Russell Paul Stout Sr.

Russell Paul Stout Sr., 83, of Austin, passed away on October 7, 2026 surrounded by his family. He was born on February 3, 1943, in Port Arthur, Texas, to Maurice and Bessie Stout, the second of five children.

Russell grew up on Avalon Street in Port Arthur, where he was raised in the Catholic faith and served as an altar boy. He lost his father at a young age and became the man of the house at just 12. He graduated from Thomas Jefferson High School in 1961 and went on to play football at Texas Christian University, where he earned All-Southwest Conference honors as a guard his senior year. He graduated from TCU in 1966.

In 1965, he met Nancy on a blind date, and they were married on August 12, 1967. As an adult, Russell joined the Baptist church and served as a deacon at Austin Baptist Church. One of his and Nancy's favorite memories was a trip to the Holy Land with their church.

After college, Russell coached football for two years before finding his true calling as an insurance adjuster. He joined Lindsey and Newsom Insurance Adjusters, and his career took the family from Port Arthur to McAllen, Texarkana, Tyler, and Fort Worth. He finished his career with the Texas Windstorm Insurance Association in Austin.

Russell was an intense man who loved fiercely, and his family was the center of his life. He was a strict and loving father. His children always knew he thought they were special, and he gave them a foundation of love on which to build their lives. He loved family vacations and trips to the beach, and his family and extended family share many fond memories of summers spent together. He was proud of his name and delighted to pass it down to his son and grandson, and he hoped the tradition would one day continue with a Russell IV. The three Russells shared a special bond. They traveled together and treasured their time in each other's company, and one of their most cherished memories was hiking the Inca Trail together to Machu Picchu.

He was preceded in death by his parents, Maurice and Bessie Stout; his sister, Barbara Pecorino; and his brothers, Arthur Stout and David Stout.

He is survived by his wife of 59 years, Nancy Stout; his son, Russell Stout Jr. and wife Melissa; his daughters, Happy Driscoll and husband Darin, Bethany Hammonds and husband Brian, and Melissa Souders and husband Steven; his sister, Joyce Ferrell; and his grandchildren, Hailey Stout, Russell Stout III, Maggie Stout, Kennedy Driscoll, Cael Driscoll, Kate Hammonds, Karoline Hammonds, Henley Hammonds, Everleigh Souders, Paden Souders, and Barron Souders; along with many nieces, nephews, and extended family.

A visitation will be held from 4pm - 6pm on Sunday, October 11th at Cook-Walden Chapel of the Hills Funeral Home, 9700 Anderson Mill Rd, Austin, TX 78750. A funeral service will be Monday, October 12th at 11am at Austin Baptist Church, 7016 Ribelin Ranch Dr, Austin, TX 78750. Russell will be laid to rest at Oakwood Cemetery at a private service with his family.

***Eulogy for Russell Paul Stout Sr. written by Russell Paul Stout Jr:

Good morning. For those of you that don’t know me, I’m Russell Paul Stout Jr. On behalf of my mom and my sisters, Happy, Bethany, and Melissa, thank you all for being here today.

Dad would have loved seeing this room full of people, and I can promise you he would have wanted to shake every one of your hands.

Dad was born in Port Arthur in 1943 and grew up on Avalon Street. When he was just 12 years old, his father passed away, and Dad became the man of the house. I think that experience shaped much of the man he became. He learned early that the people you love depend on you, and he carried that responsibility throughout his life.

He had a special bond with his mother. He loved teasing her, laughing with her, and after she was gone, he liked to say she got smarter every year as the things she predicted came true.

We called her maw-maw but all his friends called her a BJ. It means a lot to me and the family that many of those friends are here today.

He always told me, “Treat your mother special, because you only get one.” And he certainly lived by those words.

Most of you know Dad was a football player. What you probably don’t know is that he was also a cheerleader.

Dad got his first job at nine years old, delivering newspapers. He held that job for several years. I am sure the money he earned came in handy for a single mom struggling to raise 5 kids on her own. When he wanted to play football, his mother wouldn’t let him try out because it meant giving up his paper route. But for some reason, she was willing to let him try out for cheerleader.

So he did. He made the squad, quit the paper route anyway, and spent a full year cheering on the football team before trying out for football the following year.

