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Graveside services for Mr. Rodney Ralph Hildebrand, 76, of Appleby, TX, will be held at 1:00 PM, on Saturday, March 29, 2025, at Cold Springs Cemetery in Garrison, TX with Bro. David Woodard officiating. Visitation will be held from 10:00 AM til 12:00 PM, Saturday, March 29, 2025, at Garrison Funeral Home.
Rodney Ralph Hildebrand, 76, made his grand entrance into the world on April 22, 1948, in Sayre, Oklahoma. He passed on to glory on Sunday, March 23, 2025, in Nacogdoches, Texas. He was preceded in death by his parents, Jessie Ralph (Bud) and Lola Frances Hildebrand.
Rodney grew up back when kids were raised tough, roofs let in snow, and a warm night’s sleep wasn’t exactly guaranteed. His parents started their family on a farm in the Delhi Community of western Oklahoma, where they quickly learned that insulation was more of a suggestion than a requirement. Rodney is survived by sisters, Linda Chapman and husband Steve, of Houston, Texas; Pamela Bosh and husband Wayne, of Twin Falls, Idaho; and nephew and niece Jerod Bosh and Jessica Bosh and their families.
Rodney took to farm life like a duck to water—or more accurately, like a farm kid to dodging chores. He loved it all, except for chopping cotton. That became especially clear the day he ticked off his youngest sister, and she settled the dispute by taking a hoe to him. And let’s just say, her aim was true.
Life on the farm meant horses were for riding, cows were for milking (and occasionally chasing), pigs were tolerated, and dogs were trained to keep the local coyote population in check. But farm life isn’t exactly a get-rich-quick scheme, and Rodney’s parents decided they wanted more for their kids. So, they packed up and headed west to Mojave, California, where Bud had landed a job.
At 14, Rodney left behind the only life he’d ever known, convinced that nothing would ever be as good as the farm—until he discovered the joys of a paycheck. He hustled, running a paper route, flipping burgers, and working at Dollar Bill’s grocery store. But his real claim to fame? In 1964, he started a rock band, The Nobles, using his love of music to keep himself afloat through college and beyond.
Then Uncle Sam came calling. With a low draft number and a healthy set of lungs, Rodney was drafted into the U.S. Army just in time for his 20th birthday. He trained at Fort Ord, then Colorado Springs, where he developed a deep love for the mountains—despite losing a bit of feeling in his toes thanks to a run-in with frostbite.
In 1969, Vietnam became his next stop. When he landed, the higher-ups started looking for fresh recruits for the front lines. Then someone asked, “Anyone know how to type?” Rodney’s hand shot up so fast you’d think he was volunteering for free beer. Turns out, knowing your way around a keyboard could be a lifesaver—literally. Thanks to Mr. D’s typing class, Rodney spent his time in Vietnam pushing paper instead of pulling triggers.
While overseas, Rodney had been writing to a lovely girl from Sayre named Gay Murphy. When he returned home, they made things official and tied the knot on August 20, 1971. They set up shop in Southern California, welcoming two wonderful kids—Norla in 1977 and Travis in 1980. Rodney is survived by son and daughter-in-law, Travis and Megan Hildebrand of Georgetown, Texas, and daughter and son-in-law Norla and Brad Lamonte, of Peninsula, Ohio, and granddaughters Claire Elizabeth Hildebrand and Leah Marie Hildebrand, of Georgetown, Texas.
A job opportunity took the family to Nacogdoches, Texas, in 1980. After years in manufacturing, the plant shut down, and Rodney found himself in a new role: stay-at-home dad. While Gay worked as an RN, he took on the noble duty of making sure the kids were well-fed, well-loved, and well-versed in classic rock.
Life, as it does, shifted. The kids grew up, college and marriage happened, and Rodney and Gay went their separate ways. But the story wasn’t over yet.
One day, a friend invited Rodney to church. He promptly forgot the address and ended up at a church—just not that church. But as fate (or divine intervention) would have it, this was the right place after all. Enter Joyce. At first, Rodney thought she was just the friendly church greeter, but after a few weeks of smiles, hand-holding during prayer, and one very late first date (thanks to a self-inflicted car lockout), it was clear there was something more.
Rodney and Joyce made it official on December 4, 2005, kicking off an adventure filled with camping, fishing, and cross-country road trips. With their union, Rodney also became a dad to Cristy. Their travels often led them back to Colorado, a place that always held a special spot in Rodney’s heart.
Rodney’s beloved wife, Joyce Jones Hildebrand, of Nacogdoches, Texas, survives him along with bonus daughter Cristy Bunnell and her husband Bryan, of Leander, Texas, and bonus grandchildren, Peyton and Aiden Moon, of Nacogdoches, Texas, and Andrew Bunnell, of Grapeland, Texas.
Rodney’s greatest joy, though, was family. Whether it was parents and sisters, his kids, his granddaughters, his bonus family, his nieces and nephews or his in-laws, Rodney loved his people deeply.
Additional surviving family includes mother-in-law Geneva Jones, of Garrison, Texas; brother- and sister-in-law Jeff and Penny Jones, of Kilgore, Texas; sister-in-law Tammy Jones, of Garrison, Texas; nephews Justin Jones and wife Lisa, of Waxahachie, Texas; and Joshua Jones, of College Station, Texas; nieces Breanna Jones, of Garrison, Texas, and Lexie Bouse and husband William, of Fred, Texas.
And, of course, there was the music. A guitar was never far from his hands, and his ear for perfect pitch and tone was both a gift and a mild curse for Joyce, who had to endure him adjusting the car radio for every single song.
Rodney lived a full life, one filled with love, laughter, adventure, and a little bit of lucky timing. While we’ll miss him dearly, we take comfort knowing he’s joined the ultimate jam session in the sky.
And if Heaven’s got a band, you can bet Rodney’s up there tuning a guitar—probably adjusting the tone just a little bit.
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