Ronald Dean Heese

Ron was born on September 27, 1946, in Harlan, Iowa, and grew up attending Country School before graduating from Irwin‑Kirkman High School. From a young age, Ron learned the value of hard work—something that stayed with him throughout his life. Over the years, he built a long and varied career, working as a farmhand and later for Western Iowa Pork, the National Guard, Mike’s CO-OP, the Denison Beef Plant, Harlan Manufacturing, Farmland, Western Engineering, and finally retiring from Nelson Farm Supply. He also served the Kirkman community for more than 55 years as both Mayor and a City Council member, and he proudly volunteered on the Kirkman Fire Department for 40 years.

On July 9, 1966, Ron married Lois Ann Rasmussen, and together they built a life filled with laughter, resilience, and deep family roots. Ron was the proud father of three daughters: JanLin Heese, DeeAnn Newell (Ryan), and Nicole Petersen (Anthony Behrens). His love extended to his grandchildren—Casey Masen (Josh), Ashley Petersen, Andrea Petersen, Abbie Petersen, Kennedy Maxey (Herman), Marlee Newell, and Rachel Newell—each of whom he supported, teased, and protected in their own special ways. Ron was also blessed with great‑grandchildren who brought him endless joy: Jade Ransom, Addison Petersen, Slate Petersen, Willow Masen, and Ellis Masen. And through it all, everyone knew one of Ron’s most familiar questions would always be, “Where’s your mom?”

Ron was preceded in death by his parents, Aloysius and Amelia Heese; and his siblings, Donna Jean Murray and Ralph Heese. He is survived by his brothers, Leroy Heese and Stan Heese.

Ron’s thoughtfulness showed up in everyday acts of quiet love. He always made sure to turn on the electric heating blanket on Ashley’s bed before she went upstairs, knowing how cold those bedrooms could get. With Kennedy, he had an exclusive two‑person book club, reading the same books so they could talk about them—though he had a habit of “accidentally” revealing a spoiler before she finished. Kennedy always forgave him, and Ron always insisted it wasn’t intentional… even if his grin said otherwise.

Andrea, meanwhile, learned one of her most memorable lessons after getting a minor‑in‑possession citation. Everyone expected Grandpa Ron to be upset, but the thing Grandpa was most disappointed about was that Andrea had been drinking Bud Light instead of Busch Light—a choice he said she “should have known better” about. Ron absolutely loved this story and retold it often.

Ron also had his opinions—strong ones—and he never shied away from a good debate. Whether it was family, friends, or anyone willing to jump in, Ron argued his point with a stubborn streak and a sparkle in his eye. He loved the back‑and‑forth almost as much as the conversation itself.

And the granddaughters all shared one very specific fear: never let Grandpa Ron know you had a loose tooth. If he found out, he’d immediately offer to pull it out himself—usually with a little too much enthusiasm. Because of that, the girls became experts at keeping wiggly teeth a secret.

In classic Grandpa Ron fashion, he also left the Newell girls with a story they still joke (and maybe shiver) about to this day. During a camping trip at Ledges, he told them—with a perfectly straight face—that an escaped purple gorilla was running loose in the campground. Thanks to his convincing delivery, the Newell girls claim they’re still recovering from the nightmares that followed.

Ron believed fun didn’t require fancy toys. One of the grandchildren’s favorite memories was being pulled around town on a picnic table mounted on wheels and hitched to a lawnmower—Ron driving, laughing, and creating the kind of childhood adventure that stays with you forever.

Ron had a creativity that most people only dream of. If it could be welded, shaped, or pieced together, Ron could turn it into something wonderful. He crafted rings, airplanes, cars, flowers, and treasures from scrap metal and even serving utensils. He was always tinkering—fixing cars, lawn mowers, and motorcycles—and spending countless hours in the garage working on a motorcycle motor that, as everyone agreed, would never run, alongside Blue and Ronfeldt.

Ron was proud of his involvement in several local clubs and organizations. He was a member of the Kirkman Half‑Cocked Gun Club, an experience he talked about with a grin long after the club itself faded away. He was also a dedicated member of the Greenridge Steam and Gas Engine Antique Show, where he loved teaching schoolchildren how to make rope by hand and watching their faces light up. In addition, Ron was a proud member of the AmVets, honoring his commitment to service and community.

Ron loved the simple pleasures that made life good—especially driving his beloved 1994 Corvette and riding his motorcycles. And no matter what the day held, he ended every evening with his cats by his side, their quiet company bringing him comfort, routine, and a bit of mischief.

His garage was his sanctuary, where friends stopped by for a beer, a story, or to “help” with whatever project he had torn apart on the workbench. And anyone who knew Ron knew he loved telling an inappropriate joke or two—always delivered with a mischievous sparkle in his eye and usually followed by his own laughter before he even reached the punchline.

Ron cherished coffee with the boys at the county golf course, enjoyed camping with family and friends, and took many road trips to Missouri to visit his brother, Stan. He was a fearless cook, always creating new recipes from whatever he found in the refrigerator and insisting his family try them—sometimes against their will. He also had a serious sweet tooth, and JanLin learned quickly that her snack stash needed better security than most bank vaults if she wanted to keep it safe from him. Above all, Ron was devoted to his children and grandchildren, fiercely protective, endlessly supportive, and always willing to drop everything when they needed him.

A Celebration of Life will be held on June 20, 2026, starting at 11:00 AM at the Kirkman Community Building, where family and friends will gather to remember a man whose humor, creativity, strong will, and generosity left a lasting mark on everyone who knew him.