I once asked him if he was embarrassed standing on the sidelines cheering while his buddies played.

He said, “Of course I was. But in life, if you have a plan to get where you want to go, you don’t have to worry about what other people think of you. The results will speak for themselves.”

And they did.

That cheerleader went on to play guard at TCU on a full scholarship, where he earned All-Southwest Conference honors his senior year, and his degree. He was the first person in his family to earn a college degree. It was something he always valued and demanded for each of his children.

Dad never lost his love for football or education. Growing up, he took me to every Southwest Conference school to see a game and buy a pennant. My 9 pennant collection covered my bedroom wall, and I can still tell you the story behind each one.

Most kids don’t start visiting colleges until high school. Dad started taking me in kindergarten. My first game was UT vs Arkansas at DKR.

In 1965, Dad went on a blind date with a girl named Nancy. Fifty-nine years of marriage later, I’d say that blind date worked out pretty well.

Mom and Dad were both from Port Arthur, and attended the same high school but didn’t know each other then. Mom loved to tell the story of her father’s reaction when he heard about the blind date. My dad was 4 years older and Nancy had never heard of him. However, my grandfather, Daddy doc, had followed Russell’s high school football success and knew he currently played at TCU. He said to Nancy, How do you not know who Russell stout is?

She found out pretty quick. Mom, he loved you fiercely, and we all saw it. We loved how he always affectionately called you Nancy Baby.

As a father, Dad was strict, but he was also incredibly loving. To him, those two things went hand in hand.

We grew up knowing what was expected of us. You said “yes sir” and “no ma’am,” you respected others, and you did what you said you were going to do.

Once those lessons were firmly ingrained, Dad believed we could accomplish just about anything.

And of course, there were the lectures. So many lectures that we eventually started numbering them. One of us would say, “This sounds like lecture number 27.”

But behind every lecture was a father who believed in his children.

I experienced that firsthand during my freshman year at the University of Texas.

My first semester didn’t go quite as planned, and I found myself in danger of not being able to return to school. I had a lot of work to do if I wanted to stay at UT.

I expected Dad to be furious.

Instead, he simply said, “At least you know exactly what you have to do. And I know you can do it. And maybe this semester you should try going to class.”

I think he was the only person in the world who actually believed I could pull it off.

But I never wanted to let my father down. That next semester, I turned things around, stayed in school, and graduated from UT in 3.5 years.

And Dad was so proud.

My sisters each had their own special relationship with Dad, and he was just as proud of them as he was of me. He loved seeing their strength, their accomplishments, and the families they built. He was always interested in what they were doing, always ready with advice, and always eager to tell anyone who would listen how proud he was of his daughters.

To Dad, we were not only his children; we were his greatest joy.

When I was young, Dad copied a note that his own father had written to him before he died. He carefully wrote it in calligraphy, framed it, and hung it on my bedroom wall.

It said:

“Pride in his son is the greatest happiness that comes to a man. And the lad that determines to give his father that joy will achieve much for himself.”

I hung on my bedroom wall and then my son’s and it is here today with us.

Dad used to tell people, “My son is my pride and joy.”

And the truth is, his confidence in me was one of the greatest gifts he ever gave me.

Even as an adult, whenever I felt defeated or discouraged, all I had to do was spend a little time with Mom and Dad. Thier belief in me was so strong that I would leave feeling like I could overcome just about anything.

This love and confidence became the cornerstone of my life.

His faith was also central to who he was, from his days as an altar boy in Port Arthur to serving as a deacon at Austin Baptist Church.

He studied the Bible and prayed every morning. One of the highlights of his life was traveling with Mom to the Holy Land and walking where Jesus walked.

He prayed for every member of our family, every single day. But he didn’t just talk about his faith. He lived it.

Over the years, Mom and Dad opened their home to friends and family members going through difficult times. Some stayed for week or two, others for much longer. Whatever the circumstances, they always had a place to turn when they needed one. He would say, people know that they can count on Russell Stout. And they really could.

Dad was also a man who cared deeply about family traditions, especially when it came to his name.

As a kid, I went by Russ. But in first grade, my report card said “Russell Stout.”

