RIP Jimmy Boyd

Jimmy Boyd passed away on Thursday, August 6, 2026.

This is a tough one for me. Many of you that have been long-time surveyors in Southern California will likely know or know of Jimmy.

Jimmy provided me with my very first opportunity in surveying. He became my mentor and my friend. What many of you may not know, however, is that he was also my cousin. Many of our family get-togethers, particularly Thanksgiving, were at his and his wife Jackie's home in Redlands. Most of my family grew up around surveying, so our family gatherings were essentially gatherings of surveyors. In fact, Jackie's father Norm was also a surveyor.

What I truly appreciated about Jimmy was how he believed in me, even when I was the NFG and didn't know diddly squat about surveying. I'm trying not to make this a story about me, but it's hard because Jimmy is why I became the surveyor I became. He was always the first to jump into the latest technology, and I was a geek, so it was a good fit to begin with. I can still remember when he bought the Compaq portable computer that was like carrying a large sewing machine around. The keyboard folded down to reveal a small green screen and floppy disk drives. He also had an HP-71 in an environmental case with Super Surveyor installed. There was an HP ThinkJet connected to the Compaq and we could generate cutsheets from the 71 and print them out for the contractor before we left the job site. That always blew them away. And other surveyors had no idea of that capability at the time. I remember going to local association meetings and the other surveyors couldn't believe that Jimmy could do this. Anyway, he bought a full-size Chevy van and a desk at one of the office stores and we built it in an afternoon and bolted it into the truck. I'm convinced we had the first mobile surveyor's office on the planet. Mind you, this is in the mid-1980s.

I remember when we worked on municipal projects for the City of Pomona. We often ate at Der Weinerschnitzel because it was nearby. There was often a homeless veteran there who would repeatedly recite quotes from his experiences in war. Jimmy never hesitated to purchase an extra meal and deliver it to him personally while we ate with him. We got tired of jerks running over our cones and our backsights we'd set right on the pavement. We started making backsights with coffee cans filled with concrete, then painted the targets on the outside. We always had a good laugh when we'd find them hours later after someone hit one. We knew it left a mark. Jimmy got so pissed off at the wreckless drivers one day that he pounded a rebar into the pavement and left it sticking up the height of a cone, then put a cone over it. We later found it bent over, the cone down the street, and a trail of oil. Probably not the right thing to do but damn that was satisfying.

We essentially built Moreno Valley together. I think it was still Sunnymead when we started. We ate regularly at the new In-N-Out there, before the burger patties were reduced to silver dollars. We set records staking curb in those subdivisions, using the fancy Super Surveyor for initial layout, then we used a T-16 and our HP-41CXs to manually turn the angles, pull the distances with a chain, and stab the hubs into the ground. We used an old level to run the elevations and we both calculated the cuts, fills, and elevations in our heads to check each other (I still can't believe how fast we could do the math). We took turns between the instrument and chain. Other surveyors thought we were lying when we told them how many curbs we staked in a single day.

One time we were surveying in the hills, with lots of sagebrush around. Jimmy ran the gun and I was carefully walking around on the other end taking topo shots. I just knew I was going to run into a rattlesnake at some point and Jimmy knew I was scared to death of that happening. At one point, I suddenly heard the dreaded rattle and I jumped out of my skin! Turns out it was just Jimmy making that noise over the walkie-talkie. I was SO pissed off about that.

Eventually, I earned the seniority to delegate the little things to the NFG, like open the gates to get into job sites, flag the nails, etc. There was one time that we were leaving the job and NFG got out to go close and lock the gate. After we drove through, he went back and closed and locked the gate, but there was one problem -- he was still on the inside. He looked up at us and we saw him through the side mirrors. He looked puzzled like he wasn't sure what just happened. Jimmy and I turned and looked at each other and we started laughing. We got to laughing so hard we were crying and could barely breathe. NFG returned to the van and was embarrassed -- I felt bad, but there was no stopping us from laughing. I don't think I've laughed that hard again to this day.

We also essentially built Rancho Santa Margarita. When we started working there, it was nothing. I mean, nothing. That was quite an adventure on an almost daily basis, with Jimmy's office being in Riverside. It was easily 3 hours each way from the office on a good day. I lived in Hemet, so I got up at 3:30am on those mornings in order to get to the office in time so we could get to the job site by 9am. I usually drove there and Jimmy drove home. It gave us a lot of time to talk about work, personal stuff, and crack jokes.

I could tell stories all day long. But at the end of the day, Jimmy became like a father figure to me. He was very giving of his time, his expertise, his friendship and his trust. I climbed the ladder quickly simply because Jimmy trusted me and gave me the freedom to find my way. But the only reason I could pull it off was because he gave me the tools I needed to succeed. He gave me opportunities that I couldn't have gotten anywhere else.

I haven't gotten to see him much in these later years, but our memories have always been a regular occurrence in my life. He's gone in a physical sense, but he'll live on forever in the hearts of everyone that knew and loved him. God bless you, Jimmy.