Vicki J. Clark Shepherd

Family and friends are invited to gather in remembrance of Vicki on Monday, August 10, at Sunset Memorial Chapel. Visitation will be held from 12:30 to 1:30 p.m., with a funeral service beginning at 1:30 p.m. Burial will follow. In lieu of flowers, the family kindly suggests memorial contributions be made to Heinz 57 Pet Rescue & Transport, a meaningful tribute to Vicki's lifelong love and devotion to animals.

Remembering Vicki

If there is one thought that captures Vicki's life, it is simply this: She loved extravagantly. She celebrated enthusiastically.

Those words are more than an inscription on a headstone. They are the story of how she lived.

Vicki believed life's special moments deserved to be celebrated. Christmas wasn't simply Christmas. Birthdays weren't just another day. A grandchild's ballgame wasn't just another game. Whether it was a family gathering, a high school reunion, a Hall of Fame banquet, or finding the perfect gift for someone she loved, Vicki poured herself completely into the experience.

She never did anything halfway. Sometimes her enthusiasm was bigger than people expected. It was also one of the greatest gifts she ever gave.

A Life Well Lived

Vicki J. Clark Shepherd was born on March 11, 1949, in Des Moines, Iowa, to Glen W. Clark and Virginia H. Mason Clark.

She proudly graduated from North High School in 1967, beginning a lifelong relationship with the school she loved. Years after graduation, she devoted countless hours to organizing class reunions and serving on the North High Hall of Fame Committee, helping preserve the school's traditions and celebrate the people who shaped them. In 2025, her dedication came full circle when she was inducted into the North High School Hall of Fame—an honor that brought her tremendous pride.

Vicki met the love of her life, Jerry, while they were both working at Des Moines Stationery. She later spent more than 36 years as a Legal Assistant with Henderson & Sturm LLP, later Sturm & Fix LLP.

Together, Jerry and Vicki built a marriage that lasted 54 years. They were wonderfully different. To everyone else, he was Jerry. To Vicki, he was simply "Jer." Jer was quiet, dependable, and happiest taking care of whatever needed to be done. He was most comfortable in jeans and a T-shirt, always with a pocket on it. Vicki loved shopping, lunches with friends, celebrations, conversations, and surrounding herself with people. She wanted to be dressed perfectly, whether going to dinner or a ball field.

Yet somehow, they fit together. They didn't change one another. They complemented one another.

Family Was Always the Destination

If you asked Vicki what mattered most, the answer was never complicated. Family and friends who became family.

She was the devoted Mother of Jon and Jeff and the proud Mamaw of Michael, Jacob, Nicholas, Alyssa, Carley, and Chase.

Her favorite team was simply whichever team or activity her children or grandchildren happened to be associated with. She rarely missed an opportunity to cheer them on. She also firmly believed sports officials benefited from hearing her perspective from the stands. She didn't simply attend games, she invested herself in them.

For Vicki, the best vacations weren't determined by beaches, mountains, or tourist attractions. They were determined by family. Some of her happiest memories were the trips to Texas and Florida to spend time with Jon, Stacy, Michael, Jacob, and Nicholas. Or traveling throughout the Midwest simply to see Alyssa, Carley, and Chase on the ballfields and basketball courts.

Being together was always the destination.

And every child and grandchild heard the same words over and over throughout their lives: "I love you to the moon and back." Those words became part of her legacy.

Jerry & Vicki

One story captures their marriage better than almost anything else. At nearly every grandchild's event, Jerry carried one chair. Vicki carried an oversized purse that contained enough snacks for every child nearby. And makeup. And lotion. And credit cards. And perfume. And a drink. Jer would quietly scout out the perfect place to sit, set up the chair, and make sure everything was just right. Vicki would already be talking with everyone around her, making new friends, and checking in on existing ones.

When the game ended, Jerry packed up the chair. Vicki was still visiting. That was simply who they were.

Another family favorite came one evening at the Iowa State Fair in their later years. Vicki and another couple happily cruised the fairgrounds on mobility scooters while Jerry calmly walked behind them, keeping pace without the slightest complaint. It perfectly illustrated their marriage. Jerry quietly kept everything moving while Vicki made every outing memorable.

The Things That Made Her...Vicki

Vicki embraced life with unmistakable enthusiasm. She loved oldies music—especially Elvis Presley—and her phone proudly announced every call with Old Time Rock and Roll blaring with flashing lights ensuring everyone nearby knew she had received a call.

She loved to dance. When a song with a good beat came on, she couldn’t help but start snapping her fingers and swaying her shoulders regardless of where she was or what she was doing.

She loved butterflies and surrounded herself with them through artwork, decorations, clothing, and keepsakes.

She loved beautiful jewelry, especially her diamonds.

She created scrapbooks to preserve memories, although she often found herself spending more time talking with the people around her than actually putting pictures on the page.

She had beautiful handwriting.

She somehow always knew exactly the right gift.

Christmas mornings became legendary because of her generosity. The family joked that opening gifts sometimes felt like the event would never end—and nobody minded one bit. Each family member’s pile of presents was uniquely tagged with a different portion of your name—one with your first name, one with your first and middle name, one with a nickname, and so on.

She believed that if someone she loved deserved one gift, they probably deserved two. Or ten.

Vicki embraced every moment with her whole heart.

She Never Met a Stranger

One of Vicki's greatest gifts was her ability to turn acquaintances into lifelong friends.

She became friends with her hairstylist. With the mail carrier at work. With families she met through her kids’ and grandkids’ activities.

One Christmas, the family laughed after realizing a Christmas card displayed in her home had come from the in-laws of one of her granddaughter’s softball coaches. That friendship existed for one simple reason. Vicki invested in people. People mattered to her.

She had a remarkable gift for making people feel remembered and included. It wasn’t unusual for her to randomly ask her sons how someone was doing, often getting a response of, “I have no idea. Who?”

The Stories We'll Always Tell

There are some stories that have become part of family lore. Like the day she enthusiastically rushed into the hospital nursery carrying an armful of presents after her first grandchild was born, eager to meet her granddaughter. Knocking on the nursery window, pleading with the nurses to let her in so she could hold her grandbaby. Everyone on the maternity floor quickly knew she had become a grandma.

Or the time she bent down to hug Alyssa and Carley at a graduation party, only for her oversized purse and boundless enthusiasm to crash everyone to the floor. Right smack dab in the middle of the party.

Or the day she unknowingly wore a pair of pants with a completely split seam to her grandkid’s school only to learn about it later at dinner.

Or after a long hot day of helping Jon move from Houston to San Antonio, not wanting to just order pizza in, but insisting on having a nice sit-down family dinner at…Denny’s, where she confidently ordered the prime rib.

The family laughed. She laughed too...eventually. Those moments weren't embarrassing. They were unforgettable. Because they were unmistakably Vicki.

Her Legacy

People who knew Vicki rarely wondered whether she cared. She made sure they knew. She celebrated birthdays as though they were holidays. She found the perfect gift. She remembered people long after others had lost touch. She gave generously. If you were fortunate enough to be loved by Vicki...you knew it.

Until We Meet Again

When our family thinks of Jerry and Vicki together, one image always comes to mind. Jerry quietly unfolds a lawn chair. Vicki arrives carrying her oversized purse, ready to visit with friends and loudly cheer for the people she loves. It perfectly captured their marriage. Jerry took care of the little details. Vicki filled life with enthusiasm.

Today, after nearly a year apart, our family finds comfort imagining Jer waiting once again…already having found the perfect spot for her chair to spend eternity watching over the family they loved so dearly.