Carnation posthumously honors Lee Amador as 4th of July grand marshal

Amador’s family hopes to use his story to encourage drivers to be more aware of motorcycles on the roads

The Carnation community will posthumously honor longtime resident Lee Amador as one of the grand marshals at this year’s Carnation 4th of July celebration.

Amador died in May after crashing his motorcycle. He leaves behind his partner, Jessica, and a two-year-old daughter.

Lee’s brother, Dan Amador, said the family hopes to use his brother’s story to encourage drivers to be more aware of motorcycles on the road. Lee, he said, was doing what he was supposed to, but wasn’t seen by another driver.

“We really want to push motorcycle awareness. The whole cause of this accident was because he wasn’t seen,” Dan said. “We’re losing too many people on the roads and unfortunately a lot of them are on motorcycles.”

Almost a decade older than his brother, Dan said he remembers the younger Lee following him around growing up. The two brothers bonded over baseball, the outdoors and hunting. When they were older, Dan said his brother would get off work and go straight to the baseball field to watch his son play.

Lee had a unique style of humor and knack for delivering brutal honesty statements in a way that didn’t feel like such a blow, Dan said.

“He would always do things with this quirky grin,” Dan recalled. “He was basically just this giant kid.”

Born as the youngest of four siblings in 1992, Lee was born in Monroe and raised in Carnation. He graduated from Mount Si High School in 2010 and enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps, where he served for four years.

Dan said, his brother returned straight home after his service and settled in North Bend. He was working a variety of jobs and was pursuing a career in law enforcement.

His commitment to service was a theme throughout his life, Dan said. Lee was known for helping people, even if he didn’t have much history with them.

One time, Dan recalled, his brother was helping a friend work on a drain field. When his friend left for vacation, Lee insisted that he kept working on his own until it was finished.

“He would go out of his way to help, even if he didn’t have to,” Dan said. “I think that’s what made Lee so special.”

Lee also had the “weird” tattoo of a fish bone, his brother said. Since his death, many of his friends and loved ones have been getting replicas in his honor, he said.

“If you see someone with a fish-bone tattoo,” he said, “buy them a Rainier and say ‘tell me a story about Lee.’”