This is an illustrative example. Robert L. Hayes is a fictional person, written to show how a LastingFarewells memorial reads.  Back to LastingFarewells
RLH

Robert L. Hayes

1948 — 2026

“Measure twice.”

Kept by his children and grandchildren
Their story
Born
October 4, 1948 · Sedalia, MO
Passed
May 2, 2026 · Sedalia, MO
He was
A machinist for 38 years

Bob Hayes was born in Sedalia and buried in Sedalia, and in between he left exactly twice — once for the Army, and once for a week in Branson in 1994 that he described afterward as “fine.”

He was drafted in 1968 and served two years, most of it as a mechanic. He didn’t talk about it. When his grandson asked him directly, at sixteen, he said, “I fixed trucks. Somebody had to,” and then asked whether the boy had checked his oil lately. That was the end of it.

He came home and went to work at the rail shop, where he stayed thirty-eight years. He was a machinist, which he would want stated plainly, because he had strong opinions about people who called themselves engineers without the papers. He could hold a tolerance by feel. Younger men would bring him work to check and he would turn it over twice in his hands and hand it back and say what was wrong with it, and he was right.

Around the neighborhood he was the first call. Mowers, storm doors, a dishwasher that walked across the floor, a bicycle chain, a furnace at eleven at night in January. He never took money. He would accept a beer, or a plate of something, or nothing.

He could not tell you he loved you. He could rebuild the transmission in your first car over a weekend and hand you the keys without a word, and you would know.

He married Diane Kessler in 1971 and they had three children and, eventually, six grandchildren, all of whom learned to hand him tools before they learned to ride bikes. He kept a coffee can of drill bits on the bench that no one was permitted to reorganize. It is still there. It has been left alone.

He is survived by Diane; his children Michael, Sharon Hayes Delgado, and Kevin; six grandchildren; and his brother Wayne. He was preceded in death by his parents, Lowell and Marjorie Hayes, and by his daughter-in-law Anne.

The whistle down the driveway

Two notes, always the same two, when he was coming up the drive or heading down to the garage. His kids could hear it from inside the house with the television on. His grandchildren learned it without being taught. Several of them have caught themselves doing it since May, in parking lots, and had to stop for a minute.

Service

Where we will gather

Funeral service

Rea Funeral Chapel
Sedalia, Missouri
Saturday, May 9, 2026 · 10:00 in the morning

Interment

Crown Hill Cemetery, Sedalia, with military honors. His unit is listed on the stone at his own instruction, in small letters, on the back.

Ways to honor Bob

If you’d like to do something

A veterans’ fund

He never used the services himself and thought that was beside the point. Any fund that helps a veteran keep a vehicle running would suit him.

Give to veterans

A trade scholarship

He believed the country was short on people who could actually make a thing. A scholarship to a technical school would please him more than flowers.

Fund a trade student

Fix something

Genuinely. Somebody on your street has a broken storm door. Go do it and don’t take money for it. That’s the whole eulogy.

Go do it
Memory wall

What people remember

Every memory is read by the family before it appears here.

When I was nineteen I blew the engine in my truck being stupid, and I was terrified to tell him. He came out, looked at it, and said, ‘Well. Now you’ll learn how one goes together.’ We spent four Saturdays on it. He never brought up how it happened. Not once, ever, for thirty years.

Kevin Hayes · Son

He walked me down the aisle and told me, right before the doors opened, ‘He seems all right.’ Twenty-two years later I still think that’s the nicest thing he ever said about anyone.

Sharon Hayes Delgado · Daughter

January of ‘09, furnace quit, eleven at night, twelve below. He was in my basement in twenty minutes wearing a coat over his pajamas. Wouldn’t take a dime. Said if I told anybody he’d deny it.

Ray Tolliver · Neighbor, 41 years

He taught me to drive a stick in the church parking lot on a Sunday afternoon. I stalled it maybe forty times. He read the paper the entire time and didn’t say anything except ‘again.’

Tyler Delgado · Grandson

Fifty-four years and I never once had to ask him twice for anything. He’d just go do it, usually before I finished asking. I’m still setting out two cups.

Diane Hayes · Wife, 54 years

First week on the job I brought him a part I was proud of. He turned it over twice and handed it back and said ‘three thousandths.’ He was right. Took me a year to be able to do that.

Marcus Webb · Apprentice, rail shop

He’d think a page on the internet was a foolish thing to make for a man. He’d also have read every word of it, twice, and never mentioned that he did. So it stays.

— Diane, Michael, Sharon, Kevin, and the grandkids
This memorial will remain here, tended by the family, for as long as Bob is remembered.
LastingFarewells — where their story stays