Joseph Henry Ivy

I, Joseph Henry Ivy, born October 2, 1943, in Amarillo, TX, took my mortal exit from this world and entered the Great Turnpike in the Sky on April 19, 2025, at Mercy Hospital in Rogers, AR. My passing was as peaceful as a cloud, with my family gathered around my bed and holding my hands. Now I've got the windows down in my custom 1940 Merc, and I'm cruising at a smooth 75 miles per hour, with the wind in my hair and the highway at my back. Next stop: the warm western sunset, where I'll enjoy a tall chocolate shake, a Willie Nelson tune on the radio, and a million memories of my family.
Back on the mortal road, I put 82 years of life on my speedometer and made every single one count. A 1962 graduate of Amarillo High School (where I greased my hair and wore my best white T-shirts and cuffed blue jeans), I went on to become a depot agent for the Santa Fe Railroad, where I did everything from sell tickets to handle freight operations to communicate via Morse code with the trains. After my stint with the Santa Fe, I became an entrepreneur of several businesses. I owned Sonic restaurants and a popular grocery store; I ran a car business; I managed a Chevrolet dealership. You name it, I probably sold it. Eventually, I went to work for Southwestern Consolidated Directory Co., Inc. of Livingston, TX, and became manager of the company's Pine Bluff, AR office. There, I spent the next 30 years of my action-packed life selling yellow-page advertisements to the fine folks of Southeast Arkansas. After my career with Southwestern Consolidated, I became co-manager of City Wide Directories L.L.C. But no matter how busy I got, I always found the time to watch movies with my family, play spirited tournaments of pool in the game room, and watch reruns of my favorite classic car show, Mecum Auctions.
You might have also heard about my singing and guitar playing. Oh yes, I could pick and grin with the best of them, and I had a soft, sultry singing voice that could charm the birds from the trees. I was particularly fond of Jim Reeves and Ray Price tunes, but one of the first songs I ever played to my beautiful wife, Barbara, was Willie Nelson's "Angel Flying Too Close To the Ground," which goes a little something like this:
I knew someday that you would fly away
For love's the greatest healer to be found
So leave me if you need to, I will still remember
Angel flying too close to the ground.
Speaking of angels, I am preceded in death by my wonderful parents, Marion Victor Ivy and Rosa Lorna Anderson, as well as three remarkable sisters, Wahleah, Alice Lucille, and Rosa Lee, all of whom I plan to meet again at the very next exit, where we'll sit together in a booth and get caught up over cheeseburgers and fries.
I am survived by that loving wife I told you about, Barbara Ann Ivy, who rode by my side every mile we crossed; two stepchildren, Melissa Kimsey of Arkadelphia, AR, and Brad McLelland and wife Alisha McLelland of Ponca City, OK; my son, Joseph Ivy of Texas; and a handful of nieces and nephews that I adore more than a finely tuned, 8-cylinder, 4-barrel carburetor (and that's saying a lot).
A memorial service will be scheduled at a later date. Arrangements have been entrusted to Wasson Funeral Home, 441 US-412, Siloam Springs, AR., 72761. In lieu of flowers, my family and I ask that you consider a donation to Northwest Arkansas Food Bank or American Red Cross.
And while you're at it, whistle a bit of my favorite song if you will, the old Willie Nelson ditty that goes:
Fly on, fly on past the speed of sound
I'd rather see you up than see you down
So leave me if you need to, I will still remember
Angel flying too close to the ground.