Ronald James Lamansky was born September 12th, 1956, with a hanky in his back pocket, a pair of vise grips in another pocket, and a hat with the logo of the company whose seed corn he was going to plant the following spring. Ron passed in his sleep on January 29th, 2026 with Westerns on the TV – like he was used to watching when he was at home. Most people knew him as Ron, but we knew him as Dad, and that is how we will refer to him from this point on. His grandson, Lincoln, would tell you that “Paca” would also be acceptable.
Dad was one of seven children born to H. Roy and Beverly (Dory) Lamansky. Dad grew up on the family farm near the sprawling metropolis of Pleasant Plain, Iowa. Dad learned young to wake up early, work hard, fix about anything with a piece of wire from the back of his truck, and predict the weather… most of the time. Later in life, he continued the hard work of farming and also construction but found enough time to raise a family, spoil grandchildren, and hone the fine art of taking a nap in his favorite chair. These naps were always aided by an old, worn-out, dilapidated pillow over his head to drown out whatever was going on in the living room at the time, including a family Christmas one year. Dad continued to farm, enjoy his family, and nap until a sudden recent illness stopped him from playing in the dirt and forced him to lie in it.
Dad participated in 4-H and FFA and somehow found time to be an outstanding athlete in football and wrestling at Fairfield High School. His dedication both on the field and on the mat earned him recognition and numerous awards. One of his three daughters was talented enough to carry on the family tradition of being an outstanding athlete, while his other children were satisfied with their collection of participation awards, lack of athletic ability, and one science fair win.
Dad married Christe Olson on May 25th,1985, in Fairfield, Iowa. They celebrated their 40th year together last year. His children are still trying to figure out how they put up with each other for that long. During the time(s) they were able to put up with each other, they became the proud owners/parents of three new daughters and one pre-owned son with, at that time, low mileage.
Dad contributed to proper child-rearing by ensuring his daughters knew how to eat ice cream from a spoon before other age-appropriate solid foods. This is probably why all his daughters have digestive issues, lactose intolerance, and probably the reason that one of them had to have their gall bladder removed.
Dad didn’t buy the grandchildren a horse, he WAS their horse. There were times Dad couldn’t assume the horsey position fast enough, and one of the kiddo’s would have their arms around his neck, already hanging on for dear life. Dad would then flail his arms, like a stallion in the wild, giving the full experience. Come to find out, Dad was receiving the full experience of being choked out by a three-year-old, and it wasn’t part of the act. We also found out that if you close your eyes while Dad was giving his ride, the sound of his knees popping on the floor sounded almost like a shod horse on concrete.
Dad didn’t know a stranger. If you took him somewhere and he wandered off, he could usually be found talking about just about anything with someone he had just befriended five minutes earlier. Dad was always willing to help someone in need or loan them anything they needed… if he could find it or remember who he had loaned it to several years ago. He was once even seen offering his hanky to someone in need. We really hope it was clean.
Dad was not a fancy dresser. His Sunday best (which he wore every day) almost always consisted of a T-shirt and any pair of denim pants with a thigh pocket for his vise grips and a back pocket for his hanky. And if it was cold out, Dad added to his wardrobe by wearing a long-sleeved shirt under his short-sleeved T-shirt, not over it, as most people would. Then there were the occasions when he would deviate from his everyday wardrobe and wear shorts, accented by knee-high white tube socks that matched his white legs and, wait for it, brown open-toe sandals. He usually wore this ensemble, yup, you guessed it, when we took him somewhere, and he wandered off and found a new friend to talk to.
Left to honor and cherish Dad’s life and memory are his wife Christe (yes this how it is spelled), his children and spouses: Cady (athlete) and Richard McCarty of Richland, Iowa; Cara (participation award recipient) and Josh Beck of Cedar Rapids, Iowa; Cala (participation award recipient) and Jerred Leonard of Fairfield, Iowa; Cody (science fair winner) and Kim McCoy of Ottumwa, Iowa and his grandchildren; Madilyn and Eleanora “Rabbit” McCarty; Owen and June Beck; Lincoln and Lyla Leonard; and Quinn, Kaelin, and Kinnick McCoy. And of course we can’t forget Dad’s loyal varmint locating dog, Turbo. It is hard to believe the loyalty that Turbo continued to give after Dad accidentally grazed Turbo’s ear with an errant round during an impromptu varmint removal party at 2 AM.
Dad, thanks for being ours…we will love you forever!
Visitation for family and friends will be from 3:00 p.m. – 6:00 p.m. Wednesday, February 4th, 2026 at Behner Funeral Home in Fairfield. A Celebration of Life will be held Thursday, February 5th 5:00 – 7:00 p.m. at The Elks Lodge in Fairfield. Memorials may be made to the family and sent to 2565-122nd St. Fairfield, Iowa 52556.
