Lealand Tim Weeks

If ever there was a man who packed more lives into one than seemed possible, it was Lealand Tim Weeks. On August 16, 2025, surrounded by the love of his family, Tim finished his race after a courageous battle with cancer; but not before leaving behind a trail of stories that could fill volumes.

Tim’s race began on June 13, 1956, in Preston, Idaho, where he was raised in a small farmhouse on a dairy farm with his parents and five siblings. Life on the farm meant early mornings, hard work, and chores that never ended; but it also meant lessons in resilience and grit. At school, Tim quickly earned a reputation as a protector. Being bigger and stronger than most, he often stepped in for classmates who couldn’t stand up for themselves, swinging fists more than once at bullies who needed what he called “an attitude adjustment.” After missing school for a few days, he told friends the doctor said he had “too many muscles for his age.” They teased him about that line for years, but Tim never backed down; he swore the doctor meant it.

A natural athlete, he played both basketball and football in high school, even setting records as a field goal kicker and earning an athletic scholarship. But it was with horses that his lifelong passion truly took hold. Even in his youth, he was already training, racing, and shoeing horses; laying the foundation for what would become one of the defining callings of his life. It was also during these Preston years that he worked as a police officer, joining FBI and DEA raids, chased adrenaline as a rodeo clown, dug in as a miner and farmer, and began carving out the legend of a  horseman who would later be known across the West.

Tim’s entrepreneurial streak took full flight when he sold his horse to a procurement agent for John Wayne; money that helped him build his first home. Later, he would even sell a horse to Toby Keith and train and own a head horse that held the arena record in team roping at the NFR. From those early days forward, his horsemanship and training were nothing short of profound.

In his young adult years, Tim moved to Southern Utah, where his larger-than-life hustle was on full display. At one point or another, he seemed to run half the town: the car dealership, a horse ranch, a dry cleaner, and even a barber shop; where he once cut Willie Nelson’s hair. Whether training horses, selling cars, or running a business, Tim always found a way to succeed. And he always found a way to give back. Every Halloween, he transformed his dealership into an elaborate haunted house, donating the proceeds to KONY’s Coins for Kids Christmas fund. Tim insisted every child on the list got their full set of wishes, especially the one he personally picked from the Angel Tree. His success was never just for himself; it was a tool for generosity. 

In so many ways, he embodied John Dutton from Yellowstone; a man of grit, stubbornness, loyalty, and fierce love for his land and family. The final leg of Tim’s race came as a racing steward, where his reputation as a horseman was unmatched. Even then, he was still farming, still training, still pouring everything he had into the land and the animals he loved. Horses weren’t just a part of Tim’s life; they were woven into his identity, his pride, and his legacy.

At home, Tim was a loving husband to Cessilee, and a devoted father to his sons Clint and Clait, and his daughter Katie. He was also the grandfather continually sneaking treats to the grandkids or making them butterbeer. He was the man who told the stories, cracked the jokes, passed down the lessons, and showed what it looked like to live life wide open. He believed in people when no one else did, and though strangers might sometimes see him as rough around the edges, those who knew him best knew the truth: he was a big-hearted softie and a romantic.

Behind the cowboy exterior was a man who secretly loved Hallmark Christmas movies, Harry Potter marathons, and decorating the house so extravagantly at Christmas that it looked like Santa’s sleigh had tipped over inside. One moment Fox News might be on the TV, and the next he’d be wiping away tears during a sappy scene.

Tim also loved a good prank. From swapping license plate frames at rival dealerships, to herding pheasants back onto the property just so his friends could hunt them again, to his endless supply of jokes (“washy washy” - iykyk), he kept everyone laughing. He was a tease, a storyteller, and a big kid at heart.

At the racetrack, Tim was a winner; but never alone in victory. He made sure everyone was in the photo when his horses won, and more often than not, he shed tears when those he loved, or his horses, faced hard times. He was the proud owner of a three time AQHA South West World Champion mare. He was also a World Champion Chariot Racer. He lived by simple rules: work hard, keep your word, and don’t take yourself too seriously. As he often said, “If you’re not worth your word, you’re not worth shit.”

Tim is survived by his loving wife, Cessilee; his sons, Clinton (Chrystle) and Claiton; his daughter, Katie (Marshall); his nine cherished grandchildren; his siblings Grant (Bernice), Boyd (Betty), and Daryl (Sue); and his in-laws Kay and Diane Carter. He is also survived by a very special friend, John Cooper, who Tim thought the world of. After the loss of his own father, John became a father figure, even calling Tim “his kid.” They spoke almost daily, and their bond endured for decades; a testament to loyalty, love, and shared purpose.

He was preceded in death by his parents, Lealand and Violet Weeks; his siblings Lawrence (Angie, surviving) and Deloroes (Kent) Hobbs.

The family would like to extend a special thanks to Tim’s lifelong friend and doctor, Dr. Beckstead, and his staff, for their extraordinary care and compassion throughout Tim’s life and during his final days. Their kindness will always be remembered with deep gratitude.

A celebration of Tim’s life will be held in September in Preston - details TBD. Friends and family are invited to gather, share stories, and honor a man who lived more in one lifetime than most could in ten. If you have photos, stories, or thoughts to share about Tim, please send them to weeks.kin@gmail.com. Because if there’s one thing he left us all, it’s stories worth telling for a lifetime.