Delford Rankin Obituary (1950

Delford Rankin was known by many names: Del, Delford, Delbert, Duder, Uncle D, Gramps, Pop, but for me, he was Pops. He also had funny nicknames for all his favorite people; mine was Smiley. Probably because, as a kid, I was always smiling and laughing. He was, too! I think his very favorite pastime was laughing. If you knew Pops, I bet you could close your eyes and remember a time he was laughing so hard, face all red, eyes tearing up, belly shaking up and down with nary a sound coming out of his mouth except for him wheezing for air, right?! He had the best giggle. Even if you didn’t know what he was laughing about, you’d start laughing too, just watching him laugh so hard until he could barely breathe! Pops grew up in Pateros, WA, and graduated from Pateros HS in 1969. He was drafted into the Army and served as a mechanic in Vietnam. My brother Bobby and I came along in the mid-70s. In the 80’s, he worked for orchards in the area, followed by a semi-retirement as a groundskeeper in Black Canyon. He spent a good 30 years there in a modest cabin surrounded by flowers, hummingbirds, Ponderosa pines, a babbling creek, and the best neighbors anyone could ask for. They affectionately called him “The Mayor of Black Canyon” and have since dubbed his old cabin “Del’s Cabin”. I do believe that was his favorite place on Earth, besides toolin’ around the back country roads where he taught my brother and me how to drive. If there was a dirt road and a picnic to be had, he was always game to ride along. This guy loved a good prank and was always telling jokes. He was a jumpy son of a gun, too! If by chance you caught him off guard, if he didn’t see or hear you coming, you were likely to scare the bejeebers out of him. And then he would cuss you out, followed by a fit of laughter by all involved. C’mon, if you know, you know! He’d want you to laugh right now, too! I would be remiss if I didn’t share the greatest prank Bobby and I ever pulled off. Well, almost the greatest, but the most memorable one for sure. This took place in the mid-90s when we lived with Pops during high school. He had been working outside on a hot Spring day and came in to clean up in the bathroom. The light switch was on the outside of the bathroom wall, and Bobby and I turned it off and got really quiet. Then we hollered, “Hey! You forgot to pay the electric bill!” as we snickered to ourselves. A moment or two of silence went by, and he pipes up, “Well, how come the radio’s still playin’?” in his random southern drawl voice. Man, oh man, did we ever laugh! Speaking of that southern drawl he spoke with… nobody knows where it came from. Maybe he picked it up in Army boot camp down South because his parents didn’t talk like that. Their accents were different, from West Virginia and Arkansas, and not as strong. Nevertheless, Pops spoke like an old country boy, and that was one of his endearing characteristics. He’d wave like a maniac out his truck window with a big ‘ol grin on his face if you passed each other on the road, because he never forgot a rig or who drove it. A real practical joker, he’d honk and turn his truck off and on real quick to make it backfire loudly while driving, and holler “Merry Christmas!!” no matter the time of year. He was known for his “stylish” outfits, too! He’d make his own cut-off jean shorts with a pocketknife that we jokingly called “Daisy Dukes” and wear well-loved flannel shirts with a pack of raw hot dogs in the chest pocket. You remember now, don’t you? Classic Del! We moved Pops from Pateros to Yakima in 2015 to keep an eye on him after a stroke made it difficult to care for himself and the grounds at Black Canyon. He lived a comfortable 7 years in a corner unit of an assisted living community with a huge picture window. He enjoyed watching his bird feeders in a grassy lawn surrounded by trees very similar to those in his home in Black Canyon. When his health declined further, we moved him to a nearby nursing home, where he was doted on by a team of nice nurses for the past 3 years. He never complained, never missed meal time, or root beer float socials. He maneuvered his wheelchair around, up and down the hallways just as well as he used to drive his old Ford trucks. Whenever we visited, he might not remember what he had for lunch, but he always recognized us. “Howdy Jen, Howdy Bob” pronounced “Ha-dee”. We’d ask, “How ya feelin’ today?” and he’d respond, “Purdy good, you out horsin’ around?” All the way up to the very end, he was feeling “purdy good”. Pops made his way to “The Big House in the Sky,” as he used to call Heaven, on April 30, 2026. To carry on his laughter and memories are myself, Jen Rankin, my boys Jorgen Arnesen and Amir Rankin, as well as my brother Bob, his wife Mirna, daughters Drew Varrelman, Olivia, and Mya Rankin. We all got his funny little smirk and great sense of humor. I think that’s one of our greatest character traits, so thanks for that, Pops! Our dear friend Betty H. said, “If everyone were as kind, honest, and cheerful as Del, the world would be much better!” Cheerful, that’s a good word for Pops, always smiling and laughing. He never had much, but he was content and proud of us. We’ll miss you, Old Fart! We’ll remember your wheezing laugh, your trucks, your collection of hubcaps, and the weird things like never learning how to swim even though you grew up surrounded by lakes and rivers, talking in your sleep, “Bobby! Get yer fishin’ pole!” and how you liked red and yeller flowers. When I say “See ya later alligator,” I can still hear you say, “After a while crocodile” in your gravelly southern drawl. ~Smiley