saturday mornings, to go-cart driving with A&W afterwards, to hearing him read my favorite books like Ferdinand the Bull and Ramona the Pest, to the museum and landmark trips. I was so lucky to be his little girl. I just wanted to spend time with him so for years I pretended to love flying so he would take me with him. I think he figured out it wasn't really my favorite thing when I never failed to get sick. I remember one night when he had to wash my hair, I was small enough to fit on the kitchen counter and lay on my back with my hair in the sink, I decided to tell him about my bully. I was a scrawny, nerdy 4-eyed little thing then, so I was a pretty easy target. He told me to tell him something funny about her. I decided the way she talked was funny, so I imitated her, and we both howled as Dad imitated her too. Dad had a word with my bully the next day at school and just fixed everything. I had my own Superman! He had sweet nick names for me. From the age of 3 I talked to him about how I loved horses and wanted a horse, so he called me "Charlie Horse", which evolved into "Charles". At the age of six, I expressed my love for donkeys, and he started calling me "Lee-Yore" and doubled over laughing when my six year old self-called him Dee-ad in return. He came through with a horse of my own, but not before he took me to riding lessons for a couple of years. My last lesson, the teacher had me standing, arms out, on the ass of a pony running in circles on her lead. My teacher turned to my Dad and said, "Larry, there's really nothing left to teach your daughter. She's ready now." In his plane, Dad would buzz the stables - waving the wings - as I rode below waving up at him. Such a thrill. Dad told funny stories like the time he accidentally left his recording device running on the floor by the back seat of his car as he was driving through heavy traffic. Let's just say he found the content on that tape ... eye-opening and informative. I loved his stories from high school about how kind everyone was. If a student was in a wheelchair or had difficulty negotiating steps, several students would help bring them to the lunch table so they would not have to eat alone. I'm so proud of Dad. He worked himself through college playing bass fiddle for a jazz band. I have that base fiddle on my wall now. He also bucked the system by insisting the band's black singer be allowed to have her meal in the same dining area as himself - in Denton, Texas - in the 50's! He came to every one of my horse shows. He came to every one of my theater performances. He welcomed my new husband with warmth and great conversation, and beamed with pride at his grandson, our son William Buchanan Cook.

From son-in-law Scott: Most people who knew him would probably agree that to come away from a conversation with him left you feeling a little smarter and a little dumber than before. Whatever the topic he had at least a working knowledge of it, and usually a fair bit more than that. Whether it was aviation, old movies, the advertising business, or any random subject you might come up with, he had useful information to impart, and he did it without condescension or the need to make the listener feel small or inferior. He not only possessed knowledge on many topics but was happy to absorb it from whomever he was speaking with and was always willing to say the words "I don't know".

From grandson Will: Every summer for 16 years, I spent a week with Gramps and Joni. We called it Gramp Camp. We made a different t-shirt each year with a theme. 2011: ‘Where there's a Will, There's a Way’; 2012: ‘Where all your smiles take place’; 2013, ‘Angry Birds’. We had such so much fun playing mini golf and going to arcades. We visited the museum of the Department of Corrections and the photo from there of me behind bars was the background on my first laptop. At the end of Gramp Camp we would stay at a hotel with a water park. I have so many happy memories of him.

From his son Jason: Thinking about Dad, thinking about reminiscences of him when he was the best of himself, has been hard. It's like understanding a whole family by looking at just a few pictures in the family album. Here are the photos that have been in my mind.

Dad would always edit my papers for school. From elementary school to college, he was an editor. He approached my work as an editor, which was sometimes not what I wanted but what he knew I needed. It was only later in life that I realized that he was doing this not only for me, but also as a connection to me. He was not just an editor of my writing but a reader of my writing. He was interested in my papers, especially when I was in college. He was a champion of "being interested."

He would always tell me: "I'm your biggest fan." Now, I get it. Fan is short for fanatic, but Dad didn't mean it that way. More as a constant stream of support, of happiness when you achieve something. He was just so proud and glad you did it--whatever the "it" was--because you did it. He didn't need to congratulate me when I accomplished something because, really, he was already there--he was always there--as my fan. I think he was that way with a lot of people and not just me. He never just liked anyone. If they were special to him, he was always their fan.

I have been to a lot of places. Never would have gone there without his influence. Whether it was drinking in an English pub with him when I was sixteen--sorry, Mom--or walking through a Peruvian ruin, the joy of seeing what was "over there" was infectious. So many parts of this globe have been touched by his memory of being there with me.

