Ron L. Hansen, 82, of East Dubuque, IL passed away on June 7th, 2025, at home surrounded by his family.

Visitation for family and friends will be on Thursday, June 12th, 2025, from 4:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m. at Leonard Funeral Home & Crematory, 2595 Rockdale Road with a wake service to be held at 3:45 p.m. Mass of Christian Burial will be at 10:00 a.m. on Friday, June 13th, 2025, at St. Raphael Cathedral with Very Rev. Dennis Quint officiating. Burial will follow in Mount Calvary Cemetery.

Ron is survived by his wife of 59 years Vicki; two sons Erik (Stacey) Hansen, of Peosta, and Jayme (Kelly) Hansen, of Spring Hill, FL. His grandchildren: Justin (Miranda) Hansen, Emiley (Tristan) Meyer, Caitlin (Joe) Pottebaum, Jayden (Jacob Briggs) Hansen, Brayde (Logan) Pint and Rayghan Hansen. Great grandchildren: Emmett Meyer, Eleanor Pottebaum, Palmer Meyer, Taryn Meyer and Tye Meyer. He is also survived by his bonus daughter who he loved as his own, Carrie (Todd) Habel and their children TJ, Nick, Ashlyn, and Cooper. Two nephews Don (Stacy) Bowman and Bryan (Lisa) Bowman; sisters-in-law Jane Scardino and Janice (Craig) Hingtgen. He was preceded in death by his sister Diann Bowman-Portzen.

The Life of Ron Hansen

Ron was a man who lived with purpose, quiet strength, and a deep, enduring love for his family, friends, and work. Over the years, he wore many hats—husband, father, father-in-law, grandfather, great-grandfather, friend, photographer, John Deere employee, and proud Chicago Bears fan—but above all, he was someone who left an unforgettable mark on every life he touched.

After 30 years of dedicated service at John Deere, he retired—but retirement only marked the beginning of another chapter, one just as full of passion and purpose. Ron built Hansen Photography into a thriving family business, working alongside his wife, sons Erik and Jayme, and lifelong friend Doug Wagner. With support and friendship from fellow photographers like Dick Weber, Greg Nauman, Gary Fagan, and Bill Bixler, Ron was constantly refining his craft. We always knew where we’d be every Friday and Saturday, often years in advance. He never showed up to a wedding in anything less than a perfectly pressed suit. He took his work seriously—so seriously that he’d rarely eat at the receptions, always saying, “We’re here to work!” That commitment to professionalism set him apart.

Ron had the “gift of gab,” and if you knew him, you know that’s no exaggeration. Every week brought new friends, and every friend became family. With his magnetic personality, sharp wit, and million-dollar laugh, Ron could talk to anyone about anything. He had a nickname for everyone and a one-liner for every occasion. With Ron, you got what you got—and what you got was something truly special.

But beyond his work and friendships, Ron’s greatest joy was his family. He loved traveling with us—especially to Florida—and later in life, he cherished playing golf with his sons and spending time with his grandchildren as they grew. He was a loving, gentle, and giving man—always present and always proud. Whether it was a trip to the zoo, shopping excursions, or simply sitting down for a conversation, every grandchild carries their own treasured memories of Papa.

A particularly special chapter in his life began when his niece, Carrie Lynne, entered their family and completed it as the daughter they never had. Ron adored her laughter and love. She affectionately called him “Rudy”—a nickname he eventually wore like a badge of honor. Carrie later married Todd Habel adding a son in law into his life, and his family grew once again.

“Ron also cherished his daughters-in-law—Kelly, Jayme’s wife, whom he lovingly called ‘Queeny,’ and Stacey, Erik’s wife, affectionately known as ‘Red.’ They were more than family to him—they were friends, caregivers, and constant sources of joy. Whatever Ron needed, the girls were always there, and he never stopped joking with them.

As time went on, Ron was blessed with ten grandchildren, all of whom he adored. He earned the title of “Papa” with pride, and he was deeply involved in their lives. He was their biggest cheerleader—whether offering advice (solicited or not), attending every activity, or proudly sharing their achievements with anyone who would listen. Papa later became Great-Grandpa to seven great-grandchildren—with one more on the way. His pride in his growing family knew no bounds.

Sundays were sacred—Bears game days. His friend Mick, his nephew Donny, and Donny’s son Sam were faithful companions, joining Ron for every Bears game—while I, a loyal Vikings fan, cheered from upstairs.” It was our tradition to be loud, funny, and full of love.

Some of Ron’s happiest years were spent at the Dubuque Golf and Country Club. He found such joy on Friday night couples’ outings, sharing laughs and life with good friends. And though he couldn’t always play the game as well, he understood it; he loved sharing a good time with friends. He’d often have younger golfers in our home, along with his wife’s number one caddie and friend, Brett Kauffman, reviewing tapes, offering tips, and sharing his wisdom. And when playing on Sundays, his vision might have needed a spotter like Jimmy, but his love for the game never wavered.

He was, famously, a shopaholic. Vicki will never forget their trip to Italy—while she was set on seeing the Sistine Chapel and the Spanish Steps, Ron was far more interested in shopping. That was just like him—always full of surprises. They even renewed their vows in Italy, on their 40th anniversary, in a small church with an Irish priest. A strange and beautiful love story—just like theirs.

Ron and Vicki met when she was only 13, playing baseball at the Franklin playground. He, Jimmy Corbett, and Vicki played every day, and as time passed, their friendship deepened. By 16, they were inseparable, and at 18, they married—despite everyone saying it would never last. Well, here they are, 59 years later. Vicki can proudly say Ron wasn’t just her husband—he was her best friend.

They built a beautiful life together, filled with love, laughter, and extraordinary memories. Ron couldn’t go anywhere without making a new friend. He was always surrounded by people who cared deeply for him. He lived generously, laughed wholeheartedly, and loved without limits.

Ron’s legacy lives on in his children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, friends, and everyone whose life he touched with a smile, a joke, or a kind word. He was pure and caring, with a heart of gold and a laugh that could light up a room.

He will be missed deeply and dearly. But more than anything, he will be remembered—with love, with gratitude, and with joy.