Rick Robert Hoffman

If there’s one thing we know for certain, it’s that Rick Robert Hoffman never did anything halfway. Whether it was learning to play a new instrument, mastering a craft, or pulling off the perfect prank, Rick lived with curiosity, passion, and a mischievous twinkle in his eye from the moment he was born on March 10, 1952, until his passing on February 7, 2025.

Rick was the kind of person who could pick up a trombone in high school, then decide that wasn’t enough and go on to teach himself piano and guitar. He didn’t just cook—he explored flavors from around the world, crafting dishes that left his family in awe (though his steaks will forever be the undisputed favorite). And when he took up candle-making, stained glass artistry, and welding, he didn’t stop at just making something nice—he created beautiful, meaningful pieces, including custom brass wind chimes for Ylita and Julianne, each tuned to a specific key tone.

Even as a toddler, Rick had an insatiable curiosity. He would wander over a mile from home to investigate construction sites, much to the dismay of his mother, who frequently found workers returning him to the front door with a polite but firm request to keep him away from their projects. That curiosity never left him. As an adult, he pursued education throughout his life, attending college four different times to expand his knowledge. He tried his hand at scuba diving in the Caribbean, snow skiing (with mixed results), and even took up golf just to spend more time with his father.

Rick was a scientist at heart. Space, physics, and the mysteries of the universe fascinated him, and he could talk for hours about Stephen Hawking, black holes, and the wonders of the cosmos. He loved sharing these conversations, always eager to discuss new ideas, theories, and discoveries.

But Rick was also a prankster at heart. He found endless joy in pulling off gags—whether it was a well-placed whoopee cushion, a strategically positioned fake can of spilled beer, or, in one particularly memorable moment, proving beyond a doubt that flatulent gas is, in fact, flammable (and promptly requiring assistance to put out the fire on his jeans).

Despite never earning a formal degree, Rick built an impressive career in the semiconductor industry, using his mechanical genius to repair complex machines. He was living proof that passion, ingenuity, and determination could take you anywhere.

He was preceded in death by his father, Robert Lewis Hoffman; his mother, Ylita Yvonne Hoffman; his sister, Carla Funderburk; and his nephews, Tom and Albert Funderburk. He is survived by his sister, Julianne Hoffman; his nephew, Roy Funderburk; and his niece, Alicia Pierpont, all of whom will forever cherish his love, his laughter, and his legendary mischief.

Among the many memories that will be retold for years to come, one stands out: Rick took his mom, dad, and sister to their very first Renaissance Festival, unknowingly igniting a lifelong love of the event in his sister. And then, of course, there was the time a much younger sibling, always on the losing end of their wrestling matches, finally (and accidentally) bested him at age 18. Rick, in his wisdom, never wrestled her again.

Rick was a dreamer, a maker, a prankster, and a fiercely intelligent, endlessly curious soul. He leaves behind a lifetime of stories, laughter, and love—and if there’s a Renaissance Festival in the afterlife, you can bet he’s already there, debating physics, playing the trombone, and cooking up something.