Memorial
“Don’t mourn me—celebrate. Just don’t drive.”
– Donald R. Stauffer, May 31, 1945 – Good Friday (April 3, 2026)
It is with great sadness—and, at his insistence, even greater celebration—that we share the passing of Donald Roy Stauffer, a man whose life provided an endless supply of stories, laughter, and lessons for everyone lucky enough to know him.
Born in a horse stable to Ken and Mary (Sain) Stauffer on May 31, 1945, Don entered the world already doing things his own way—setting the tone for a life that would be anything but ordinary. If there were ever a comparison to be made, it might be to Rube Goldberg—creative, unconventional, and always leaving people wondering, “How did he manage that?”
Born and raised in Wadsworth, Ohio, a blind date with a young lady from Akron, Ohio solidified the trajectory for his future. Don and Marilyn (Buda) Stauffer were wed on their seventh date on June 25, 1966.
After graduating from DeVry Tech with an uncanny ability to tinker, Don received several job offers to begin his working career. Boeing offered him several exciting opportunities and locations, while Collin’s Radio offered him an incredible challenge in what most would consider a humdrum location – Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Don followed every man’s dream, grabbed his new wife’s hand, and jumped headfirst into Cedar Rapids, Iowa because people already confused Ohio and Iowa – the state with potatoes, right? Besides, his reputation had not yet traveled that far west. It was at Collins Radio where his creative thinking contributed to putting footprints on the moon. Some may say what he did wasn’t rocket science, but yeah, it kinda was.
Following his foray into space, he tinkered his way over to J-Tec to focus his skills on projects aimed at navigating the oceans. He was involved in several super-secret projects aiding the military in their underwater missions. We would tell you more about this, but you don’t have top secret clearance, and quite honestly, we don’t really understand all that technical stuff anyway.
Moving on, he worked as a boilerman at Cherry Burrell and, when it mattered most, he was the one who kept the heat on.
He finished his career at General Mills, where for 21 years he helped keep machines running so families everywhere could count on Cheerios for their babies and fruit snacks for their growing kids. It was steady work, done with pride—exactly the way Don believed things should be.
As if space, sea, and machinery weren’t enough, Don spent a brief stint living every child’s dream when he served as a volunteer firefighter with the Hiawatha Fire Department.
Of course, Don didn’t just leave behind accomplishments—he left behind a language all his own. “Stauffer” became a verb. When something almost went exactly as planned… and then somehow didn’t—we’d just say, “Well… he Stauffered that one.” And somehow, that explained everything.
He also had a very specific (yet scientifically unproven) impact on Hawkeye sports. If a game wasn’t going well, the first question was always, “Is Dad watching?” If the answer was yes, we knew what had to be done—because clearly, they weren’t going to win if he kept watching.
Don is survived by the love of his life Marilyn; his son David (Colene) Stauffer; his daughter Kristin (Scott Schaeffer) Stauffer; and his grandchildren Derek Stauffer, Kaylee (Ethan) Ferguson, and Wade Schaeffer. Additionally, he is survived by his sister Laura (Gary) Spice of Woodstock, Illinois, his brother Harry (Cathy) Stauffer of Wadsworth, Ohio, as well as nieces and nephews—each of whom he was immensely proud of and loved deeply. They will carry forward his stories, his humor, and his example… even if living up to him feels like an impossible task.
Don and Marilyn shared a love that quietly endured everything life placed in their path. He often said he couldn’t believe she saw something in him when he felt he had little to offer—but in true Don fashion, he spent every day proving her right.
Anyone who met Don learned something from him—whether they realized it or not. We didn’t always appreciate Dad’s lectures at the time, often rolling our eyes as we joked about how we had numbered them well into the thousands. But in the end, those lessons stuck. By the way he lived, he left behind a simple and powerful set of lessons:
• Believe people are good—unless they prove otherwise. Start with respect.
• Work hard, and do things right the first time. No shortcuts. Be proud of what you put your name on.
• Treat people well. No one is above you, and you are above no one.
• Give what you can. Help others. Do the right thing—you won’t regret it.
• And, in the wise words of Bob Barker and Betty White: be kind to animals… and don’t forget to spay or neuter your pets.
Don will be remembered for his humor, his ingenuity, and his uncanny ability to fix just about anything. Not to mention his garage sales – where he managed to somehow always lose money. If someone appeared to have a genuine need, he would drop the price to free, add a few more items, and then pay them $5 to take the stuff as he loaded their car for them – Don will be remembered for his kindness and the love he gave so freely to everyone.
The carousel will keep spinning, the wrenches will keep turning—and his legacy, whether he would have liked it or not, will live on in all of us.
We invite you to join us in celebrating a life well lived on Thursday, April 9th, 2026, at the Cedar Memorial Park Family Center. An open-house style reception begins at 1:30 PM with a special tribute planned at 2:30. In honor of Don, who loved people for who they are, come as you are. Casual dress is encouraged.
Following this, all are invited to gather at David and Co’s house for a bite to eat while storytelling and toasting!