William Richard Gouty, II

William Richard Gouty II — “Bill” Gouty

On July 3, 2025, in the early hours of a beautiful summer day, William Richard Gouty II (Bill) passed into the light of the Lord, his devoted wife, Missi, by his side and his loyal dogs at his feet.

Bill’s mother, Shirley Rickgauer, and his father, Bill Gouty, were Danvillians who married and then followed his dad’s job around the country. Because of a drinking problem, his dad was unable to hold steady work and relocated the family dozens of times.

After being moved around 32 times in 14 years, Bill decided he would NEVER move his family from state to state. He swore he’d put down roots. When forty acres he had hunted and fished on as a young man came up for auction, he bought it. He planted trees. Raised boys. Built three homes. Carved fountains. Designed gardens. And rooted himself in the city he loved for more than sixty years.

Bill was a builder, in every sense. He built houses and businesses, gardens and friendships, a marriage that became a masterpiece. He built a life defined by strength, boldness, complexity, and love. He worked hard — harder than anyone you’ve probably met.

He loved with a passion even fiercer than his work ethic. It did, however, take him until he was fifty to master the art of marriage. He was married to Debbie Greer, the mother of three of his children, for twenty-one years. His second wife, Cauleen Gouty, and mother of his fourth son, died at the age of 32 from breast cancer — a loss that devastated Bill and sent him spiraling. He eventually recovered and found happiness, fulfillment, and joy with his wife, Missi.

He was a gunsmith, tool-and-die maker, contractor, archer, dog whisperer, rock fountain artist, gardener, and co-founder of Threads of Time Creative Sewing and Retreat Center. A national archery champion. A quiet romantic who cried every single time he watched The Notebook. A man who couldn’t carry a tune or clap on beat, but who could name every bird at the feeder and every flower in the yard. He built a life full of contradictions — and joy.

Bill was not always easy, and he’d be the first to admit it. He had a temper, a salty tongue, and the absolute conviction that he was right and everyone else was wrong. But over time, he matured. He learned. He softened. Loved deeper. Laughed more. Cried at Hallmark movies. Became the kind of man people called “the best version of himself.” People said he was the “Best Bill” when he was with her.

Near the end of his life, he wanted to make sure his boys knew he was sorry for his impatience and harsh words when they were growing up — and that, no matter what mistakes he made, his love for them never faltered.

In his final days, as the disease called PSP took his ability to walk, move, or sit up, Bill never complained. He was thoughtful, intentional, and generous — donating his brain to research so someone else might suffer less. He loved God and frequently repeated that he was ready to leave this world and go “Home.”

He leaves behind Missi, his beloved wife of twenty-three years; his sons, Billy (Ginger) of New Smyrna Beach, Florida; Clint of Danville; Colt (Cinnamon) of Danville; and Tyler (Tina) of Fort Wayne; his stepdaughters, Katie (John-Fielding) Myers and Cassie (Justin) Cox; along with grandchildren and great-grandchildren, a well-loved garden, two beloved dogs, and a community of people whose lives he shaped — sometimes with power tools, sometimes with physical labor, sometimes with humor, always with heart.

Bill’s story would not be complete without acknowledging the role of Hospice in making his last months more comfortable. It takes a special gift from God to work closely and intimately with patients and families, knowing all the while that they will not survive. Yet Hospice workers do it day after day, offering knowledge, medical oversight, and emotional counsel. They not only walked with us “through the valley of the shadow of death,” but held our hands until they couldn’t go any further.

We cannot say enough good things about the nurses who saw us. We especially want to thank Tanya Sullivan, our nurse for more than a year. She cared for us lovingly and devotedly, going far above the call of duty. Our hearts are full of gratitude. We grew to love her and count her as a friend. We also want to thank Aamina, the social worker who provided us with our last vacation to the St. Louis Botanical Gardens through the Dream Foundation, and who made several visits to our home, helping with medical records, Bill’s brain donation, and emotional support.

If you wish to pay respects to Bill, please join us at his Celebration of Life at Second Church of Christ in Danville on Saturday, July 12. Visitation will be from 10:00 to 12:00, with a memorial service at noon.

We do not need gifts, but if flowers are your love language, three family members work for Blossom Basket Florist in Urbana — that would be our florist of choice.

If you’re inclined to honor Bill’s memory in a tangible way, consider a donation to the Dream Foundation, an organization that helped grant his final travel wish. Learn more at www.dreamfoundation.org.

And give thanks that Bill is no longer in pain or immobile, but now walking in the glorious light of the Lord.

Online condolences: www.rortvedtfuneralservices.com.

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