The nickname symbolized his personal strength and composure, and his steadfast calm in the wildest storms.

He lived his life by a personal code of honor, compassion and commitment that is rarely seen in these modern times, when nations may be ruled by used-car salesmen and almost nothing can be trusted at face value.

He was an officer in the U.S. Air Force for eighteen years, and so he and his family quickly got used to being at home on the road. Through their years of constantly moving from one place to another, Rock developed an amazing ability to form bonds with people almost instantly upon meeting them, and steadfastly maintained those bonds throughout his life. When his wife sent out e-mail notifications of his passing and funeral arrangements to family and friends, I was staggered by how many people she was notifying---the list of recipients was nearly three times the length of the message itself.

Rock was a lifelong member and leader of the Boy Scouts of America, and his life exemplified the time-tested values of trust, honesty and selflessness taught therein. His many awards within that organization included top level membership in Scouting's elite body, the Order of the Arrow, and the Silver Beaver, Scouting's lifetime achievement award. The Silver Beaver is awarded only to those who have devoted 50 years or more to the Scouting life. This honor was doubled for Rock during his presentation ceremony, when Dr. Milton LeRoy Knutson, Rock's father and a recipient himself, removed his own Silver Beaver and placed it around Rock's neck.

Rock was never one to blow his own horn, and very rarely spoke of what he did during his life. Indeed, I am only now learning about some of the things he did in the time before his sons were born. Once, I am told, while assisting rescue efforts during a huge flood in the Midwest, he risked his own life to save a family from drowning when the rising waters trapped them in their own house.

His compassion for his fellow man knew almost no bounds, and was certainly not limited to friends and family. Several of the people on the above-mentioned e-mail list are there because they were once strangers who had fallen on hard times, and Rock, upon hearing of their troubles, literally took them under his wing and into his home until they were able to get themselves back on track. Two such "strays" were a young woman in college who had been rendered homeless by a romance gone sour, and a young man in high school who had been unceremoniously dumped by his parents and was literally living out of a pair of trash bags. The young lady moved on to become the wife of a well-heeled doctor, and the young man and his wife of eight years are now living happily in Denver.

Rock Knutson was the kind of man I once heard described as "The Invisible Warrior": one who is unseen by the world at large, but whose deeds affect many lives long after his own passing.

I can personally attest that he fit this description to the letter.

Rock Knutson was my father.