When I asked Dad about it, he explained that I was a junior, and that one day I would have a son and name him Russell the Third.

People always said Russell got everything he wanted and he did.

Russell III is now 28 years old, and I’m so grateful he had 28 years with his Pops.

The three of us shared a special bond and made some wonderful memories together. Dad was so proud of those three generations of Russell Stouts, and he happily served as Chairman of the “Russell Stout Club.”

Today, all three Russells are wearing purple ties. We like that we look alike. And I know the chairman would be pleased.

One of our favorite memories was a trip to Machu Picchu, just the three Russells.

Dad was 70 but determined to climb Huayna Picchu, the steep mountain rising behind Machu Picchu.

The climb was challenging, but it turned out going up was the easy part. Getting back down was another story. Dad spent about half the descent on his behind, scooting from one step to the next.

But he made it.

And that was Dad. When he set his mind to something, he didn’t let much stand in his way. No challenge, no obstacle, no pain would stop him. Even scooting down the side of a mountain, he was still teaching me lessons about determination.

Dad was just as proud of all his grandchildren. He loved each of them dearly and was always their biggest supporter.

He wasn’t one to ask what they wanted for Christmas or their birthdays. He figured he knew them well enough to pick something himself.

Sometimes he nailed it. Other times, not so much.

But the message was always the same. They knew he loved them. He filled notebooks with thoughts about what made them special.

He also believed every child needed two things: a bike and a Bible. Those were his favorite gifts to give.

And Dad certainly knew how to have fun and knew how to brighten a room.

He loved telling stories, laughing, and spending hours sitting outside just talking.

He had a nickname for everyone.

When I was in high school, my first date was with a girl named Dosha. Dad immediately renamed her “Dosha Do or Dosha Don’t.”

Another girlfriend was Sheila the Shadow,

My neighbor was Freddy the Freeloader.

Happy’s college buddy was Brian College Station.

Bethany was the sugee.

Hailey was Hollywood Hailey, and Peaches and Cream.

Dad loved to say, “Every day is a holiday with me.” And a lot of the time, it really was.

He teased everyone.

As kids, we ask dad 'is it gonna rain today?'

I haven’t decided yet.

Or when dropping off a new friend back at their house. He would say.

Phil, I’m in a hurry and don’t have time to stop at your house. I’m gonna slow down and when I give the signal, you’ll need to jump out.

And you can’t talk about Dad without mentioning his dogs.

Dad loved his dogs. Over the years, he had lineup of boxers. A new one came with months of the old one passing: King ( king of the high school ball), Army (neil armstrong), Mack ( named for macallen high school), Boss , Kibbles, Butler (captain rhet butler) and the infamous Bob. And then there was Walker, his last dog, an English bulldog.

They were more than pets to Dad. They were part of the family, and he loved every one of them. Anyone who knew Dad knew just how special his dogs were to him. He often talked about seeing them all together one day in heaven.

Those dogs were far from perfect but dad couldn’t see it. He had a hard time seeing faults in the people or animals he loved.

A few years ago, we spent a week in Port Aransas celebrating Dad’s 80th birthday. On the drive home, Mom, Dad, and I had a conversation I’ll never forget.

I was going through a difficult time in my life, and Dad reminded me, through both his words and his example, that I had the strength to make a change. That conversation became a turning point in my life, and I’ll always be grateful to him for it.

Dad taught me lessons my entire life. Some came through long lectures, some through his example, and others through the simple confidence he had in me. But perhaps the greatest lesson was knowing how much he loved me.

Dad and I shared more than just a name. he often said We looked alike, stood the same height, wore the same shoe size, and even the same hat size. He loved pointing out all the ways we were alike.

This past week, as I sat beside him and held his hand, I noticed something I had never really thought about before.

We had the same fingers, too.

As I held his hand, I could hardly tell his from mine.

And I thought about how much of my life I’ve spent wanting to be like my dad.

I’m proud of the things we shared, but even more grateful for the things he taught me.

Dad, you became the man of the house at just 12 years old, and in so many ways, you never stopped being that man for all of us.

You taught us to be strong, to have faith, to love our families, and to believe in ourselves.

You were always my biggest supporter.

I hope I made you as proud as you’ve always made me.

Shakespeare wrote:

“He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.”

