William Dennis Stinson, Sr.

From His Garden Remembering William Dennis Stinson Sr. | February 11, 1939 – October 29, 2026

 I was never going to be a lawn. In Burbank, Illinois, where the houses stood close together and backyard space was precious, he gave that space to me. Corn, tomatoes, squash, pumpkins, cucumbers, peppers—if he could grow it, he found room. Other yards had grass. I had a job. That suited us both. William Dennis Stinson Sr. understood work. Born in Illinois on February 11, 1939, to Guy Elwood Raspberry Stinson and Johanna Katherina “Honey” Stegman, he became a pipefitter with Local 597. He helped build nuclear power plants, including Braidwood and Dresden, and took pride in what his trade allowed him to give his family. Long before anything reached my soil, he was already providing. He helped build the plants that powered homes. Then he came home and watered my plants. I preferred him on the watering shift. As a young man, he served as an Air Force mechanic in Guam and survived a plane crash during his service. He retired from pipefitting at 55. Thirty-two years of retirement: even I have to admit that was a good yield. I had to share him with the river. He loved hunting and fishing, especially at Spring Lake near the Mississippi. His family remembered camping in tents on an island, fishing and swimming with his cousin Benny and Benny Jr., and later spending weekends at their camper. He and his wife, Lucy Jane, owned the Little Inn in Worth and the River Den in Thomson. They bought the River Den to be closer to the fishing. I understood the move. Water and fish help me grow, too. There was music in his life, too: harmonica, guitar, the family organ, and John Denver songs. His son Patrick carried that love of music and performing into his own life. “Back Home Again” now means more than a song title. He even performed at Chicago’s Lyric Opera. He was there to work on the air conditioning, crossed the stage, and sang a song. No audience, no invitation, no matter. When you have your opportunity to reach the sun, you take it. He had been making dad jokes long before anyone gave them a name. All three sons inherited his sense of humor. Patrick claims to be the funniest. I grow vegetables; I’m staying out of it. He was plainspoken. You knew where you stood with him, much as you knew where you stood with me: if there were weeds, there were weeds. He didn’t offer an opinion unless you asked, but asking meant accepting the answer. At the game table, he gave his children the same respect he gave anyone else. He would not let them win. They had to earn it. People often talk to their plants. He was called Denny as a young man, but to me, he was Bill. He and I had many conversations, though they were necessarily one-sided. A garden cannot talk back. We can only grow. But I watched Bill grow, too.

Cremation rites were entrusted to Turner-Eighner Funeral Home in Plano, IL. Per Bill's wishes there will be no services. For more information or to sign the online guestbook go to www.EighnerFuneralHomes.com 

Turner-Eighner Funeral Home 

13160 W. Rt 34 ~ P.O. Box 404 

Somonauk, IL 60552 

815-498-2363