Richard "Dick" Ogden

Richard Ogden, 83, passed away January 16, 2021 at his home.

Dick was born May 11, 1937 to Ward and Thelma (Moran) Ogden.

He is survived by his children, Heidi Ogden and Rocky Ogden; grandchildren, Trevor (Rachel) Belding, Taylor (Drea) Belding, Terence (Reba) Belding and Taylor Ogden; 13 great grandchildren; siblings, John (Gail) Ogden and Betty (Bob).

He was preceded in death by his parents; sister, Mary Lou; brother, Ward, Bob and Jim.

There will be no formal services at this time. Dick will eventually be laid to rest at Avon Cemetery in Avon Lake, Iowa.

Memorial contributions may be directed to the family in loving memory of Dick.

Condolences may be expressed at www.HamiltonsFuneralHome.com.


He called me Marie
Every story needs a title, he called me Marie since I can remember, NO ONE but my Dad can call me Marie!
My dad was never a showman, he was a gambler. He gambled in life, gambled as a small business owner, gambled in cards. Cribbage was his passion! He hosted many tournaments, traveled to out of state tournaments, and played anyone who wanted to part with their money. He was a Judge in the Cribbage world to ensure everyone abided by the rules. I helped him run tournaments he hosted at the Eagles and Best Western in both Johnston and Ankeny. He would use me as an “odd number” to make it even. I did not inherit his gambler gene; I don’t have the nerves or stomach to play cards for money, so anyone who got me as on opponent was a sure winner.
I remember as a child he and my mom would have folks over to play cards in their living room. I assume it was Pitch or some other card game. They were playing when I went to bed and still playing when I got up in the morning.
He loved the Minnesota Vikings, attended many games at their home stadium, along with Green Bay and Kansas City stadiums. Bud Grant gave him a team jacket for the number of games he attended at the home stadium. He wore that jacket with great pride for until it was nothing but threads.
I have lots of great memories, too many to share, it would take 83 years to tell them all and I am sure many of can fill in the blanks with stories before I was a twinkle in his eye. Here are a few of my favorite memories:
As a young child, Dad would gather Rocky and me to “meditate” in a chair swing. I thought it was the coolest thing ever because I got time to sit with Dad. He had rules for nearly everything and this nightly routine was not left out. We could not talk, just sit and reflect on the day’s events. Later when I had kids of my own, I figured out what this nightly routine was about: to get Rocky and I to wind down to go to bed – sneaky guy he was.
Rocky, his friends and I would build ground and tree forts in the wooded area behind Barlow Granger Elementary. “We” would get them built but I was not allowed in because they were for boys only. I ramped up my “daddy girl” tears and told my dad what happened. He went to the basement, took apart Rocky’s train set, used the platform it was on as the base for the coolest Tiki hut fort on top of our Jungle Gym swing set in our back yard. I did not want to share my new vacation site, but Mom said I had to share. As it turned out, Rocky and I had many great vacations in our own little piece of the world. We lived in our vacation home every summer for several years.
He enjoyed the State Fair especially the games on the midway. His favorite was flipping dimes, nickels, and quarters on a plate to win a prize. The prize he was seeking were beautiful dolls. He would go to each booth, get his winnings and move to the next. I ended up with one of every doll (about 10) except the Bride before the carnies figured out that he knew how to “cheat the system” and banned him from the midway.
Another favorite activity at the fair was the double Ferris Wheel. If he had a kid, his friend who operated the ride would skip him on the get off. So, his guinea pigs were Rocky and me. I remember one time we rode this horrible ride for nearly an entire Beach Boys concert. Two birds one stone - ride his favorite ride, view a concert for free.
Dad was a master craftsman; he roofed many houses in the DSM metro area. Some of his customers even said what he did was a work of art. For years Curly’s Furniture on Army Post had their name shingled on the roof - that was my dad’s handy work. Both Rocky and I helped Dad on roof jobs. As a teenager, I needed extra cash to purchase a car, so I helped him on one roof just off Jackson and SE 1st. It was a steep pitched roof with a porch. My job was to strip the porch. Up I went, got nearly done when I sat on a rotted 2x4 and disturbed a hornet’s nest! After jumping off the roof, I told Dad, I will pick any and everything off the ground, but I will not get back on that roof again. My roofing career ended after that job.
In 1997 Dad helped me deliver the newspapers on one of my routes so my boys did not have to be at home alone for too long, then he would go home get cleaned up and head out to his roof job. He was constantly telling me “Marie, you are not making any money, why do you continue to do this?” I would respond, Dad, the money comes in when I need it to get by. Well, he must have liked those early morning walks because he ended up getting a route of his own. After prostate cancer surgery in 1998 ended his roofing days, he picked up another route. So, the man that said it wasn’t worth the time, delivered the Des Moines Register for 17 years, building a great customer base who tipped him well. Dad kept everything and wrote down everything. I found a listing of every person who tipped him over the years and the dollar amount they tipped. He treated his customers well - inside door delivery, hang papers on door handle for easy access, delivery by a certain time, etc. He took care of his customers.
Delivery of the paper ended in the Spring of 2014, and not by his choice. To occupy his time and give him a purpose to get out of his apartment, he started coming to my house in the early mornings and we walked around my neighborhood, several blocks in the beginning and the route changed frequently, then have coffee on my deck. Rain, snow, sleet or shine, we walked, talked and topped it off with coffee. He always said, “if you walk one step in front of the rain drop or snow flake you won’t get wet Marie.” He would point out the houses he roofed, share memories of what used to be in the neighborhood back in the 40s, 50s, and 60s, gave life advice, and talk about all the things he had done over the years. I was and still am in complete shock how I was even born. He gambled life so many times. Rough around the edges he was.
A few memories he shared while on our walks were about putting a car and himself in Gray’s Lake drag racing in the late 1950s (that story made the paper), he won the State Fair Stock Car race once (I found his name in the museum). I always wanted to check/verify his stories because as most know he was a great bs too.
January 2015 pretty much ended our long morning strolls when he had heart valve replacement surgery. We transitioned to walking down Birch Lane to SW 13th and back to my house, then enjoyed coffee on the deck and more stories or life lessons. After the remodel at Fort DSM park was completed, we would go out and walk the paths on the weekends and holidays. We never walked the complete trail because it was too much, but we would take it in segments. His favorite path led to a chair swing that provided a great view of the park. Then we would come back to my house for coffee and more life lessons.
August 28, 2019 was our last Ft DSM walk. It became too much for his sore legs and knees. We continued to walk Birch Lane, not every day and not the full way. Then winter hit and that was the end of our walking but not our coffee, bird watching, pets walking their humans, people watching or just enjoying everything about the morning.
During all this time Dad drove to my house every morning. Dec 5, 2020 was our last coffee as he rapidly started to decline. January 5th, he moved in with me and our walking routine changed to walking from the bedroom to the living room, but coffee was no more.
I so enjoyed these coffee dates with my Dad, it was a way to get him out of his apartment and for me to check on him without him knowing. He would call me every morning to let me know he was on his way over (I even have a special ringtone just for him – WARNING WARNING BS Alert!). This was my heads-up to get the deck ready for our coffee date or if it was too cold (below 40) get the TV on.
Dad today was our last walk together. I have been waiting for your call to let me know you are in route.

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