The Butler man who died in a boating accident Tuesday, June 30, on Lake Erie was only supposed to be there Monday. But he stayed an extra day to take children who beat cancer on a fishing trip, his children said.

David V. “Bullwinkle” Rodgers Sr., died when a boat he was fishing on capsized on Lake Erie. He and his friends enjoyed taking children who beat cancer on fishing trips to the lake. They were meant to take a one-day fishing trip that Monday. However, it was extended another day so they could take more cancer survivors on Tuesday.

“That was one of the things dad loved,” said Zack Rodgers, 31, one of David’s sons. “They would take kids from the hospital that had cancer — survived cancer — he would take them out fishing, and he enjoyed it. He always had a smile on his face.”

The family hasn’t received a full accident report yet, but they knew David and his friends were on a boat they weren’t familiar with the day he died. According to others on the boat, the group eventually noticed the boat was taking on water.

The group started by pumping and shoveling out as much water as possible, but the boat was sinking fast. Two of his friends began calling to get the life jackets, so David went to retrieve them inside the cabin.

While he was in there, the boat flipped violently, throwing those on the deck as far as 15 feet, Zack said. The entire incident took place in less than two minutes.

“We’re really waiting on that accident report coming, because we want to know what happened,” Zack said.

Seven agencies were involved in the rescue. It still took about an hour for authorities to retrieve David from the boat. At 63 years old, he had been sober for 26 years, his children said.

“We don’t know if he suffered or not,” said Adam Rodgers, 25, another of David’s sons. “We’re hoping he didn’t.”

Adam said he spoke with his dad over the phone the night before his death about borrowing a car. He said his dad told him, “We’ll take care of it tomorrow when I get home. I love you, buddy.”

Dave frequently told his children and family members that he loved them, his children said. He was ecstatic every time one of his children announced a grandchild was on the way, and he frequently took them to doctor and dentist appointments.

“He loved the gift of life,” Adam said.

“He told me every day, ‘what I would give to be able to call my mom and dad and tell them I love them one more time,” he added.

David’s children all described him as someone who always stopped when he saw a stranger on the side of the road with a broken-down vehicle. He also frequently donated junk vehicles to the Petrolia Volunteer Fire Department to use for practicing extinguishing burning vehicles. Part of it was because he was a “jack-of-all-trades, backwoods mechanic” who loved to barter, but also because there was no such thing as bad blood with him, his children said.

No family member ever went without a place to stay or car to drive. David often refused when a family member tried to pay him back for something.

“If someone can’t defend themselves, you defend them for them,” Adam said his father would tell him.

If he was in a position where he couldn’t defend someone, he promised to care for them after.

His children explained earlier in David’s life, his sister, Carol Rodgers, was paralyzed in a crash when she was about 18 years old. She was the passenger in a vehicle that crashed into a tree during a drag race. The others involved in the crash left the scene before an ambulance arrived for her.

David promised to take her to every appointment afterward and kept that promise for 50 years until his death, his children said.

“He made that promise and stuck to it,” said another of David’s sons, Timothy Rodgers, 34.

David was also no stranger to injury and had broken his back twice. The first time was in the late 1980s when he fell about 17 feet from a backhoe that malfunctioned while working a landscaping job. The second was in a lawnmower accident in the early 2000s. After, he called his daughter Torie Rodgers, now 37.

“He goes, ‘don’t freak out. I’ve been in an accident. The tractor is on top of me ... but I’m OK, and the ambulance is on its way.’”

Torie added he still wanted to go back to his normal routine despite his injuries. His children said David was always calm in an emergency.

Despite having at least nine kids ranging from 20 to 48 years old, David managed to create unique memories and experiences with each of them, his children said. A favorite activity he shared with each of them was hunting — with varying levels of success.

Adam said he was 16 when he remembers hearing his dad say he was proud of him. They were hunting with a crossbow, and Adam said he saw a stump move about 45 yards out. It took about 10 minutes for Adam to calm down enough to take the shot, he said. When they knew he killed it, his dad hugged him and told him how proud he was.

Adam said the deer must have weighed around 200 pounds, because it took four people to pull it out of the woods. His dad told him he didn’t think he realized what he’d shot.

“You don’t shoot for the horns, you shoot for the meat,” David would tell Adam. “And if you shoot it, you use it.”

Zack also shot a deer while hunting with his dad on his aunt and uncle’s property, but he wasn’t able to find it. He wouldn’t find out until about five months later when his uncle found its remains.

Torie went hunting with him and was teased about falling asleep.

David was buried in St. Wendelin Cemetery after his funeral Tuesday, July 7. He graduated St. Wendelin Catholic School in eighth grade, then went to work on the family’s farm. He wanted to be buried beside his mother and father, but the family settled for “shouting distance,” they said.

There were two days of viewings where more than 200 people, many from out of state, came to see him off.

“Each time was packed pretty well. A lot of people came and went,” Zack said.

About 70 people attended the funeral. Adam said it took him three days to write a eulogy because he has enough material to write an entire book series.

At the burial, David’s family practiced the tradition of taking turns shoveling dirt onto his casket. The family joked David wasn’t even in the ground yet and was still making them work.

This year, before David died, Zack started monthly family dinners every third Sunday like they had at grandma’s house as kids. David would call each of his kids and tell them not to forget about it.

“Dad loved the new dinners we were doing,” Zack said.