A. Francis Spiess

A. Francis Spiess-known to many as "Skeet," and to a lucky few as Dad, Grandpa, Husband, Friend, or that guy who once swore he caught a bass the size of a lawn chair-passed away peacefully on July 30, 2025, at the age of 86. He left this world just as he lived in it: on his terms, with a mischievous grin, and probably thinking about BBQ. While our hearts are heavy, we're pretty sure he's already found the best fishing spot in Heaven and is trying to convince Saint Peter that this time, the big one didn't get away.
Born on September 27, 1938, Francis entered the world with a twinkle in his eye and a story already forming. He lived a life rich in adventure, laughter, and just the right amount of mischief. A man of many passions-fisherman, hunter, gardener, poker player, world-class storyteller, and (according to reliable sources) mildly allergic to following the rules-Francis had a legendary love for spicy food (jalapeño anyone?), Kansas City BBQ, and a good casino run. But above all else, he adored his dog, Bean-who, frankly, outranked the rest of us in his heart.
Francis was the very proud and loving father of four children: Tim, Susan, Ruth Ann, and his youngest, Shannon. He beamed with pride at their accomplishments, big or small, and never missed a chance to brag-to any captive audience. He raised his kids with grit, humor, attention to detail, and plenty of stories that began with "Back in my day " and often involved a fish, a snapping turtle in the trunk, or a snake that didn't bite. He passed down lessons in perseverance, adventure, the value of a hard day's work, and how to convincingly stretch the truth during a poker game.
Francis spent 40 joyful, faithfully chaotic, love-filled years married to Eileen, who somehow managed to keep him fed, dressed, and only occasionally from wearing camouflage to formal events. Their life together was a testament to unconditional love, patience, and shared laughter.
Francis had a gift for turning everyday moments into epic tales. Whether it was "the one that got away" or "that time at the casino," his stories were 10% truth, 90% entertainment, and 100% Francis. When he wasn't outside trying to outsmart deer, weeds, wily fish, or creatively carving wood, he was at the poker table with his lifelong buddies. His Wednesday poker league wasn't really about cards-it was about laughter, camaraderie, fellowship, a bit of bourbon, and approximately 700 retellings of "that one time at the lake." There, he was a force-not because he always won, but because he could bluff you out of your snack, your money, and your self-esteem, all while retelling a tale from 1964.
He leaves behind a legacy of joy, hard-earned wisdom, cucumber plants that will probably keep producing until the end of time, and a suspiciously large collection of tumbled rocks. He taught us to take life seriously-but not too seriously-and to always have one more story ready, just in case someone needed a laugh.
In lieu of flowers, the family asks you to go fishing, plant something in the garden, play a hand of cards, sneak your dog a treat when no one's looking, or tell a story that may or may not be entirely true-in Francis' honor. Donations to Shep's Place Senior Dog Sanctuary or your local animal shelter would be an extra special touch.
We welcome all to a fun Celebration of Francis' Life on September 6th from 3:30-6:30 pm at the Independence Uptown Market, 211 W. Truman Rd. Bring your stories, your appetite, and maybe a deck of cards to help us celebrate a life larger than most. A private graveside service will be held at an earlier date.
So, raise a glass, tip your cap, and remember: a good story beats a quiet truth any day.
We love you, Dad. May your lines stay tight, your hands stay dirty, and your stories live on forever.
Obituary submitted by the family.
Royer's New Salem Funeral Home ~ Independence, MO (816) 796-8600