Alan W. Britton

Alan W. Britton September 23, 1954 – November 20, 2022

Despite relentless physical adversity you resolved to never stop trying; to live, to learn, to love, to enrich everything and everyone around you. You fought through so much, but now it’s your time to rest. Know that you’re now not simply a bright star glimmering in the night sky, you are forever the entire canvas on which all the stars are set upon to light our way.

Growing up you developed a fervent passion for sports, the outdoors, motorcycles and corvettes. At 18, that passion expanded to your wife of 45 years, Joanne. You eventually loved cooking and baking for the family. But we know the only activity that made you smile more than exploring the woods, being on a mountain in the snow or on the water with a fishing rod was watching your grandkids compete in all their games.

Throughout your life you held many jobs. You served as a Marine, an electrical lineman and a fearless entrepreneur who started a trucking company. You loved to share how you helped in building the Magic Kingdom and its Contemporary resort knowing your kids, grandchildren and their children would relish visiting Disney time and again. A place that encourages people to dream, and boy, did you dream of providing your family a life filled with love, compassion and an opportunity greater than what you believed you’d had. You were more than successful in this endeavor, as many have observed the Britton family is closer than most. Our mother has said that she doesn’t care about Thanksgiving because we had Thanksgiving every week, and we remain the proud beneficiaries of the example and devotion you shared with us.

You were smart, persistent, and at times downright stubborn; no Zelda, Final Fantasy or Fallout game ever stood a chance against you. You loved Saturday afternoon Kung Fu Theater and Western cinema, especially if it starred Wayne or Eastwood. We’ll never be able to forget the theme song to Rawhide because you enjoyed it so much. You loved cereal and ice cream, never caring that dairy didn’t quite like you. You loved Elvis and the Moody Blues, The Beach Boys and old country music, and though you would never indulge us and pick your favorite “keler," we’re pretty sure it was blue. And we promise to let you know if they ever actually find treasure on Oak Island, or the aliens from Ancient Aliens.

Growing up you often talked often about living on a farm or ranch, and although that never happened, you developed a real green thumb later in life, excelling in the art of closet hydroponics. You were never ashamed to be a cannabis advocate, as it brought you relief in ways that countless pills never did.

Thank you for being the selfless man that you were. You put forth so much love, and you were loved immensely in return, but you deserved so much more. You were always there for us. You were our rock, our friend, our biggest supporter. You did it all, and you did it without Google maps.

Wherever you are now, we hope you still bust the waitress’s chops, that the Coors Light is cold, the crab legs are never-ending, and the lo-mein is amazing.

Alan is survived by his wife Joanne (nee Pillo) and is the father of Christopher and his significant other Beverly Godoy, Nicole and her husband Ron Homa, Renée and her husband Erik Csontos. He is the proud grandfather of Gabby, R.J. and Sophia. Alan is also survived by his sisters Joanne Britton, Arlene Kane, his brothers Arthur Britton, Larry Zippel, Wayne Britton, his grand-dogs Nala, Lola and grand-cats Belle, Liam and Lilly.

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