Heart of a Champion | Gerald J. Gray

Gerald J. "Jerry" Gray, of Canadian Lakes and Big Rapids, Michigan, passed away September 2, 2026, after a courageous battle with Alzheimer's disease. He was 85.

Born July 27, 1941, in Saginaw, Michigan, Jerry built a life defined by professional excellence, physical resilience, and deep family ties. He earned an associate degree in highway technology from Ferris State University in 1963 and a bachelor's degree in civil engineering from Michigan Technological University. He was one of a select group of professionals licensed in Michigan as both a Professional Engineer and a Professional Surveyor. For a time, he also taught surveying and building construction at Ferris State University.

In 1971 Jerry founded Mid-Michigan Engineering & Survey Co. in Big Rapids, a firm he owned and led for more than five decades. The company provides civil engineering, land surveying, and related structural inspection services across lower Michigan. Although recently sold, the business continues on in his honor, name and legacy, to carry forward the passion he had for his work.

Jerry's competitive spirit and love of sport were lifelong. In the 1980s he coached the Ferris State University racquetball team, served as vice chairman of the American Collegiate Racquetball Association, and helped organize national collegiate championships and Midwest regionals. His teams competed at a high level, including a second-place national finish. He also completed the Chicago Marathon (1989) and New York City Marathon (1990).

In the spirit of adventure, beginning in 1989, Jerry and his family began a tradition of backpacking the mountains of the American West, including Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, and Oregon. His adventures included climbing 14ers in Colorado and ascending Grand Teton with his son Craig. Additionally, he served as a volunteer for the Continental Divide Trail Alliance, helping map the continental divide trail. This backpacking tradition continued for over three decades and is carried on by his family today.

After surviving multiple heart attacks beginning at age 39, Jerry devoted himself to rebuilding his health. When he met Liberty, they made that work a shared mission-one that became a lasting part of his legacy. In 2007 they opened FitnessXT, Michigan's first kettlebell-dedicated gym. With his natural ability to teach, many in his "fitness family" came to know and love him as "Cardiac Conan." He will be remembered for his belief in others and for inspiring people far and wide never to let age or perceived ability stand in the way of their goals.

Jerry competed in Kettlebell Sport into his 80s, setting both U.S. and several World records in the Master's divisions, where he represented the United States internationally, and remained one of the oldest active competitors in the sport until just a few years ago when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease.

Jerry first married Kathleen 'Kathy' (Lee) Gray (later Babbin) with whom he had five children. Since 1999 he has been married to Liberty Gray, who survives him. He was a devoted father to Gerald R. Gray, Craig Gray, Beth Klein, Marci Purcey, and David Gray and a stepfather to Jordan Rohlinger (son of Liberty). He also delighted in his many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. And special mention of the son not by blood, but by choice, David Werschay.

Jerry approached life with determination, humor, and an insistence that it was never too late to improve. He will be remembered as a builder of businesses and of people, a coach, an engineer who left his mark on the Michigan landscape, and a man who refused to let setbacks define him. And, to his students, he wore his huge heart on his sleeve.

He is survived by his wife Liberty; sister Sharon Gray, children Gerald R. Gray and (Jamie), Craig Gray and (Susie), Beth Klein and (David), Marci Purcey and (Tim)], and David and (Kendra) Gray, Jordan Rohlinger and (Molly), David Wershay and (Mollie); numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren; and many friends and colleagues.

He was preceded in death by his parents, Jacob and Dorothy Gray.

Remarks

You are likely here because you knew my dad from being family, a business colleague, teacher, coach, or mentor, or maybe several of those things. Dad was a great man. But what if I told you that the story is probably even better than you might know.

A story of redemption.

What? If I told you that the story of having a successful business, being a world champion, coaching champions, and mentor health for untold numbers of people, also included a redemption arc?

Well, now how much would you pay?

The classic hero arc has three acts:

• ACT I – We introduce our hero.

• ACT II – The hero falls from grace and faces some sort of obstacle.

• ACT III – The hero overcomes the obstacles and rides off into the sunset.

If you were someone Dad coached, mentored, or worked with – you might only think the ACT II challenge was having a bunch of heart attacks, overcoming those, and then going on to become of role model for life changes and healthy living.

But there is even more to that ACT II challenge.

But first a couple stories to set some important context.

Story 1

Dad had taken my grandfather, Craig and I to dinner. On the way home Grandpa was just gnawing on Dad. He couldn’t do anything right. He was driving too fast, he was following too close, what was he even doing with his life? Craig interjects, “Grandpa, what are you even doing?”

“What do you mean?” Grandpa asks.

And Craig says, “You’ve been on him all night. He just took us to dinner, he has a successful business, and has been successful in life, he is 60 years old, a grown ass man. Why are you being so hard on him?”

And Grandpa says, “I’m just trying to make him a better person.”

