“You’re not going to believe this shit!”

That’s how Jeff West, of Bowling Green, began many of his conversations filled with colorful details about his bustling workdays, intriguing life experiences, and the eclectic cast of characters he encountered, including many felons, strippers, prostitutes, and countless police officers.

Jeff, 69, died, surrounded by his family and friends, August 20, 2026 after a long, relentless battle with cancer he knew he wouldn’t win. Yet true to his resilient nature, he refused to go down without a fight. This courageous struggle gave him precious time to witness the birth of his first grandchild and cherish daily conversations with his two beloved daughters Savannah Johnson and Ashley Wessling, who were the true loves of his life.

Jeff was born in Nashville, Tenn. where he lived most of his life except for a couple of brief childhood adventures, the first in Zaragoza, Spain, and the second in Savannah, Georgia where he picked up his thick southern drawl. Returning to Nashville as a spirited child, he grew up proudly running the streets of East Nashville, skillfully dodging the Metro Police juvenile officers often chasing him for ditching school or other minor mischief, the most memorable of which was lighting a bottle rocket in a crowded theater resulting in a small accidental fire during the dramatic fire scene of Gone with the Wind. He wasn’t proud of the fire but he was thrilled to escape a juvenile arrest record.

Second only to his family which included his wife Debi, and his two cats Miss Blue and Coltrane, Jeff loved East Nashville when it was still “East Nashville” as he put it and not the gentrified version that replaced all of his favorite seedy hangouts with over-priced coffee shops and over-hyped restaurants. He almost felt a tear welling in his eye when he discovered his alma mater, Stratford High School, became a magnet school abandoning the rough-and-ready place it embodied when he graduated in the 1970s. He lettered in football and track as a high school student. He revered his school bus driver, Miss Finley, who was quick with a quip and always had an ash longer than her lit cigarette,dangling from her lip as she picked up and dropped off her young riders.

At only 14 years old, Jeff was operating a jackhammer for the City of Nashville back before OSHA was created. He also spent time on a survey crew responsible for many of the sidewalks in North and East Nashville. His first apartment was an attic space above the home of Grand Ole Opry member Del Wood. He was only 17 but told Wood he was 18 because he needed his own place. He had no idea who she was until he asked her why she was “always banging on that piano.” She wasn’t offended. She was East Nashville like Jeff, and they spoke the same language.

One hot afternoon after Jeff finished working on a sidewalk in North Nashville he happened by a job listing for police officers, and much to his surprise was hired and graduated from the Metro Nashville Police Academy in 1980.

He spent eight years in patrol working the same streets he once ran as a child and earned the department’s prestigious Odd Fellow Award as a patrol officer. The department later promoted him to a detective where he worked six years investigating child sexual abuse cases and earned several accolades in that division. He later transferred into Homicide, and on his first day learned he would be sharing a car with the former Youth Services detective who investigated “the fire.” They were both surprised to see each other, and the older detective said to Jeff, “you became a cop?” He shook his head in disbelief and walked away. Jeff probably grinned from ear to ear. He always liked Larry. He especially liked that, as a teen, he could outrun Larry.

Jeff was extremely proud of his police career and his homicide clearance and conviction rates. He excelled as an interrogator, skillfully putting people who typically distrusted the police at ease. This talent proved invaluable when dealing with witnesses,often felons, gang members or sex workers. He served the citizens of Nashville for 24 years as a police officer and 10 additional years before that working in a variety of labor-intensive jobs while attending middle and high school.

He retired in 2004 to become a stay-at-home father to his youngest daughter, Savannah. Of all the accomplishments he achieved while working, he was his happiest and proudest when he was raising Savannah. He never missed a school function, a cheer practice or a gymnastics class. He sat on the sidelines of every sporting event when she cheered, every cheer competition and often chauffeured her and so many of her friends to games, parties and school. Savannah’s closest friends called Jeff “Papa West.” With the exception of Savannah’s wedding and a small number of special events, he proudly never wore a coat and tie again after his retirement.

He is survived by his wife Debi Highland West, of Bowling Green, daughters Ashley (Joe) of Texas and Savannah (Tony) and his granddaughter Raelynn, of Tennessee. Friends are invited to a pub wake to celebrate his life at 5 p.m. Aug. 31 at Joe B’s Bar, 327 Greenwood Lane. Anyone caught wearing a tie has to buy a round of drinks for everyone else.