On July 20, 2025, Richard “Rick” Joseph Cobb left this earth, leaving behind a lifetime of stories, laughter, hard work, and unwavering love. Born on October 18, 1956, in Walla Walla, Washington, to Leo Oscar Cobb and Jerri Lynn (Todt) Cobb, Rick was the eldest of four children and a natural leader from the start.

Rick’s childhood wove through the small towns of northeast Washington—Walla Walla, Omak, and Waitsburg—where his adventurous spirit and love for the outdoors first took root. His grandfather, Leroy Richard Todt, one of the last territorial marshals in Washington State, was a larger-than-life figure in Rick’s eyes. He carried his stories like treasures and shared them often. From the time he was young, Rick was happiest with a fishing pole in hand. Summers meant being dropped off at the Potholes with nothing but his rod, a tackle box, and the day ahead—catching and cooking fish, exploring, and finding freedom in the water and sky.

Following his grandfather’s advice not to “settle down” too soon, Rick joined the U.S. Army at age 22. He left for boot camp at Fort Benning, Georgia, in October 1978 and by the next spring was stationed in Wiesbaden, Germany. Over the next eight years, he served on foreign soil—mostly in Germany and Korea—guarding the DMZ, forging friendships, and living adventures that could fill a book. Stateside assignments took him to Fort Wainwright, Alaska, where the untamed wilderness became another home, and later to Barstow, California, where he trained troops for Desert Storm. By the time he left the Army in 1992, honorably discharged from Fort Carson, Colorado, he had achieved the rank of Sergeant and dedicated over 14 years to serving his country.

Civilian life brought Rick to Idaho, where he reconnected with his father and soon began a new career with BNSF Railroad in 1994. That same year, he married Terry, and together they welcomed their son, Jacob Joseph. Railroad life suited Rick—its grit, travel, and brotherhood echoed his time in the service. Whether working Maintenance of Way, running machines, or driving crew and fuel trucks, he threw himself into the job with the same all-or-nothing work ethic that defined him. His time on the UC01 crew in 1997 was a highlight, working with a massive German-built track machine from Arkansas to the West Coast. The railroad became more than a job—it was a family, and among them, one bond stood out. Patrick Tate became the brother Rick never had, their friendship forged in the same iron as the rails they worked.

Even after an injury in 2007 forced an early retirement, Rick carried the railroad in his heart. He kept its stories alive, sharing them with Jake over the years, Bible in hand, passing down lessons from a life lived hard and full. His pride in his son ran deep, and though his compliments were rare, they were sincere and lasting.

At home in the snow belt of Sanders Road, Rick poured his energy into gardening—towering corn, hundreds of jars of canned food, and a backyard pond that became a summer haven for neighborhood kids. Known as “Grama Ricky” and “Uncle Rick” to the Hoaglin family, he welcomed friends, neighbors, and young people in need through his open door. Behind his sometimes-gruff exterior was a man who would give you the shirt off his back without a second thought.

Faith remained a quiet cornerstone of Rick’s life. For years he attended a rural church, and when the time came, he opened his home every Sunday for worship. His living room became a gathering place for neighbors and friends—a place of warmth, food, and community.

Though his marriage to Terry ended after 22 years, their friendship endured, blending families and keeping bonds strong. In his later years, Rick lived with a determination that inspired those around him. He faced a broken leg and multiple knee surgeries without anything stronger than an Aleve—just one of many quiet triumphs that made his family proud.

Rick found a new joy in being “Papa” to his granddaughters. His eldest was his “little Shrimp,” his sidekick for ice cream runs and treasured outings. His youngest filled his heart with laughter, toddling toward him with her tongue out and a giggle on her lips. They were his pride and joy, and he cherished every moment with them.

Rick passes the torch to his son and is survived by Jacob (Halli) Cobb, granddaughters, sisters Wendy (Diane Morton) Cobb, Tracy (Steve) Harrison, and Kristy (Rex) Riggs; his “brother” Patrick (Tammy) Tate; Jeff and Terry Whitehead; Mark Hoaglin and Leslie Cooper; Dawayne Campbell; and countless nieces, nephews, and friends. He is preceded in death by his parents, grandparents, Martha Murphy, and his nephew Nick, who adored his Uncle Rick.

If you ever crossed paths with Rick, you were likely remembered in his stories—he never forgot a face and never met a stranger. He was a soldier, a railroader, a gardener, a neighbor, a father, a grandfather, and a friend. His life was full—of adventure, of hard work, of love given and received.

When his work here was done, God called him home. And while his absence leaves an ache, those who knew him find comfort in knowing he is at peace—his stories now carried in the hearts of all who loved him.

A celebration of his life will be held on Saturday, September 20, 2025 at 11:00 am with full military honors at  the Benewah Lake Boat Launch off of 11860 Highway 5, with a potluck following in the picnic area. The family asks for you to bring a favorite dish and your own chair and your favorite Rick story.