- Date Of Birth: July 31, 1942
- Date Of Death: December 19, 2017
- State: Montana
Joe was born to William Stimpson and Ruth Richards Stimpson on July 31, 1942, in Livingston. He moved to Butte soon after and always regretted that he wasn’t born in Butte, where he was raised. He loved and was deeply proud of his Butte heritage. Joe graduated from Butte High School in 1960. He was an accomplished skier and was the Montana ski jumping champion in 1960. He spent four years in the Marine Corps in the 2nd Force Recon, which he claimed was the best education he could have received.
After his years of service, he met his wife, Ellen Royston, “Ellie,” in Arlington, Virginia, and told her the night they met that he was going to marry her. They were married seven months later in July 1966, and celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary in 2016. She was his life partner in all their international adventures. They lived in Butte from 1966 to 1975, where their three children were born. In 1975, Joe took a job in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, where he worked for 15 years. In 1980, he started his own company, Delmon Oilfield Supply Company. He later worked in Mexico, Louisiana, Baku and the Philippines. He returned to Montana in 1998 and consulted until his retirement. He had an exciting and adventurous life and left behind friends in every place he lived. His family was well loved and always first and that was his greatest success. He proudly called himself “Professional Grandfather Aka Poppers” (and handed out his business card as proof).
He was preceded in death by his parents, Ruth and William, his brother Bob Fellows, and nephew Bill Fellows.
He is survived by his wife, Ellie; and three children, Stephanie (David) of Calgary, Staci (Robbe) of Missoula, and Billy (Jaime) of Portland; and seven grandchildren who adored their “Poppy,” Ellie, Parker, Kate, Cole, Lauren, Karley and Joe; and his sisters, Mary Ann (Larry) Wilson and Sue Morley, and numerous nieces and nephews.
This quote summed up Joe’s approach to life; it was a quote he loved and sent to family and friends many years ago:
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, “Wow! What a Ride!” (by Hunter S. Thompson)