He just enjoyed life so much! From good people to good food to good drink to good movies, if it was there to be enjoyed, he did it. Dad taught us to take these moments and hold them tight. They go. They go fast. But one more drink, one more hour of conversation, one more movie can make them last! He was always about making the things that matter in life last.

From his daughter-in-law, Melanie: Larry was the best dinner date, always something to say, always willing to listen, always willing to have another cocktail to keep the conversation going. He was also willing to go to a crazy restaurant and try crazy food. He would always tell Jason and me that we were his heroes, but he was the hero in our eyes.

From his sister, Charlotte: Even though Larry was in college, he would pick me up from kindergarten to take me to lunch to make me feel special. This continued into my adulthood, always supporting my school, my friends, my marriage, my children, even my grandchildren. Even though he lived in Iowa and I lived in Texas, he made all of my children’s graduations, weddings, special times. I was very blessed to have him as my big brother.

From his brother, John: In our early lives, he was my older brother encouraging my growth and teaching useful things. He taught me how to whistle exceptionally loud. He taught me how to use a stick shift. He taught me to read aviation maps and to maneuver navigation tools charting the many flights we took together during his early piloting years. He encouraged my foray into photography using some of my darkroom work in articles he authored for the university newspaper. We researched and bought the same 35mm camera we carried with us for years. He invited me to spend the summer with his family in Cedar Rapids and attend classes at the University of Iowa. I took him up on it and ended up graduating from there 12 months later. As proud as he was being a Marine, he was equally proud of my receiving my Army commission.

As we got older, we became the best of buddies. While we agreed on most issues, we always agreed on what was funny. Phone conversations always lasted longer than they should as we both liked to make the other laugh. We were also competitive but in a friendly way like who could stay underwater the longest. Larry was my best man and my best bud. I’ll miss just calling him and catching up, getting his advice and counsel, solicited or not.

From his staff: Larry was more like a father, teaching us the intelligence of marketing, how to do great creative work both visually and through great writing. He also taught us how to treat co-workers with respect and treat clients as your friends. His passion for life and enjoying it while working hard set me on a path for my career. He loved writing and creating award winning campaigns for our clients. He was the heart and soul of Three Arts.

Spending seven hours in the car with Larry nearly every week to visit our biggest client gave me the opportunity to learn so much about his life. He lied about his age so he could play in a band to help pay his way through college. He travelled through Europe on a Vespa with his brother for two months after college, many stories can’t be shared. During client meetings he inspired them to do more, and we always came home with more work because of his ideas. We’d get in the car to come home, and I would be so pumped and he would say ‘Well now we have to figure out how the hell we’re going to get all of this done!’ We always did and it was a blast! I grew so much professionally and personally because of him.

Larry was not only a great boss, but he was a dear friend. He always cared about us and our families. There wasn’t a Monday morning that went by that he wouldn’t ask about my family. He always wanted the best for people and wanted to help you reach your best. ‘Luck to ya pal’ was one of the favorite things he would say to me, and it still puts a smile on my face.

From his clients: Larry was always thinking about what’s best for us, what’s going to get the most results. He knew our audiences way better than probably we did. He was a true friend, and I respected how he treated folks—myself and others around him.

Larry was an extremely kind mentor early in my career. He would always provide encouraging commentary when we had our weekly meetings when I had questions, comments, or any ideas – it was always ‘Great Idea! Good Thought! Or YES!!!’ – even though my ideas may not have always been so great. He was a memory-maker. The experiences that I and many others had the opportunity to participate in (which we probably would never have – or will experience again) because of his vision - our sales meeting venues, themes, scripting, speakers, production – all amazing.

Back at home, Larry was a great supporter of the arts and served as the Cedar Rapids Symphony board president for two years. He was also an advocate for others in the advertising business, serving on the AdFed board for several years, one as President. As a former pilot, he also enjoyed being involved in the Quiet Birdmen Club.

He is survived by his wife of 42 years Joni, daughter Lauri (Scott) Cook; son Jason (Melanie) Buchanan; grandchildren William Cook, Declan and Nuala Buchanan; brother John (Ellen) Buchanan; sister Charlotte (Don) Beebe; mother-in-law Marjorie (Gary) McGlasson; sisters-in-law Bonnie (Jeff) Balko, Nancy (Jim) Unruh, and Melanie Dhabalt plus several nieces and nephews and great nieces and nephews.

We lost a true Renaissance Man in Larry. And as he loved to say, ‘Luck to ya pal’.