Robert Daniel Holthues

Today we gather to remember Robert Daniel Holthues, known to most of us as Bob—a man who lived life on his own terms and left a mark simply by being who he was.

Bob was born on May 6, 1933, in Clark, Wyoming, to Duke Daniel and Hilda Kunz Holthues. He grew up in a time and place that valued toughness, independence, and figuring things out for yourself. Those qualities stayed with him his entire life

Bob served his country faithfully, first in the United States Marines from 1952 to 1955, and then by reenlisting in the Army from 1955 to 1957. We know he served five years and nine months, and evidence suggests he may have enlisted yet again. Bob didn’t talk much about his service—he just did it. That quiet commitment was typical of him.

Earlier in life, Bob was married and had three children. Later, he married Connie, the woman who mattered most to him. Bob wasn’t a man who showed affection easily or spoke openly about emotions, but Connie was his person. When she entered Heaven before him, something shifted. He carried on, but it was clear he was waiting—waiting for the day he would join her again.

Bob was a jack of many trades, and this may be where he felt most at home. He had a gift for fixing things, rigging things together, and making them work—sometimes in ways only Bob understood. He took pride in his fishing boat, not because it was flashy, but because he had built it up himself. That pride came from effort, not applause.

In his later years, Bob liked to gamble a little—another way he challenged the odds. And in many ways, Bob outlived them. He wasn’t flashy, sentimental, or easy to read, but he was resilient, resourceful, and unmistakably himself.

Bob wasn’t a man of many words or grand gestures. He didn’t try to be warm or polished. What you saw was what you got—and that honesty is something to respect. He leaves behind stories, memories, and a life lived without pretending to be anything he wasn’t.

On December 20, 2025, Bob entered Heaven’s doors. We can take comfort in believing he is now reunited with Connie, at peace, and finally done fixing, fighting, and figuring things out.

Bob was one of a kind. And whether you understood him easily or not, his life was real, lived fully, and unmistakably his.

Rest easy, Bob.