From Laurie Foote, Terry Foote’s wife:

 For anyone interested, my daughter posted this today about her father. It's perfect, true, and real. A wonderful tribute to a man who lived life on his own terms, and far better than anything I could have written

 My dad passed away yesterday, on the eve of his 75th birthday.

 All I can say is that I am who I am because of him. Everyone deserves to experience the intensity of pure love and devotion that he gave me my entire life. It is nothing short of a blessing to be loved and treasured like that - to get to be someone's world. He would die for me in a heartbeat, kill for me, and he certainly lived for me.

 He was the bravest, strongest, fiercest person I've ever met.

 He was alarmingly brilliant.

 He battled injustice wherever he saw it with with abandon.

 He was completely mad. He had given up entirely on conforming to demands of the world, caring about appearances. He scorned that nonsense.

 He was difficult and troubled. His time in Vietnam, his time in the Special Forces afterwards, and his pre-existing neuro Atypicality made a "normal" life impossible for him, and made life - for him and for mom and I - often deeply painful. As often as it was joyful.

 I learned about extremes coexisting, about the fundamental instability of the human being, and that underneath it all - at the core - there is a foundation of unchanging, endless love that keeps us.

 He tried and valued trying. He had an energy and force of will that few to none dealing with what he did could hope to have. Even on his deathbed, he continually struggled to sit up, and said "We'll do better tomorrow." He had faith in that. He quoted Maya Angelou: "When we know better, we do better."

 He believed in progress, change, justice, and fighting for all of it with everything you have. He believed in giving 'em hell.

 He always had plans for the future that were delusional, but he believed he would and could do them, and that belief kept his fire lit.

 Every time he saw a stray animal, he tried to rescue it, and ended up saving many dogs and cats. He even took wounded birds in to the vet. When a local shelter was closing and would have to euthanize many kitties, he adopted about 9 of them. He loved animals, and lord knows - he LOVED his kitties. Get him started talking about them, and settle in for a few hours.

 A couple years ago (we're talking when he's 72 and having mobility issues) he got in numerous altercations around Hendersonville, accosting people who parked in handicapped spots but had no sticker. Because they were taking spots from those who needed them, and it was wrong. He was a vigilante like that.

 He was passionately interested in current events and learning. He listened to the BBC religiously and always wanted to discuss the affairs in the world. He never lost interest in learning more, in understanding how the world worked, in dishing out theories of how to fix this mess and implement justice. He was hungry for history. On his deathbed, I read some of the most recent book he assigned me - "Thomas Jefferson and the Tripoli Pirates." He told the nurse, "Because I'm interested!"

 We couldn't have left things on better terms. We knew how we felt about each other. We enjoyed each others company; we had the best conversations. My only regret is the usual one: that I had gotten to see him just a few more times.

 The last time I saw him and he was fairly lucid and feeling okay, he was so happy to see me that he sang when I came in the room. He beamed at me with a look in his eyes I'll never forget.

 "All's well with him;

 no fear for a man that's been struck down

 in his duty to captain and owner.