Ward Alan Clough, age 92, passed peacefully with his family by his side on June 26, 2025, at Hillcrest Care Center in Wray, Colorado, where he had been living for the past two months. Born on January 24, 1933, at the family home in Wallace, Nebraska, Ward was the youngest of Ralph and Delphia (Kenney) Clough’s four children, joining siblings Lloyd, Dolores, and Duane.
Ward didn’t often dwell on his childhood in Wallace, but what he did share sounded like it came straight from the pages of Tom Sawyer. He had a mischievous streak and a knack for cards that started early. Local lore has it he honed his skills playing “dime a game, penny a set” pitch in the Wallace Pool Hall—a crew that included a blind man and another who was deaf and mute. With braille cards and each hand called aloud, they played for keeps—and a very young Ward kept up.
He graduated from Wallace High School in 1950 in a class of five boys and not a single girl. He liked to say he was a “pretty good” basketball player, and maybe even better as a track star. Ward would boast that his track coach’s scheduled “workout” was to sprint to the soda fountain at the drugstore for a chocolate malt and then sprint back. The sprint must have proved more beneficial than the chocolate malt, as Ward placed second at the Nebraska State Track Meet in the discus.
On February 18, 1951, Ward married Mildred Boehmer at Trinity Lutheran Church, nestled between Grant and Ogallala. On February 28, 1952, Ward was baptized and confirmed into the Lutheran faith at Trinity. They made their first real home on a farm north of Otis, Colorado, raising wheat, milking five cows, and making a life out of grit and grace. Ward always said he wouldn’t have made it without the wisdom and support of his in-laws, Art and Emma Boehmer, whom he came to love like his own.
Farming in the dusty ’50s wasn’t easy, but with neighbors like Ivan and Marcie Pickett, they built a life filled with hard work, good laughs, and more than a few chickens. They even built the barn that still stands on the home place. Back then, “neighboring” wasn’t just a noun—it was a way of life. Fun meant gathering around the pinochle table with friends like the Spears, Browers, and Gailuses. One night, the whole crew pooled their coins and still came up short for a gallon of ice cream in Otis.
From 1952 to 1957, the Clough household grew to six: Randalin, Becky, Craig, and Cheryl. After a series of devastating hailstorms, Ward traded his milking clothes for a Kenworth truck cab, driving for Blanchard Construction and hauling oil across Colorado’s mountain passes—before the days of engine brakes or runaway ramps. Known for his steady hands on steep descents, he earned the prized weekend driving hours (though Mildred wasn’t so thrilled, managing four kids and a farm solo).
But by the early ’60s, the farm called him home again. Ward returned to farming full-time and welcomed two more children, Michael and Michelle. With the older kids leaving the nest and the dairy expanding, life found a rhythm. They built a modern herringbone milking parlor and kept 60 Holsteins in steady conversation—Ward belting out ’50s tunes to the cows, loud and proud. Around that time, Ward started as a substitute rural mail carrier, eventually making the Route 2 job permanent. He worked hard to serve his boxholders with a regular schedule and a cheery disposition.
Ward and Mildred were lifelong members of St. Paul Lutheran Church in Otis, drawing strength from their faith and their church family. They were also diehard Otis Bulldog fans—regulars at games long after their own kids had moved on, continuing to cheer for the grands. Ward was an excellent blue rock shooter and one of Washington County’s best horseshoe pitchers.
The Clough family tree blossomed through marriages and births: Randalin (Gene) brought Ryan, Bobbie, and Donna; Becky added Casey and Trent; Craig (Patty) fathered Holly and Heidi; Cheryl (Jerry) added Collin, Shae, Jamie, and Dillon; Mike (Beth) brought Parker, Mitchell, and Lexi; and Michelle (Darin) added Derek, Dana, and Emily. Grandchildren turned into great-grandchildren, and eventually into five great-great-grandchildren—a legacy Ward held dear. He lovingly teased Jr. and Hannah Patterson for years, saying, “It’s time for me to be a great-great-grandpa!” He lived to see that dream come true—five times over.
Of course, with deep love came deep loss. Ward endured the heartbreak of losing his granddaughter Heidi in 1991, daughter Becky and great-granddaughter “Baby C” in 2007, beloved wife Mildred in 2008, and grandson Trace in 2020. “A dad and grandpa shouldn’t have to bury his kids,” he once said, but he bore those sorrows with quiet strength and a deep well of love.
And then, life surprised him. At a 2011 Wallace High School reunion, Ward reconnected with Pauline—his late brother Lloyd’s widow. Within a week, Ward cheerfully announced to his grown children that he and Pauline were getting married—and they did, within two weeks and under the threat of two tornadoes barreling toward Otis. Pauline became lovingly known as “Aunt Mom,” and Ward, “Uncle Dad,” to Pauline’s family—Lloyd, Glen, Susan, David, and Annie. Together they split their time between Battleground, Washington, and Otis, racking up Southwest Airlines miles and savoring a sweet second chapter.
Ward Clough was a kind soul and a steady worker. A faithful husband (twice!), a loving father, a playful grandpa, and a card shark to the end. He whistled while he worked, believed in the power of neighborly kindness, and never met a stranger. He found joy in a herd of cows, a good hand of cards, and keeping Mildred on her toes with a well-timed quip.
In his later years, Ward’s memory began to fade, even as his heart stayed strong. Though he sometimes forgot names or places, his gentle spirit never wavered. Every visitor was greeted with a familiar smile, a twinkle in his eye, and the question, “When do we eat?” And if you asked him if he wanted to play cards, the answer was always yes. Even when nearly all else escaped him, Ward could still play a complicated game—so long as someone reminded him what was trump. It wasn’t hard to imagine he was back in that smoky pool hall in Wallace, holding his own in a high-stakes pitch game.
Ward was preceded in death by his parents, Ralph and Delphia; his siblings Lloyd Sparks, Duane (Doris), and Dolores (Wayne); sisters-in-law Lorna Schrotberger (George), Ardis Sparks (Roy), and Paulie Poppe (LaVern); Ward’s wife Mildred; daughter Becky; granddaughter Heidi; infant great-granddaughter “C”; and great-grandson Trace.
He is survived by his wife, Pauline Clough; his children Randalin Thomas (Gene), Craig Clough (Patty), Cheryl Patterson (Jerry), Michael Clough (Beth), and Michelle Corman (Darin); 16 grandchildren; 34 great-grandchildren: JR, Tanner, Rachel, Garret, Coley, Lanie, Jaylin, Preston, Avery, Sydney, Tyler, Wyatt, Madison, Blake, Bella, Emma, RJ, Brooks, Nora, Colt, Jace, Cash, Ryker, Allison, Kaitlyn, Tyson, Carter, Wesley, Duncan, Karlye, Kendal, Kinna, Cyle, and Crysten. 5 great-great-grandchildren: Hayden, Hoyt, Scout, Logan, Marcella; and many nieces, nephews, and treasured friends.
He will be dearly missed—and remembered always.