Marion L. Bliss

Marion L. Bliss of Oblong, IL, passed away on August 5, 2026, at Marshall Rehabilitation and Nursing in Marshall. He came into the world on July 29, 1946, in Robinson, and he spent the next 80 years refusing to stand still. He was raised on the family farm outside of Oblong, where he and his siblings milked cows before the school day started and his father sang his way through the chores. He attended Dogwood School, where he once went so high on a swing that he flipped all the way over the bar. He never did learn to do a thing halfway. As a boy, he ran through 4-H and FFA and hardly ever sat down, that is, unless he was parked on the steps keeping watch for his big brother Joe to come back from wherever he'd been.

After he graduated Oblong High School in 1964, Marion went looking for work and never really stopped finding it. He worked a stretch at the Ettelbrick Shoe Factory—riding to work with his mother—then learned the grocery trade under Ed Brock, whose store in Palestine set him up to help open one in Robinson. It was there, learning the business, that he met Marsha Lankston. Her mother was training him for the work, and though Marsha was dating someone else at the time, she took one look at Marion and set her course. "I'm going to marry that dude...watch me." And that's exactly what she did on July 3, 1971.

When the Robinson grocery closed, Marion moved to Gallo's Red & White. No matter where he was earning a paycheck, he kept helping his family work the farm. He eventually landed in the oil field, first with Marathon Production, then with a whole run of other producers over the years. He dearly loved being on a pulling rig, and he got out to the field in an old car the family called "The Green Hornet." It served him well, mouse and all, because at some point, a live mouse got into it and rode along with him for the duration!

Somewhere in all of that, he took on work as a substitute janitor for Oblong Unit #4 schools, and before long, he was there full time. He may have been the best janitor Oblong ever had, though the administration did fuss at him now and then for going through too much bleach. He loved those kids, and they loved him right back. If one of them turned up having forgotten a book, Marion was the man who'd let them back into the building. He kept at it until the day he fell off a trailer and hurt his neck. What followed was a long stretch of surgeries and nerve damage that finally forced the retirement his body had been demanding for years.

If anyone thought retirement would finally sit Marion down, they didn't know him that well. He never let dust settle, and he aimed all that restlessness at home. He tended his trees, took pride in every inch of his yard, and mowed like it was a calling, washing and waxing the mower after each and every session. Even a new hip couldn't hold him down. Once he'd healed up, he took to walking into town, and he got to where he could make it clear to the high school on foot. Rain didn't stop him either. When his legs finally gave out, he'd phone Marsha to say he was done in, and she'd come and get him.

If anything on this earth could get Marion to be still, it was his grandsons. He lived for those boys. He'd sit right down in the middle of the Legos and the play-dough and the toy trains with Emerson, Everhett, and Emmett, and when their mother was buried under the thises and thats of a busy day, he'd turn up to play with them so she could breathe. Other times, he'd carry a lawn chair out into the yard and do nothing at all but watch them. For a man who never sat still, that was its own kind of devotion.

The lawn chair wasn't the only place that devotion showed up. It also showed up in a dog named Maggie. He'd never really had much use for pets, but she was another matter entirely. Maggie was the sister to Cody and Lacey's dog, and he'd brought her home after watching theirs while they were on their honeymoon. He spoiled her without shame—putting AC in the breezeway just for her—and she repaid him by never leaving his side. She sat with him while he mowed, rode along wherever he went, and knew a run to town meant a cheeseburger for her and a coffee for him.

He ran on coffee, hot or cold, all day long. The smoothies came with a mid-life health kick, and so did the blueberries. He'd drive down to Benson's, spend the whole day, and haul home a hundred pounds of them. He was a fruit man through and through and liked his dark chocolate as dark as it would go, all in the name of health. And he didn't just eat for it; he worked for it. He kept weights at home, and even after a long day's work, he'd come in and pump iron. When he did slow down, it was for a western movie, and there was always room in his life for an Allis-Chalmers tractor (the make he'd run for years) and a good tractor pull when one came to town.

He'd gone back to school as a grown man, taking classes at Lincoln Trail College, where a knack for writing earned him an award. It was there he wrote a paper about his father's Alzheimer's, not knowing he would come to know the disease from the inside. The change came slowly. Over his last few years, the coffee that had fueled him gave way to Diet Coke, one small sign among many that Marion was slipping from himself. Even then, the man who drew people to him hadn't lost the knack. At Marshall Nursing and Rehab, he found two special caregivers, Heather and Crystal, whom he called "Granny" and "Lucy" (for reasons nobody ever quite figured out). He loved them, and they loved him as their own Poppy, the best boy ever.

The illness was only the ending, not the man. Marion was life itself, all smile and motion and mischief. Every ordinary day was a gift to him, and every ordinary day with him was a gift to us.

He is survived by his wife of 55 years, Marsha Bliss; his sons, Toby Bliss of Centralia, IL and Cody (Lacey) Bliss of Oblong, IL; his grandsons, Emerson, Everhett, and Emmett Bliss, all of Oblong, IL; his sister-in-law, Evie Bliss of Oblong, IL; his nieces and nephew, Michelle (Johnny) Neeley, David (Amy) Goff, Kara (Scott) Price, and Kristy Gullett; and several great-nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his son, Todd Michael Bliss, in infancy; his parents, Emerson and Mildred Bliss; his parents-in-law, Bud and Ruth Lankston; his sisters, Beverley (Earl) Goff and Judy (Byron) Gullett; his brother, Joe Bliss; his brother-in-law, Pee Wee Lankston; and his nephew, Shawn Lankston.

A time of visitation will be held from 11:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. on Tuesday, August 11th, at the Goodwine Funeral Home in Robinson. Considering that Marion wasn't much for dressing up, the family requests that attendees come dressed casually. Immediately following the visitation, a funeral service officiated by Joe Cunningham will be held at 1:00 p.m. During the service, family and friends will be given the opportunity to share their thoughts and memories of times shared with this dear man. For those unable to attend, a live stream of the service will be available at https://www.goodwinefuneralhomes.com/live-stream/live-stream. Memorial contributions may be made to either the Crawford County 4-H and Extension Foundation or to Transitions Hospice, with envelopes available at the funeral home. Burial will be in the Oblong Cemetery.