On Monday, February 5, 2006, I attended the funeral of Russell Willeman. The service was nice and full, as friends and family packed in to pay their final respects to this much-loved man. I was not able to make the viewing the day before, but from what I understand, enormous amounts of people paraded through the Littleton & Rue Funeral Home. It was obvious that that nearly the entire town of Springfield had been touched by Russell in some way. He had spent his career as a local high school Art teacher for 25 years.
I knew Russell through George, one of my oldest and dearest friends. George and I met in 1986 at our old Sons of the Desert tent in Springfield. Indirectly, Russell was actually responsible for us meeting, as he had refered George to the tent, after being informed of its existance by Carl Ahlm, one of Russ’ fellow teachers. George and I became fast friends, and it wasn’t long after that he invited me over for stays at his house. At that time, he was still living at home, so we had occasion to often run into his Dad. Russell always impressed me as an extrememly friendly and knowledgeable guy. His love of cars was obvious right off the bat, as he was often found working in his garage on his Model A Ford. He was the kind of guy that you immediately felt comfortable around. His curly moustache and patented overalls were the trademark I came to know him by.
After George moved out of his parents’ house, I didn’t see Russell very often – until about 2002. At that time, George began to take a much more active role in our local Sons tent, and would often bring along his parents. I always enjoyed his Dad’s hearty, infectious laugh. Even at this time Russell had begun to suffer from Progressive Supranuclear Plasy, a degenerative brain disease with no cure that causes impairments to movement, balance, vision, speech, and swallowing. Several times at the meetings, George would have to physically lift his Dad to get him up and moving. Naturally, the two of them would turn this into a comedy situation, remarking it felt ‘just like Laurel and Hardy.’
Jane and Russell Willeman with me at the meeting on March 1, 2003
In time, Russell’s health deteriorated to the point that he could no longer make the trek to meetings, which were some of the last functions he ever attended. Just two days before his Dad died, George emailed me and told me how much his Dad had dearly loved coming to the Sons meetings, even when he wasn’t feeling well. That meant a lot to me.
I know Russell will be missed by his family, friends, and the many people he touched over the years.
Thanks Brad, He was truly an amazing man.
Jane Willeman
February 17th, 2007
My husband, his brother, and I were just reminiscing about art teachers that we had when Mr. Willeman’s name came up. We had all been taught by him at different schools in the district. I remember him as such a sweet man. So sorry for thr family’s loss.
Heather Malone
January 5th, 2019