Bill Larrabee

Bill Larrabee, 89, of Oblong, IL, passed away on Saturday, April 19, 2026, at Ridgeview Care Center in Oblong.

He was born on June 10, 1936, at home in Oblong, to John Otho "Ott" & Essie (Metheny) Larrabee. Bill grew up in Oblong with a reputation for being ornery, and he wore it well. By high school, he had earned the nickname "Wild Bill," and anyone who knew him understood that it fit. He was a standout athlete at Oblong High School, named MVP of the football team, and talented enough to receive recruiting interest from the University of Alabama and draw attention from the Chicago Bears. It was at Oblong High that he met Rowena Kessler. She asked him to go to the roller rink, he said yes, and the rest was history. They married on November 22, 1956. She was 18, he was 20, and she would be the love of his life for nearly seventy years.

After high school, Bill went to work at Newbold’s Hardware Store in Oblong. From there, he bought and ran a Shell gas station, then worked at Kirkland's Lumber Yard and ran a trash-hauling business for a number of years. He was not a man who stayed still for long, and that was true across every season of his life. When their children were young, he and Rowena moved the family to Garden Grove, CA, where they lived for twelve years. He worked for DyChem, a chemical company involved in offshore drilling. Eventually, they decided to come home to Oblong. Bill picked up right where he left off, working in the oil field, then at Briggs Pottery, then at the IQP chicken plant, then as a janitor at a bank, and finally in home construction alongside his son-in-law, Eddy, at Mehler Construction. He moved through jobs the way he moved through life: with energy, without hesitation, and always ready for the next thing.

And through it all, there was the strength. Bill Larrabee was, by all accounts, the strongest man most people had ever met. He was strong naturally and worked at getting stronger. The family tells of a time traffic was stopped on the freeway because someone was pinned beneath a car. Bill walked up, lifted the car, and freed them. He told the story like it was nothing. He once picked up a 55-gallon drum of oil and threw it over his shoulder. When he came home from work each day, he would throw little Shanna so high in the air that it made your stomach drop just watching. He could outsprint his grandsons until he was seventy-five years old. He was, by all accounts, a freak of nature. That strength was tested in a serious way when a racing accident left him with a severe head injury. He had driven race cars for his father-in-law, and the wreck was bad enough that he had to relearn how to walk and talk. But Bill was not a man who stayed down. He came back from it the way he came back from everything: stubborn and unbroken. On the job site, he bled almost daily and never seemed to notice. His family wondered if the accident had dulled his ability to feel pain. Bill had a simpler explanation: "No brain, no pain."

To those who knew him around town, Bill could come across as a tough guy, and he was. He was fierce in his protection, unafraid of standing up for his family, and built in a way that made people take notice. But to his family, he was every bit as soft as he was tough. He was a teddy bear with the bluest eyes you ever saw. He picked up his grandsons from school every single day until they were old enough to drive themselves, and he never once turned on the radio, because he wanted to talk to them. He drove them around town in his green Oldsmobile, pointing out who lived where and what they did for a living, making sure they understood the place they came from. He knew all of it because he was genuinely interested in people. He didn't know a stranger. But if he couldn't place someone, he would come up boldly and ask, "Who are you, and who are your parents?" and would keep at it until he figured out how they were connected. He found those connections everywhere, like at the Oblong Masonic Lodge and the Oblong Baptist Church, where he belonged for years.

The twilight years of his life found Bill driving around town and out to Hardinville to check on his farmground. He drove so much that he was changing his oil every three weeks and wore through more brake pads than anyone cared to count! The man simply could not sit still, which is why he mowed his yard every two days, well past the point where he could tell what he was mowing.  The closest Bill ever came to slowing down was settling in to watch sports. The Boston Celtics, the Chicago Bears, the St. Louis Cardinals—he followed them all. But nothing in this world brought Bill Larrabee more joy than his family. What he leaves behind is not just a collection of stories, though the stories are rich. It’s the protective love he wrapped around them every day of his life. That love is in them now. And so is his strength. The strength to get back up, to keep moving, to live as he did. And because Bill trusted in Jesus, the family he loved and protected can rest in this: the life they remember has not ended. It has simply gone home.

He is survived by his wife, Rowena Larrabee; his children, Shanna & Eddy Mehler and Monte Larrabee; grandchildren, Tres & Lessy Mehler and Koert & Sarah Mehler; his great-granddaughter, Izzy Mehler; and several nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his parents; two sisters, Linda Bonnell and Elizabeth Garrett; and two brothers, William Jack Larrabee (in infancy) and John Franklin Larrabee.

A graveside service will be held at 10:30 a.m. on Wednesday, April 22nd, at the Oblong Cemetery, with Pastor Phil Boyd officiating. Memorial contributions may be made to the Crawford County Humane Society, with envelopes available at the cemetery.

The Goodwine Funeral Home in Robinson is assisting the family at this time.