Tim Schrandt, 63, of Spillville, died Friday, March 29, 2019, at Gundersen Health System in La Crosse, Wis., after a short battle with cancer. A funeral service is at 11 a.m., Thursday, April 4, at the St. Wenceslaus Catholic Church in Spillville, with Deacon Pat Malanaphy presiding. Burial is in the church cemetery, with full military rites. Visitation was from 3 to 7 p.m. Wednesday, April 3, at the St. Wenceslaus Catholic Church in Spillville, and continues after 10 a.m. at the Church Thursday morning.



Tim ‘Lynyrd’ Schrandt made his last inappropriate comment March 29, 2019. If you are wondering if you may have ever met him, you didn't – because you WOULD remember. For those of you that did meet him, we apologize, as we're sure he probably offended you. He was world renowned for not holding back and telling it like it is.



Tim was born to William (Bill) Schrandt and Mary (Malanaphy Schrandt) Manning June 11, 1955 – 100 years too late. Given Tim's demeanor he would have been the perfect weathered cowboy in the old west or a rough-and-tough pioneer, or maybe he just should have been Amish.



Tim was the fourth of eight kids, the bottom rung of the top tier (the big kids). Instead of taking his place on that rung, listening to the older kids and doing as he was told by his older siblings, he decided to anoint himself "king" of the four little kids. Tim spent his childhood and early adulthood ordering them around and, in general, tormenting them. He was a great orator (not like Shakespeare, but more like Yogi Berra), as he always had something to say and always had to get in the last word.



His position as "king" and orator was challenged by the nuns at St. Wenceslaus school in Spillville. He may have met his match. We’re not saying the nuns won, but they put up a good fight. We mean literally – he got into a fist-a-cuff with a nun. In fairness, she probably started it. You didn't take a swing at Tim and not expect one back. Tim's fondness for authority (his own, not others) followed him to South Winneshiek High School in Calmar and later into the Army. This provided for many interesting episodes and stories, detentions and demotions, and a few "run ins" with the law – not just locally, but globally.



Tim worked at Camcar/Stanley Black and Decker in Decorah as a tool and die maker for 30-plus years. Tim worked with many friends and “a bunch of morons.” His words, not ours. Well, not exactly his words – because that would have included a bunch of swearing.



Tim leaves behind a hell of a lot of stuff that his family doesn't know what to do with. So, if you are looking for a Virgin Mary in a bathtub shrine (you Catholics know what we’re talking about) you should wait the appropriate amount of time and get in touch with them.



Tomorrow would be fine.



In addition to his stuff he leaves behind two great boys of whom he was extremely proud: Cody (Jenny) Schrandt and Josh (Lydia) Schrandt were the product of his marriage to Crystal Hilmer. He will be missed by his two granddaughters whom he adored and taught to cuss, Peyton and MacKenna. Also left to keep the stories alive (but damn, there won’t be any new material) are his mother, Mary Manning and siblings: Mike (Rita Dixon) Schrandt, Marty (Clint) Berg, Becky Schrandt-Miles, Bill ‘Grease' Schrandt, Pam (Rick) Barnes and Peter (Sandra) Schrandt; and many nieces, nephews and cousins who wanted to hang out near him, because you just knew he was going to say or do something good. It’s not that he was such a great storyteller – it’s that he WAS the story!



To his siblings’ amazement he was actually able to snag a good woman, Cheryl Murray, and hold onto her for the past 13 years; and as far as we know, restraints were not used. Tim also created great memories and stories for Cheryl’s kids, Alex (Christina) Murray and Samantha (Evan) Ludeking; and grandkids, Tatum and Grace.



He will be having a reunion with his infant daughter, Ashley; his brother, Duke; his dad, Bill Schrandt; many aunts and uncles and a handful of cousins that passed before him. Tim was in charge of getting the beer and ice for our family reunions, so they will be happy to see him.



A common line in obituaries is “He never met a stranger.” In Tim’s case: He never met a rule he couldn’t break, a boundary he couldn’t push, a line he couldn’t cross and a story he couldn’t stretch. Another common obituary phrase is “He’d give the shirt off his back”; well Tim was prepared to do that, and he could do it quickly – because he always wore his shirts unbuttoned ¾ of the way down. Tim was anything but common!



Despite his crusty exterior, cutting remarks and stubbornness, there is actual evidence that he was a loving, giving and caring person. That evidence is the deep sorrow and pain in our hearts, that his family feels from his passing.



Tim led a good life and had a peaceful death; but the transition was a bitch. And for the record, he did not lose his battle with cancer. When he died, the cancer died – so technically, it was a tie! He was ready to meet his Maker, we're just not sure "The Maker" is ready to meet Tim.



Good luck God!



We are considering establishing a Go-Fund-Me account for G. Heileman Brewing Co., the brewers of Old Style beer, as we anticipate they are about to experience significant hardship as a result of the loss of Tim's business. Keep them in your thoughts.

