Byron Malloch, 66, kicked the bucket on September 12, 2026, at home in Mahomet, Illinois. Born January 6, 1960, in Champaign, Illinois, Byron managed to pack those 66 years with family, hard work, strong opinions, crude jokes, an impressive number of guns and knives, and enough tools to make you wonder whether he was preparing to rebuild civilization after the apocalypse.

Byron graduated high school in Champaign, Illinois and spent 35 years as a member of the Carpenters Local 243 (44) before taking an early retirement. A carpenter by trade, there wasn't much he couldn't build, fix, rig up, or at least have a very strong opinion about how someone else was doing it wrong.

Byron was a redneck, and we say that with nothing but affection and accuracy. His bib overalls were practically formal wear. He was happiest spending time in Hannibal, MO., camping, fishing, hunting or grilling something.

His most beloved companion Ruckus, was less “pet” and more “small, hairy daughter.” The two shared practically every meal, and Ruckus received her own bowl of ice cream for dessert. Ruckus preceded Byron in death and, for purposes of this obituary, absolutely counts as one of his children. We will not be taking questions.

He could be loud. He could be opinionated. He was extraordinarily ornery. Byron wasn't a man known for wearing his emotions on his sleeve, but nobody ever had difficulty figuring out when they'd ticked him off. He took no crap and, in the interest of fairness, handed out plenty of it himself.

But underneath the smart alec remarks, stubbornness, and rough edges was a man who was fiercely protective of his family and remarkably generous to the people he cared about. Byron didn't necessarily need to tell you how he felt. He showed it in his own way—and if you knew him, you knew.

Byron was preceded in death by his wife who had probably just had enough of his antics, Penny Malloch; his parents, James R. Malloch and Wilma J. (Pyer) Malloch; his brother, Steven J. Malloch; his sister, Frances McGee; and, of course, his four-legged daughter and faithful dinner companion, Ruckus.

He leaves behind his only daughter, Jennifer “Jena” Malloch; Step son Jesse (Staci) Delong: bonus daughter, Justine Delong; his grandchildren, Alexis and Justice Knerr, Jacob and Mitchell Delong; his brother, Kevin W. Malloch; and one great grandchild Laken Knerr.

He leaves behind a family that inherited enough of his ornery streak to ensure that his particular brand of trouble isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

There will be no funeral or formal service. Anyone who knew Byron should understand why: we don't do that touchy-feely emotional stuff. Possible celebration of life in planning for the future.

Instead, remember him the way he'd probably prefer—tell an inappropriate joke, go fishing, grill something, spend time outdoors, eat some ice cream, or give somebody a little bit of flack just because you can