Richard N. 'Hazard' Hansard, 68

Richard “Hazard” Hansard, 68, grudgingly succumbed to chronic medical conditions on May 28, 2016, at Kalispell Regional Medical Center.

Hazard was born in Great Falls and raised in central Montana. He joined the Army at age 17 and served honorably for three years. He spent over 19 months in Vietnam and later had to deal with the psychological impact of the horrors he witnessed and the serious impact on his health from exposure to Agent Orange.

Among his many jobs were long-haul trucking, car sales, bouncer and tree farm work, though health issues limited his activities the past decade. He moved to Las Vegas for several years, where he was able to enjoy riding his Harley, with golf clubs and oxygen tank strapped to the bike. After a number of years back in central Montana, he returned to Kalispell two years ago.

Hazard is survived by two children and five grandchildren. His primary support system in recent years has been the waitresses and patrons of family restaurants. Cislo’s in Kalispell was a favorite haunt, where he enjoyed his interactions and flirtations with the waitresses who always kept his coffee cup filled. Fellow Vietnam veteran Neal Miller was dedicated and helpful to Hazard over the past year.

Hazard could be gruff, opinionated and demanding, sometimes making it a challenge for those close to him. He valued honesty in others, and if you gained his trust, he was extremely loyal. He had a wry sense of humor and rascally charm. Few knew the depth of his character and sensitivity, as evidenced by his Western-themed pen and ink drawings and the poem below.

“As She Sees”

Don’t look now, but see that man over there

The one wearing the scars, with the gray in his hair.

They say he walks with a limp because of some distant war

He always watches the door

Don’t get too close he carries the look of death in his eyes

The look doesn’t leave, even when he smiles and tries

I wonder about his past

I just can’t get close enough to ask

I’m told, he sees everything with a single glance

Story has it, he won’t love because he won’t take the chance

What could make a man this way

Maybe, I’ll know some day

I’ll ask, if he would like to dance

Guess not, must have waited too long

He’s already gone

Hazard is indeed gone, but not forgotten.

Cremation has taken place, and he did not want a funeral or memorial service. Those who knew him might like to pause and reflect on Hazard’s vision of heaven — a place where he’d be pain free, with a cup of coffee, friendly waitresses, a supply of smokes, and the chance to speak his mind to God now and then.