Sgt. Wendall Woodrow Armstrong Jr., Ret. Lbpd

Our dad, Wendall Woodrow Armstrong Jr., was born in 1938 in Phillips, Texas to Wendall Woodrow Armstrong, Sr. and Nettie Blankenship Armstrong.  He stepped into eternity with his Savior on June 20th, 2025.

His family had a legacy of faith, and they were hard working people. They came to California in the 1950’s and settled in the Belmont Shore part of Long Beach. They regularly attended First Baptist Church of Long Beach located at 10th and Pine Av. Dad went to Wilson High School and it was there, he met our mom, Carleen Booth. After high school, Dad attended Long Beach City College and served in the Army. During one of his deployments he went to Germany where he served as a warhead rocket specialist.  Upon returning to the US in 1963, he became a Long Beach Police Officer and mom and dad were married in July of that year.

Dad loved our mom, fiercely. The way he supported, defended, and cherished her was something rare and beautiful. He wasn’t showy about it.. You just knew by the way he looked at her, the way he stood beside her, and that theirs was a love built to last. He always agreed with her, -even if he didn’t. He listened to all of her crazy stories and only rarely would blurt, “Carleen!”, which meant that her story was over. Later in life they had amazing years traveling, taking cruises and camping with the Cop-Outs and the Retired Police and Firefighters in motorhomes. For their 50th anniversary, they took all of us on an Alaskan cruise. At a dinner show the MC said there was a special anniversary in the house. Mom shouted. “50 years!!” so loud it caused him and all of us to have a laughing fit. Losing him is devastating for her and your ongoing prayers are always appreciated.

Dad was a source of love, strength, and peace in all our lives. In our family or at the police department, he could be counted on to be our rock and our superhero. He was everything we could have hoped for—steady, kind, full of wisdom and humor. He was our guide, our teacher, and always quietly cheering us on. He made us feel safe, loved, and important. Whether it was during camping, Indian Guides, Camp Fire, river trips, working on cars or shooting BB guns in the backyard, he was always there for us, always supporting us. He loved his parents, and we had a wonderful tradition of lunches after church with them (Phillips Chicken Pies) until they passed away in the 80s. Summers and holidays spent with dad’s sister, Linda, and her family up in Santa Ynez are some of our favorite times. Linda, Rich, Jeff, Susan and their families are a part of who he is and he loved them very much.

Dad was a man who loved well and lived generously. As a follower of Christ, his faith shaped every part of who he was. He didn’t just believe in loving others—he lived it out. Whether you needed a home addition, work on a car, a small repair or a meal, he was there for you. He had a great group of friends who would work and play together.  From early days at First Baptist Church of Long Beach to later days at First Baptist Church of Lakewood (Arbor Road), where he served as a deacon, a greeter, or just enjoying his Sunday School class. While work hours and health kept him from attending for many of the later years, he loved live streaming Arbor Road each week until he passed.

For 37 years, he served with the Long Beach Police Department. It wasn’t just a job to him—it was a calling. He carried a badge, but he also carried compassion, fairness, and a sense of duty that never wavered. He was always kind, always smiling. He believed in protecting people, in doing what was right, and he did it with quiet strength and humility. He served the community in patrol, juvenile (for a short time), as a detective in the intelligence unit, then promoting to Sergeant and working in the police communications dispatch center, then as a Sergeant in the special event planning unit.  That was where he served as city organizer for public safety for the 1984 Olympics in Long Beach. Then in 1985 he became a Motor Sergeant for 15 years. Dad really enjoyed riding the motorcycle. Dad also served on the Motor Patrol board of governors and one year as the Motor Patrol President. During his time as a motor Sergeant, he worked with a great crew that he greatly admired. And one of those was Brian, his son! For a time he was Brian’s Sergeant and Brian worked hard to not have his father discipline him on the job. They worked together on the same shift for 3 years before he retired in February of 2000.

His LBPD legacy lived strong in Brian, who followed in his footsteps, and Jacob, his grandson who is now a LBPD motor officer and motor patrol president. This makes three generations of LBPD motors. The Motor Patrol has always been close to his heart and he loved all the guys there like family. He proudly wore his police “motor” ring on one hand and his wedding ring on the other to the very end.

At home, he was just as much a hero. He was a mechanic and craftsman—he could fix or build just about anything. His "magical-mystery garage" was a wonderland of tools, parts, and gadgets. If you ever mentioned a project, or a broken thing, or need for something, he’d quietly walk into the garage and pull out exactly what you needed. Give him an engine, a leaky faucet, or a pile of what looked like junk, and he was in his happy place. But even more than that, he loved sharing those moments—teaching us, laughing with us. He showed us that love can look like turning a wrench together under the hood of a car also. He taught both Brenda and Brian a love for old cars and that became a family legacy as well. He bought Brian an old 1949 Chevrolet truck when he was twelve years old, so they could work on it together and be ready to roll when Brian was 16. He also traded a gun for Brenda’s first car, a bright yellow Honda Civic.

He loved us so well, and that was extended to our spouses, Geoff and Kristen. He had a special relationship with each of them and loved them as his own. He was the very best grandpa, or “Papa”, our kids could have had. He was also the nail trimmer for all of them. He taught us things like, “Only give the kids as much water in a cup as you want in the carpet”, and other words of wisdom. Jacob, Mitchell, McKayla, and Sarah were his joy since 1994. He made breakfast and took Brian & Kristen’s kids to school for years. They had special times living next door. Always, quietly teaching and cheering them all on, working on cars, going to the river and dirt bike riding. He loved watching all four of them swim and play in their pool on warm days.

He was so proud of McKayla becoming a lead 911 dispatcher, and Mitchell becoming a commercial pilot. He tracked all the grandkids on his phone so he could see where they were. “Where in the world is Mitchell?” was a fun game as he flew all over the US. He loved and welcomed in Sarah’s husband Daniel and was always eager to ask them about jobs and travel. He had a special relationship with Daniel’s dad, Dan, and they called each other “brother” stemming from their parallel Army careers.  Jacob’s wife, Jessica, was always a part of the family and so loved. Of course, nothing brought more joy than their two girls, Audrey and Morgan, making dad a GREAT grandpa. The girls called him G-Pop and he loved it. We know that he was heart-broken to not get to meet baby girl #3 due this fall or even the future great-grandkids.

Although Parkinson’s and cancer ravaged his body, he was alert and with us until the last day, often giving us instructions with a mighty finger. That finger solved problems, gave gifts and shared love right up until it could no longer move.  To say we’ll miss him doesn’t even come close. There’s a hole in our hearts that no one else can fill. But there’s also deep, abiding gratitude—for every moment we had with him, for every lesson he taught us, for every way he made our lives better just by being in them.

Dad, thank you. Thank you for your love, your strength, and your faith. Thank you for being our real-life superhero. We will always miss you and think of you daily. We love you!