Gerald Wayne Hoye

We were blessed to call Gerald Wayne Hoye, “Jerry,” our dad. He was born on July 15, 1931, and on January 1, 2026, at the age of 94, he quietly left this world—on his own terms and surrounded by family.

Dad was the son of Alvin F. Hoye and Donna J. Green, and the last surviving member of his generation of siblings—Alvin, Robert, Rex, Athelda “Tee,” Jaqueline, and Patricia. He is now reunited with the love of his life, our mom, Edith D. Hoye, who passed away in 2011. Even after she was gone, she was never far from his heart, and he continued to celebrate their love through music, dancing, and sharing memories with all of us.

As the children of eight—Gerald, Joann, Susan, Cindy, William, Kelly, Geraldine, and Russell—we were fortunate to know our dad not only as a father, but as the man so many others loved and admired. Dad had a great sense of humor—sometimes a bit inappropriate—but always perfectly timed. A comment, a look, or even a pause could make everyone laugh. And if you ever heard him say “slurpy time,” you knew you were in good company and about to share some laughs and a good story.

Family was everything to our dad. He was incredibly proud of the family that grew from him—24 grandchildren, 45 great-grandchildren, and 6 great-great-grandchildren. He affectionately referred to all of his children by number, so much so that his friends often knew us by our numbers rather than our names. He loved sharing updates about the ever-growing number of great and great-great-grandchildren. He followed each generation closely, frequently spoke about the importance of family, and openly shared the pride he felt in the legacy he built.

In addition to his family, another important part of our dad’s life was his dedication to volunteering at the American Legion. He gave countless hours helping wherever he was needed—working fish fries, assisting with bingo, bartending, maintaining facilities, and always stepping in without being asked. He became a familiar and much-loved sight driving his scooter to the club, earning the affectionate nickname “Scooter.” Inside, he could often be found playing liar’s poker, laughing with friends, and enjoying the camaraderie that meant so much to him.

Dad believed in showing up—for his family, his friends, and his community. His volunteer work was never about recognition; it was about belonging, service, and taking care of people. The American Legion wasn’t just a place he went—it was a part of who he was.

Our dad lived nearly a century, witnessing enormous change while remaining steady in his values. He taught us the importance of helping others, keeping your sense of humor, and finding joy in the simple things—good company, shared laughter, and a cold beer at just the right time.

We will miss our dad deeply, but we are forever grateful for the years we had, the lessons he taught, and the love he gave in his own quiet way. His legacy lives on through all of us, and we know his memory will continue to bring smiles for generations to come.

Love you much, Dad.