» About Us    The Ride's Story Tom Turner was a devoted motorcycle enthusiast. He enjoyed riding the highways and byways of the Ozark hills. Many of those rides were shared with his good buddy Merlyn Vandervort, respected Lake area developer. Following Tom’s death in 2006, his brothers and sisters approached Vandervort and asked in for his help in organizing an annual event to honor and celebrate Tom’s life. Designed to raise money for cancer research, the event is also orchestrated to be a fun, family activity. The first event held in May of 2007, began when 100 riders, carrying 55 passengers, met at Pecker’s (nightclub) in Lake Ozark for a gourmet breakfast. Following the meal, the riders took off on a 125-mile ride through Camden and Miller counties. The afternoon festivities concluded at the Horny Toad Entertainment Complex, on Horseshoe Bend, with a pig roast, live entertainment and a silent auction. Ride organizers later presented Cathy Dixon of the American Cancer Society for a check of $9,400 to help fund cancer research. The 2008 goal for the annual ride is to meet and exceed the original contribution. Tom was dedicated to finding a cure for this horrific disease. The Turner family and ride organizers are dedicated to continuing his efforts. The Turner family wants to thank Merlyn and Dawn Vandervort for their support and to issue a special thank you to many organizers and community sponsors who spend so much time helping with the event. They also would like to issue a special thank you to all those motorcyclists who join the fun. Tom's Story In slacks, collared shirt, and tie, he was Tom Turner. That’s how a lot of people knew him. But away from work, he was Buster. Most of the men in the Turner family have nicknames: Shorty, Noodle, Cable-Cousin Carl, Sasso... just to name a few.  Those nicknames more accurately conjure images of those people than their birth names. So when you think of Tom, there’s one image, but when you think of Buster... things become a little more interesting. There wasn’t a glaring difference between two: Both were straight-forward, brutally honest and a little cocky. But to truly know Tom, was to know Buster. Tom was funny, but Buster was disturbingly hilarious. If humorous use of profanity were an art, Buster was Picasso. His recollection of any disgusting detail from daily life left his audience in side-cramping laughter and more often than not, a little offended. His best stories were told and re-told and he offered them as if it was the first time the tale ever reached your ears. If you knew Buster long enough, you could tell the story right along with him word-for-word. It didn’t matter. Most of the stories were only partially true. It didn’t matter. You played along because it would be just as funny as the first time you heard it. Anyone who knew Tom wasn’t surprised by his success as a publisher. But those who grew up knowing Buster had other predictions early on. His desire to have a good time left an academic legacy that was easily forgotten at Hickman High School in Columbia, Mo. So he joined the Navy, earning an honorable discharge in 1973. After that, he attended the University of Missouri on the G.I. Bill and earned a degree from Mizzou’s renowned School of Journalism in 1976. Buster loved proving people wrong. So graduating with any degree, let alone a Journalism Degree from MU, did just that. He liked new challenges and when he took them on he did so full throttle. Taking on the task of turning around the struggling Lake Sun Leader in the early 1990’s was something many people would have avoided like a deer on a country road. Not Buster. He saw it as an opportunity to once again prove people wrong and seized it with vigor. Through his successes at the Lake Sun Leader, he built a mini-publishing empire which included: Vacation News, Lake Lifestyles, The News Focus. Boats, Homes, Real Estate, the Columbia (MO) Real Estate magazine and the Westside Star weekly among others. Buster was a fierce competitor. He did not like to lose... ever. Not at work, not away from work. Whether it was rebuilding a newspaper or playing a round of golf, his laser-like focus was almost frightening. But he didn’t allow his desire to compete and win get in the way of enjoying what he was doing. Winning without the fun just wasn’t worth it to him. During his life Buster became engrossed in countless hobbies. So much so that guessing what he’d take up next became a fun game amongst his wife Jan, family and friends.  He played basketball and joined city leagues where, according to his accounts, he was a legend. (By the way, he had an absolutely deadly 15-foot jumper). When Buster took up golf he played it almost constantly. New clubs, new balls, and golf magazines could be found in every room. Then he got hooked on chess, going so far as to reading books on Bobby Fischer and joining a chess club. When Buster returned from the club, it was always entertaining to hear him share stories of the gross social ineptitude the majority of his fellow chess players possessed. Then it was on to pool. How far did this fling go? He bought a pool hall so he could play for free. ‘Nuff said. Motorcycles became his final passion. Buster spent a lot of time and money buying motorcycles, accessories and questionable leather outfits. And in true Buster style, he didn’t just putter around local roads. Buster took long cross-country trips on his bike with friends, his son Jeff, and his brothers. Buster stood up for what he believed in, which at first read sounds cliché. But for Buster, it was a way of life. It meant not backing down, regardless of what others might think of him. But what many didn’t know about was the compassion he had for those close to him. His heart was viewed only through his actions. He didn’t publicly reveal the softer side of his personality, except maybe with his grandsons, Nick and Nathan. And he wasn’t one to brag about the nice deeds he did. He did them quietly, without notice or fanfare. Buster was a man who loved life. Every bit of it. His family, his friends, his work, his hobbies, his stories. Only cancer, which claimed him in July of 2006 at the age of 57, could get in the way of that life. Tom was a special man, but Buster... man, was he special.