Story 2

I was talking to Dad once about a Red Wings game that my wife Jamie and I had gone to. Halfway through the story I realize, “Oh, what am I talking about. You lived in Saginaw right down the road from the Joe – you’ve probably been to a Red Wings game lots of times”. And he says, “No. Never.” My Dad didn’t do stuff like that. Hunting and fishing. Sure. But other kinds of “let’s go do a thing together”? Not so much.

BTW – I took Dad to a Red Wings game so he could have a great experience. Unfortunately, the Red Wings didn’t live up to their end of the bargain, losing 10-0. But still, we had a great time connecting.

I share that because it somewhat reflects a difference in generational experience with family. My Dad shared with me that Grandpa wasn’t the kind of guy that showed up at ball games.

Now wind the clock forward to the 1970s.

Dad has started Mid-Michigan Engineering – but starts out moonlighting. That means he’s gone. A lot. Nights and weekend trying to make a thing happen. This is a sacrifice that I think many can identify with – you make a short-term sacrifice to provide for your family in the long run.

But what happened? That sacrifice was a contributing factor leading to a divorce. When a temporary sacrifice turns into an almost permanent absence – something is out of order.

ACT II is starting to come into focus.

Raised by wolves.

After the divorce, initially from a family perspective, it is actually better. We get to hang out with Dad on the weekends and he is fully engaged. We go on hikes. We learn to fish. We camp under the stars.

But then Mom moves us across the state, and Dad attention is elsewhere.

This is the period of time that my siblings and I like to joke to joke that we were “raised by wolves”. Because we went through a season where one parent wasn’t checking in and another parent was checked out.

Unfortunately, it happened during our formative years so that was kind of a big deal.

I had a falling out with my Mom and went to live with Dad for a while before I joined the Air Force. So – we were connected, but somewhat reluctantly.

During this time Dad had a saying that, “Most teenagers survive it”. Which reflected his hands-off approach to parenting.

But if you know me, you know, I was a big-time, “somebody should put some hands on this kid” when I was growing up. I needed guidance but wasn’t getting a bunch. I’ve heard rumors that my brothers and sisters were probably angels. I was trouble.

Let’s fast forward to that first heart attack. Dad is getting divorced again. The business is reeling from the Great Recession. His health is awful. Smoking, overweight. But at least we’re spending time together on the racquetball court. After we played, I had to take him to the hospital where the first heart attack is confirmed. Just as a backstory on how competitive Dad was – he SKUNKED me, but he had a heart attack doing it.

Dad went through that season where he was checked out – but slowly started coming back into our lives. Myself, Craig and David all worked for him. He was our racquetball coach when Marci and I played for Ferris. We would go deer hunting together in the Fall. But still – it seemed like there were gaps.

For example:

• We could talk about deer hunting, but we didn’t talk about our feelings.

• We could talk about racquetball, but we didn’t talk about disappointment.

• We could talk about our challenges with jobs and raising kids, but didn’t say “I love you”.

ACT III

I moved to Montana for work in 1988. On a whim, I invited Dad out for a visit. And much to my surprise, he came. We went up to Glacier Park for some day hikes. He had a great time and wanted to do it again. “Or maybe we could go camping”. He came out again and this time we went backpacking and camping.

Next: “We should invite your brothers.” So, I did and so started our annual tradition of backpacking.

The thing about backpacking is that you spend a LOT of time just thinking. And talking. You connect in a way that maybe wasn’t possible previously.

Things are getting better on the relationship front, and one day Dad says to me, “I was having some problems and decided to talk to someone. It turns out, I was a mess.”

No kidding. A mess you say.

I think that’s when things really starting turning around. The guy that wasn’t checking in was suddenly the guy that was showing up. Even when showing up meant traveling across the country. Even as he continued to coach and mentor others, he wasn’t just working on his kettlebell form or the mental discipline required of competition, he was working on connecting.

That is the ACT III conclusion as the hero rides into the sunset having overcome all the obstacles. He was a coach, a mentor, a successful businessman, a world record holder, but also a person who worked on being connected.

And I will conclude with this:

When people pass, I often contemplate what you can takeaway from their lives. There are lessons here that we can all learn from. Here are four things that we can remember when we think about Dad’s amazing life:

1. Dad lived life to the fullest. We shared a sentiment that life is not a spectator sport. You need to get off the couch and go live it.

2. Keep working on yourself. Dad was never finished polishing and was always working to improve. Not just physically, but mentally as well.

3. All things end badly. Especially if you think this existence is all that there is – if you wind the clock forward far enough, the prince and princess may live happily ever after – but eventually, they, and we, all die. Knowing that all things end badly, even if you’re a great man like my father was, it should remind us to be kind and to give grace when we can. Which is not to say that I have it all figured out – I am, as Ted Lasso said, “A work in prog-mess”.

4. And of course, we should all keep trying to be better people. And if you don’t know how, one of us will probably tell you.

And finally, a mental reframe as we celebrate this life – Dad has not passed - He’s just late to the party (which he would love BTW). It’s just that he has found the perfect mountaintop and the views are amazing.

He’ll be back down to help makes us be better people once he’s done enjoying the view.