Victor Joseph Hauth

July 28, 1929 – February 8, 2025

In Honor of a Loving Husband, Father, Grandfather, Great-Grandfather, Great-Great-Grandfather, and Friend to Many.

We share the sad news that Victor Joseph Hauth, more commonly known as Vic, left us early on the morning of Saturday, February 8th, at home with family by his side. After a valiant and courageous battle against RSV and its complications, he passed peacefully.

Vic was born on July 28, 1929, in the front room of his childhood home in Mt. Angel, Oregon, to Anton and Gertrude Hauth.

He grew up in the home with nine siblings: Catherine, Carl, Sue, Mike, Al, Ray, Vincent (Curly), Marilyn, and Louise.

Born in the year the Great Depression began, Vic knew firsthand the challenges of poverty and hunger, often going without or going to bed hungry.

As a child, Vic faced hardships, including little love, support, or compassion from his father. However, despite these challenges, he worked tirelessly as an adult to build a successful life for himself and his family.

More importantly, Vic understood the significance of showing love—to his wife, children, grandchildren, and everyone close to him—unconditionally.

In 1954, Vic married the love of his life, Isabelle Aylett, and together, in June of 2024, they celebrated 70 years of marriage.

Vic was the last surviving sibling of nine. His younger sister, Maryland Duman, passed just three days before him.

Vic had three children: Jeffery, Randell, and Victor. He also had five grandchildren, five great-grandchildren, and fourteen great-great-grandchildren.

Vic became a second father to many. Alongside Isabelle, he helped raise grandchildren and great-grandchildren, always putting their needs above his own.

Together, they made a great team—Isabelle working in her basement beauty salon, and Vic working in the field. Through their hard work, they flourished. Vic was also a private pilot and often took cross-country flights in their Cessna Cardinal, with Isabelle by his side, creating cherished memories in the skies.

Vic served in the Korean War and later worked as a prison guard, a bus driver for Rose City Transit, and a vending route driver for the Canteen Company.

In the late ’70s, Vic earned his real estate license and began buying, selling, and remodeling homes to rent out—all while working hard to provide for his family.

A lifelong member of the VFW, Vic was very proud of his service to what he called “the greatest nation in the world,” often shedding a tear when speaking of the privilege to serve.

Vic lived a long and meaningful life, generously sharing the rewards of his hard work with those he loved.

The fruits of Vic’s labor allowed the family to spend weekends boating, skiing, riding motorcycles, and playing lawn darts at Lake Billy Chinook in Central Oregon, creating lifelong memories to reflect upon.

Although Vic’s body weakened toward the end of his life, his mind remained sharp, and his memory was crystal clear.

The family and other loved ones in Vic’s life were fortunate to share precious moments with him right up until the end.

Vic’s presence was a blessing to those who knew him. Though he is no longer with us, his legacy will live on in the hearts of his family and friends.

He taught us how to be strong, how to love deeply, and how to appreciate the simple joys of life.

Vic will be dearly missed but never forgotten.

Vic loved life, family, and friend’s and fought hard to stay with us, as long as possible though unfortunately, the RSV virus and associated complications took him away from us.

His family is heartbroken and deeply lost with his passing but will stay strong as that would be his desire.

Plans for a celebration of life are in process but have not yet been finalized.
All that shared and in honor of Vic, I leave you with a favorite poem of Vic’s, for reflective consideration.

AT DAYS END

Is anybody happier
because you passed their way?

Does anyone remember
that you spoke to them today?

The day is almost over,
and its toiling time is through;
Is there anyone to utter now
a kindly word of you?

Can you say tonight, in parting
with the day that’s slipping fast,
That you helped a single brother
of the many that you passed?

Is a single heart rejoicing
over what you did or said;

Does the man whose hopes were fading,
now with courage look ahead?

Did you waste the day, or lose it?

Was it well or sorely spent?

Did you leave a trail of kindness,
or a scar of discontent?

As you close your eyes in slumber,
do You think that God will say

“You’ve earned one more tomorrow
by the work you did today?”