Richard Allen Shoemaker, 82, of Fredericktown, Missouri, passed away on June 18, 2025.

Born in St. Louis, Missouri on May 14, 1943, to Elza and Norma (Smith) Shoemaker, Richard was raised with strong values of family, service, and hard work. He graduated from Bremen High School in 1961 before serving proudly in the United States Air Force, where he worked on the Minuteman missile silos—an experience that reflected his dedication and technical skill.

Sometime after his service, Richard began working at Motorola, where fate introduced him to the love of his life, Patricia (Trull) Shoemaker. They married in 1969 and built a life filled with family and love.

Richard spent most of his working years at Sonderman's Appliances. A familiar face in the community, he became something of a town fixture—driving the Sonderman's truck with pride and reliability. When Richard retired, Sonderman's closed its doors, a quiet tribute to the end of an era.

He lived in Illinois for many years before settling in Fredericktown, Missouri, where he spent his later years enjoying woodworking, mowing the grass (with precision and frequency only he understood), and launching nighttime missions in search of wandering cats. He was the teasing grandfather, the steady father, and the devoted husband who once refereed the chaos of six children with a whistle and a wink.

Richard was preceded in death by his parents, Elza and Norma; his wife, Patricia; his brother John; and his son, Kelly.

He is survived by his siblings: Shirley (Larry) Mohan, and Carol Tovey; and by his children: Deborah (Tracy) Kelly, Tracy Boykin, Jennifer (David) Stamp, Laura (Allan) Shetley, and Tina (Jason) Gipson.

He leaves behind his ten (10) cherished grandchildren —as well as many great-grandchildren who will carry his stories and humor forward.

Richard loved fiercely and fully. He was never shy about expressing his pride in his family or cracking a joke at their expense. He showed his love through action—through fixing what was broken, showing up when needed, and making sure everyone knew they mattered.

Every evening after work, he would get on the radio and call out, "Patty Sue, I'm coming home."

Today, those words carry a deeper meaning—because now, he truly has.