Herschel Stanley Bomar, Jr., known to the world simply as Stanley and Stan, passed quietly on December 8 at his home in San Antonio, Texas, leaving behind a life that read less like a résumé and more like a well-worn American novel. He was a son of Bedford County,
Tennessee, raised in the Raus Community, born at Queen City Infirmary in Tullahoma on a cold January morning in 1942, when the world itself seemed to be bracing for an unknown consequence.
Stanley was preceded in death by his beloved wife, Teri; his parents, Herschel Stanley and Virginia Frances Evans Bomar of Raus.
He is survived by his sister, Linda Bomar Yockey; his niece, Catherine Nichole Yockey; his nephew, Joshua Stanley Grant Yockey (Jennifer); and a great-niece, Everly Frances Yockey. While Stanley’s nephew Josh carries forward both his and his grandfather’s name, Stanley’s quiet spirit lives in his great-niece, Everly.
Stanley grew up the way boys do in rural Tennessee, with red dirt on their cuffs, pocketknives worn smooth by constant use, and a confidence born not of arrogance but of freedom and belonging. He graduated from Shelbyville Central High School and earned a degree in political science from Middle Tennessee State University, though his real education had begun much earlier in the farm fields, creeks, and back roads of Bedford County.
In the 1950s and 60s, Stanley and his hunting and fishing companions Burt English, Joe Fly, Henry Hulan, Mickey Ray, Wayne Williams, and Eddie Murray left little of God’s creation unchallenged. They fished every stream that would tolerate them, frog-gigged every pond that dared croak after dark, duck-hunted through weather that would make sensible men reconsider and tracked deer through woods that knew their breaths and footfalls by heart. On Sundays, when their mothers believed them safely tucked into Sunday school, they were often elsewhere entirely, testing both their aim and Providence on the back roads of Raus. It was a time of innocence, when the world felt wide and safe, and boys believed, correctly, that they were watched over by family, faith, and a community that knew exactly whose sons they were.
After college, Stanley stepped into a life few Bedford County boys could have imagined. He accepted an assignment with the United States Treasury Department and became a Special Agent of the United States Secret Service, a calling that required discretion, nerve, and an unspoken willingness to stand between history and harm.
His service placed him in the presence of power without ever seeking it for himself. His first primary assignment was protecting Georgia Governor George Lester Maddox
during Maddox’s 1976 presidential campaign. In the years that followed, Stanley provided security for Presidents Lyndon B. Johnson, Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan, and George H. W. Bush, as well as for Gerald Ford’s son. He also served as the primary protective agent for Lady Bird Johnson and her daughters, Luci and Lynda, a role that demanded both vigilance and humanity.
To protect a president is not merely to guard a person, but to safeguard the continuity of the nation itself. Stanley accepted that burden without question. If called upon to put his life between danger and the office of the President, he would have done so without hesitation, not for glory, but because the duty itself demanded it. He traveled the world in quiet service, living a life threaded with intrigue, discipline, and responsibility, all while remaining, at heart, a Bedford County boy who knew the value of keeping his mouth shut and keeping his word.
Those who knew Stanley knew a man who carried his extraordinary experiences lightly. He did not brag, did not posture, and did not confuse importance with noise. His stories, when offered, arrived like unexpected gifts, measured, dry, often ending with a grin that suggested he
had left out the best part on purpose. He understood that the truest adventures are rarely improved by exaggeration.
A gathering of family, friends, and friends-of-the-family will be held from 2:00 to 5:00 p.m. on December 30 at the Raus Community Center, the old Raus schoolhouse, a place well suited for remembering a man who never forgot where he came from.
Memorials may be made to Ducks Unlimited or the Bomar Cemetery Fund.
The family offers a heartfelt thank you to the Judy Gutierrez family and to Gina Sheftall of San Antonio for their care, loyalty, and kindness to Stanley in his later years. The family also thanks Doak-Howell for assistance in the arrangements.
Stanley Bomar lived a life that bridged quiet Tennessee creeks and the corridors of American power. He stood watch when history moved close to danger, and he did so with the same steady resolve he once brought to a fishing line at dawn. He has gone now, but the stories remain, and they will be told the way all good ones are, by firelight, with laughter, respect, and just enough truth to keep a listener leaning ever more forward.