There will never be another like Russell Paul Stout SR.

Thank you Dad. I love you.

***Eulogy for Russell Paul Stout Sr. written by Happy Driscoll:

Good Afternoon. For those that don’t know me, I am Happy Driscoll, Russell and Nancy’s second born and it has been an honor to live up to the name given to me by my Pops. He will never know what a blessing this name has been for me. It always makes people smile when I introduce myself.

Russell and Nancy were married for 59 years and were the loves of each other’s lives. They had 4 children who loved and admired the two of them and their dedication and love for one another. We have always been a family full of fun, laughter and love.

This week we talked about many stories from the past and laughed about how he constantly teased his mother Bessie, known as Maw Maw to us, but how much she loved every second of it. As a father Pops was strict on us.. well much more strict on Russ and I, not quite as strict on Bethany and Melissa who came 6 and 9 years later. He used to tease our Griffin cousins that he would beat us kids on Sundays whether we needed it or not and he would threaten to include them in on this Sunday ritual. We were all a little afraid of him as kids, and this definitely helped keep us out of trouble in our teenage years. Pops was always full of wisdom and often shared this wisdom in the form of lectures. He would get so mad at us when we started numbering the lectures and we would often tease him and reference back to lecture # 34 or #72. At some point we lost count.

Pops would be the first to admit he lived an imperfect life. In his personal testimony he talked about going down the fast track and his rebellion against what he knew what was right and true. Being raised in the Catholic church, he spoke about becoming overwhelmed by the guilt and shame from his sin and feeling it was impossible to live a life moral enough to erase this feeling. He often talked about how blessed he was to find Nancy and after they married how she guided him to the First Baptist church in McAllen where he accepted Christ as his Lord and Savior in 1976. He finally understood he could be free of his guilt and shame by trusting in what Jesus did for him on the cross. In his later years, his faith really flourished as he became a deacon at Austin Baptist Church and regularly volunteered in different ministries such as Vacation Bible School, heading the can food drive, and also reading in the local elementary schools.

As we come together to mourn the passing of Russell, or “Pops the most” he is known by his kids and grandchildren, it should give us all comfort to know that this is not the end for Pops. His faith in Christ gives us the assurance that Jesus welcomed Pops into Heaven with open arms. He has been joined with loved ones from his past, his mother Maw-Maw and his Father, his in-laws Nonnie and Daddy Doc, his siblings Barbara, Arthur and David, Gene Byrd and everyone’s favorite Cousin Richard to name a few that welcomed him home. As

we comfort each other in our time of grieving, I would like for you all to take time to think about your own mortality because none of us are guaranteed a certain number of days on this earth and we are all moving closer to our own death. Do you know where you will spend eternity?

The Holy Bible says it is either Heaven or Hell. We can never be good enough or earn our way into heaven. Romans 3:10 says “There is no one righteous, not even one;” But, God loves us and wants to have a relationship with us, because of our sin we are separated from God. Romans 6:23 says, “For the wages of sin is death”. God had an amazing plan of redemption for all of us who will accept it. God loves us, and he sent His only Son Jesus, who came to this earth fully God yet fully man and He lived a sinless perfect life. He then willingly died a painful death on the cross as punishment for our sins. We have such a loving and merciful Savior. Romans 5:8 says “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” When he died and was buried, it seemed all hope was lost. But the good news, three days later Jesus or LORD was resurrected and death was defeated forever.

If death is something that scares you, putting your trust in Jesus as your LORD and Savior will give you the joy and peace your soul desires. Romans 5: 1 says, “Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” We can be joyful today as we grieve our loss but let this be a celebration of the life Pops lived. Let’s talk about the good times, love on each other, and take comfort that this is not the end and we will be together again with Russell.

One of his favorite bible verses was Matthew 7:13-14, “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”

I count my blessings that Pops found the narrow gate. I am grateful for their church family at ABC and the love and support from them is evident in this room. I will always remember Pops as being my biggest cheerleader and I knew that he always loved me no matter what.

I will forever cherish and remember the family time we spent together and continue to talk about these memories to keep his legacy alive. As we leave today, let’s keep our heavenly eyes open on our eternal home where we will one day be reunited with Pops forever.