Ronald Eugene Brooks

Ron Brooks Sr. lived life his own way. He followed his heart, worked hard, enjoyed the world around him, and found happiness in the people, places, and experiences that mattered to him. He never needed anyone else to tell him what a good life was supposed to look like.

Ron loved life. Not simply the idea of life—he loved living it.

He was one of the hardest-working people his son ever knew, carrying with him the same work ethic Ron remembered in his grandfather. He grew much of the food he ate, loved pottery and stoneware, worked with his hands, and had an appreciation for things that were useful, natural, handmade, and built to last.

Alaska held a particularly important place in Ron's life, and it became part of the bond he shared with his son. During many summers together, life was simple and sometimes pretty rugged. There were years without running water or plumbing, time spent living in a heavy canvas Army tent and later a small two-room home heated by a wood stove, and water hauled by hand from the North Fork.

But those summers were also filled with experiences his son would never forget. They fished through the night, following the tides in and out. They watched bald eagles along Cook Inlet, encountered bears and spawning salmon, and learned to appreciate things as simple as a hot shower after going without one.

Fishing was more than something Ron occasionally did. He tied his own flies, knew the water, and spent countless hours fishing. Some of the greatest experiences and memories of his son's life came from those summers and from being on the water with his dad.

Ron didn't just tell his son about the world. He took him out into it.

During one of those visits, Ron tried everything he could think of to get his son out of bed. He went from getting irritated to simply messing with him, trying to make him get up. Somewhere in the process came a line his son never forgot:

“Don't sleep your life away.”

It was funny then. Decades later, those words say quite a bit about the man who said them.

Ron certainly didn't sleep his life away.

And there was always music.

Ron taught himself to play guitar, loved going to shows, and genuinely appreciated the people who made the music he loved. He didn't simply listen to music—he went where the music was. Along the way, music became part of many of his friendships and brought people into his life.

Music was also something he gave to his son. He introduced him to artists and songs that stayed with him, took him to shows, and encouraged him to play. Ron didn't always need to be asked for something. His son could mention an interest in a mandolin or harmonica, and before long one would somehow appear.

One of those harmonicas has remained on his son's desk for more than twenty years.

It says something simple but important about Ron:

He listened.

He paid attention to the little things people said, and sometimes those seemingly little things became memories and possessions that meant far more many years later.

Ron enjoyed good music, good food, fishing, the outdoors, working with his hands, his dogs, his friends, and the experiences he collected along the way. His home reflected the life he had lived, filled with art, music, pieces of Alaska, handmade things, and objects that carried memories and stories.

Ron also possessed tremendous inner strength and an incredible will to live. When cancer came into his life, he faced it with the same stubborn determination and love of living that characterized so much of who he was.

He beat it.

Cancer became one chapter in Ron's life, but it never became the story of his life.

Ron could be stubborn, independent, funny, and completely himself. He followed his heart, even when the road it took him down wasn't necessarily the easiest one. He didn't spend his life trying to fit somebody else's idea of who he was supposed to be.

Father and son could disagree. They could irritate the hell out of each other. They could both be stubborn enough to believe the other one was wrong. Looking back, perhaps some of that was because they were more alike than either one of them cared to admit.

Life took Ron many places. Eventually, after all those years and miles, it brought him back to Iowa and to Gladbrook. In another turn neither father nor son could have planned, Ron Jr. also eventually found himself in Gladbrook. Their lives had traveled different roads, but somehow those roads brought them back to the same small Iowa town.

There were things Ron apologized for that never required an apology, and there were undoubtedly things left unsaid—as there almost always are when someone leaves unexpectedly. But there was never any question that Ron loved his son, and his son was extraordinarily proud to be his.

Ron is survived by his son Ron Brooks Jr., brother Wiley Brooks Jr, brother Roger Brooks, brother Marty Brooks, and brother Craig Brooks.

He was preceded in death by his parents Wiley Sr. and Emma Richards Brooks.

Ron Brooks Sr.'s life cannot be summed up by dates on a page. It can be found in summers in Alaska, nights spent fishing the tides, flies tied by his own hands, things grown and made, favorite meals, dogs underfoot, a cold drink, a good song played in the right place, friendships made along the way, laughter, disagreements, hard work, second chances, and countless ordinary moments that become extraordinary once we realize they cannot happen again.

Ron loved being alive.

He worked hard. He followed his heart. He went where the music was.

And perhaps something he once said while trying to get his son out of bed all those years ago is as fitting a reminder as any of how Ron Brooks Sr. chose to live:

“Don't sleep your life away.”

Visitation will be held Friday, September 18, from 5:00–7:00 p.m. at Mitchell Family Funeral Home, 1209 Iowa Avenue W, Marshalltown, Iowa.

A graveside service will be held Saturday, September 19, at 11:00 a.m. at Prairie View Cemetery, 3233 Yates Avenue, Gilman, Iowa.

Immediately following the graveside service, family and friends are invited to gather at Green Castle Recreation Area, 2891 Green Castle Road, Gilman, Iowa, to celebrate Ron's life.

This obituary was lovingly written by the family

Mitchell Family Funeral Home is proud to serve Ron Brooks and his family.