Ronald-Croyle-Obituary

Ronald H. Croyle

BOX ELDER , South Dakota

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BOX ELDER , South Dakota

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BOX ELDER - Ronald H. Croyle, 71, Box Elder, completed his earthly journey on Saturday, Jan. 17, 2009, at his home. He was born March 2, 1937, in Summerhill, PA to H.L. and Ruby (Engle) Croyle, the second of four sons. Ron married the love of his life, Betty Stombaugh on April 9, 1956. To this...

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Betty & family,

We are so sorry for your loss. I didn't always see eye to eye with Ron but we all loved him. I personally will miss the walleye he cooked for us. Whitey was not crazy about fish but he said he would eat it every day if Ron would cook it. I remember him meeting us at the airport when we would fly in to visit. We will miss him when we come out again. I know all the sisters were happy to see him in Oct. I know you are in a better place but you will be missed by all...

Ron will always have a spot in my heart. He was not just my brother-in-law he was my brother.
Ron while your strolling along the creek with your fishing pole and stringer or bobbing up down in a boat on a lake watch over the rest of us.
I love you.
Mary

May this great man rest in peace. I have heard many great stories about Ronny from my husband and my Grandfather in-law. Although I never had the pleasure of meeting him, I can tell that he was a fun-filled and honorable guy. The memories that my husband shared with him will live on forever. My heart goes out to the rest of the Croyle family in this sad time.

I am sorry for your loss. My thoughts and prayers are with you all.

Ginny Carsten

To Betty and all the Croyle family:
My thoughts and prayers are with you all, may your memories of Ronny give comfort now and in the future.

To Aunt Betty, to my cousins Suzy, Jack, Jim, Ruth, Becky.

My Uncle Ronny was as described in his obituary, a jokester / storyteller. For him, when he fished, every fish he hooked was the "big one", every deer he shot at was a trophy. His exaggerations were always taken with a grain of salt. I loved him as much as I love my own father. It was my Uncle Ronny who was walking down one of the many roads in the McVeigh Burn area with me, when a deer ran out and I shot it, my first...