Young Preston Rowan, husband to Lisa Young Rowan; father to Forrest and Sybil; son of Thomas “Doc” and Nannette Stewart Rowan; brother to Woodson, Nan, Margaret and Vivian; cousin, uncle and friend to many, passed away on November 14, 2017 after walking this earth for 57 years. His passing was sudden, but he was doing what he loved the most—riding his bicycle. Visitation will be held from 6:00-8:00p.m. on Friday, November 17 at Callaway-Jones Funeral Home – Bryan. Memorial services will be at 11:00a.m. on Saturday, November 18 at First Baptist Church – College Station.
Preston summarized his life simply, “Born…Trusted Christ…Got Married…Children…Everything Else…” and his simple life was filled with everything he could grasp. Preston was born on June 8, 1960 in Temple, Texas and resided in College Station since 1993. “Everything else” was a life filled with joy, laughter, sorrow, and tears, but always with a smile and recognition that life is good and God is in control. Preston was a child of God whose life rested on the hope that he now enjoys in God’s glory with his father, Doc; nephew, Matthew; and the countless friends and family he touched who were waiting for him there.
Preston graduated from Temple High School in 1978, where he excelled in football, Student Body President and relationships. Preston attended Baylor University and earned a degree in Economics from Hankamer School of Business in 1982. A proud member of Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity and a staunch Bears fan whose hope for Baylor football was unending even during a winless season (The future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades. #Sicem). Preston’s indomitable impression upon his world continued uninterrupted and always with his laughing smile and genuine desire to know who you are. One of his favorite quotes, “What? Me Worry?” by Alfred E. Newman, summed up Preston’s approach to life, after Sybil graduated from high school. His faith in God was strong and his love for his family infinite.
Preston met Lisa in Temple, Texas and they were married on December 26, 1986. Preston would say that Lisa was the love of his life and he proved that to his last day by his deep affection and commitment to her and their marriage of 30 years. On many cool Fall evenings Preston would start a fire in their backyard chimenea and invite Lisa to just sit and enjoy it together or drive his 4-wheeler thousands of miles over rough, South Texas terrain so she could photograph just the right wildflowers in season.
Preston loved riding one of his bicycles almost every day of his life. Not content with ordinary commuter cycling, Preston always challenged himself and anyone fit enough to keep up with him to go a little further, a little steeper or just slow enough to get to know his riding partner better. Preston was a cyclist’s cyclist, ever ready to clip in and go, stop to help change a flat, or enjoy retelling the latest biking adventure wherever the ride that day ended. One of his sayings was, “Fast cyclists make slower ones look better. You’re welcome.” He was indeed fast to greet you warmly when you first clipped into your pedals and to hug you tightly after a long day on the saddle together. He was always ready for the next ride and next relationship. One look into Preston’s eyes and a firm handshake told you that he truly wanted to know you for who you were. He was the best there was.
The Rowans Roost in South Texas was Preston’s home away from home. Purchased in 1970 by his beloved father, Doc, the Roost captivated Preston in a way only some can truly understand. Whether tracking his beloved hunting dogs, Kate and Missy, in search of the next covey of quail; smoking a pork shoulder for 9 hours over mesquite wood from Woodson’s fire pit; capturing the beauty of the Spring wildflowers with Lisa; or just sitting on the back porch watching the spectacular sunsets from his four-wheeler, Preston loved that place he had always known but could never get enough of and his family and numerous friends who were always invited to come, stay and experience a unique sense of peace not easily found. Unless you did something stupid to deserve a dreaded “LT” (Last Trip), like shooting a trophy buck reserved for Doc. The Roost was wild, untamed and fit the adventurer’s side of Preston for 47 years, where he joyfully taught his own son, Forrest, the ways of the land.
Preston was missed from the moment he left us and our hearts will always be filled with his presence. Preston is survived by wife, Lisa; son and daughter-in-law, Forrest Rowan and Ashby; daughter, Sybil; mother, Nannette Stewart Rowan; Siblings, Woodson Rowan (Sherry) of Lubbock, Nan Gunter (John) of Dallas, Margaret Davis (Phil) of Fort Worth, Vivian Norment (Russell) of Fort Worth; and more family and friends than can easily be counted.
Contributions can be made to the Preston Rowan fund at Prosperity Bank.Print This Obituary