Captain James Wylam Pierce, 86, of Sun City, Texas, took off on his final mission April 27, 2026, at William R. Courtney Texas State Veterans Home. He was born on January 8, 1940, in Bremerton, Washington

Jim’s legacy is one of living fully—millions of meaningful missions in 86 years that most typical humans wouldn’t have imagined. Brave, but a calculated risk-taker, he knew how to make the most out of any adventure and survive to tell the tales. In Vietnam, he completed 750-plus missions, many at night, as a Forward Air Controller, and took home 13 Silver Stars for heroism and two Distinguished Flying Crosses—in one, one-year tour! His daughters grew up convinced he was Maverick from Top Gun. He really did look uncannily like Tom Cruise—only more handsome. In reality, he was the Air Force version, call sign “Sheriff”: smart, witty, athletic, and full of grit.

Sheriff broke the norms of the era. His life was about missions and adventure, not careers and “bean counting” (that would have killed him 50 years ago), and also one of the reasons he didn’t go into commercial flying after his service. Too repetitive, too predictable. Routine simply didn’t fit him. He’d much prefer travel, tennis, skiing, sailing, waterskiing, hiking, or any activity over the everyday doldrums. So he decided to take on real-world responsibility with creativity: He did a post-military service mission as a construction manager building a luxury condominium and hotel at Vail Ski Resort in Colorado and living the ski dream with his wife, flipping houses in Washington, being an entrepreneur, and ending his career in construction sales and marketing.

Raised near the naval shipyards of Bremerton, he was the eldest of three children, born to his father, Rolla, a carpenter, and his mother, Veva, a nurse. An educated and forward‑thinking woman for her time, Veva was a steady, modern influence in his life. She loved him dearly, recognized his potential, and supported his dream of flight. She helped him get into college, University of Washington, where he majored in construction management, joined Theta Chi fraternity, and graduated 2nd in his ROTC class. She always encouraged him to reach for the stars and, fittingly, he took her as his very first passenger on a flight.

Because of Veva, Jim was deeply respectful of women. Though he wouldn’t call himself this ever as a party-line Republican, he was a proud feminist. As such, he was destined to have two daughters, whom he also loved dearly: Vanessa (“Van”)—the introverted, tomboy, sports addict—and Genevieve (“Vivvi”), the extroverted laugh-out-loud life of the party and the family. He took on the family mission like the loyalist he was—always there for sports events, family road trips, Dutch Babies on the weekends, and helping his daughters dream big, providing every possible opportunity he wasn’t given growing up in a poor family.

He met his California dream girl, Erica (“Ricky”), before his mission to Vietnam, but knew she was the one. Weekly letters and a military R&R of dreams, they married shortly after he returned from Vietnam—his proposal delivered in one of their shared joys, Erica’s Karmann Ghia. They were married for 57 years with an extremely memorable 50-year vow renewal family weekend in Las Vegas. Jim always romanced Erica with jewelry on special occasions (“never give appliances to women on anniversaries,” he said). She was a “chirping bird,” he joked, and though she talked a lot and drove him batty sometimes, he loved her like crazy.

Together, they loved to travel and explore the world. So much so that they retired to San Juan Cosalá, Mexico, for 12 years. While there, three more very important girls came into Jim’s life when he rescued his two beloved street dogs, Frida and Rosa, along with Gato (“Cat”)—a jokingly misnamed but deeply loved orange cat. Jim spent many evenings in his “Captain’s Chair” on the front porch with Erica and his furry companions, enjoying the lake views and a good tequila. In his late 70s, he revisited his artistic side—painting whimsical landscapes of Mexico, hiding Frida, Rosa, and Gato within the scenes to the great delight of his family and friends (these paintings are standout pieces in his girls’ homes).

At 82, Jim made one last grand adventure with Erica, traveling to Turkey and marking a lifetime of exploring more than 50 countries. They both loved flying. Erica worked as a flight attendant for 10 years, and Jim, not a stranger to doing it his way, was a wonderful caregiver for Van, an only child at the time, so Erica could advance her career—a quiet testament to the endless love of his girls and nod to feminism.

After thousands of missions—military service, modeling for a luxury agency where he represented brands like Nordstrom and Eddie Bauer (he was, after all, more handsome than Tom Cruise), a diverse civilian career, and over a decade abroad—he’d say his most proud mission was his family: being there when it counted, loving endlessly, and sacrificing for the benefit of the family at times.

Jim was not perfect. He was diagnosed with PTSD and heart disease due to his time in Vietnam, and he suffered from neuropathy, potentially induced by Agent Orange, in his later years. Though he faced his share of hard times, he taught his girls to live life to the fullest and to embrace—easy or difficult—the magnitude of any mission that becomes an epic story…because that’s a life well lived.

He was preceded in death by his mother, Veva; his father, Rolla; and his beloved companions Frida, Rosa, and Gato, who surely welcomed him with open arms. He is survived by his wife, Erica Pierce; his children, Vanessa Pierce and Genevieve Britton (Bret Britton); his grandchild, Everett Pierce; and his sister, Kathy Menold (Joel Menold).

Forever loved, his girls (Ricky, Van, and Vivvi).

In lieu of flowers, the Pierce family will make a monetary donation to the William R. Courtney Texas State Veterans Home in gratitude for the exceptional care Jim received during his time there, and to help ensure that fellow veterans continue to benefit from its outstanding physical therapy, wellness, and recreational programs. Because this donation must be delivered in person to an on‑site representative, the family plans to bring it directly to the home on July 1. Family and friends who wish to contribute to this effort prior to that date are welcome to do so via Venmo at @Genevieve-Pierce (last four digits of the associated phone number: 0735). 

Alternatively, donations may be made to the American Legion’s Operation Comfort Warriors in Jim’s memory (home post: Post 228, Sun City, Texas), or, as a fitting tribute to his love of the outdoors, a tree may be purchased in his memory through the link provided.