Eric Leroy Rinehart
February 19, 1953 (Fort Bragg, North Carolina) - June 19, 2024 (Springfield, Illinois)
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Parents: Norman Rinehart and Wanda Cottengaim
Spouse: Penny Etson Rinehart Children: Barry F. Denham, Becky D. Wernlund, Rev. Dr. Blythe D. Kieffer High School Attended: Flora High School College Attended: University of Illinois B.S. in Mathematics Occupation: State of Illinois Department of Commerce and Community Affairs |
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SPRINGFIELD—On June 19, 2024, Eric Rinehart—husband, father, “Pop Pop”—passed away at his home. He leaves behind a grieving family, including his wife of nearly 47 years, Penny; two sons, Jonathan and William; two granddaughters, Claudette and Camille of Jonathan and Stefanie; and several nieces and nephews.
Eric’s life had three pillars: the seasonal rhythm of the garden, a deep love for his wife and his family, and an insatiable curiosity for the world.
Eric was born in Fort Bragg, N.C. on February 19, 1953 to Norman Rinehart and Wanda Cottengaim. He was preceded in death by his parents and his three brothers: Mike, James, and Norlan. Eric graduated from Flora High School and went on to graduate from the University of Illinois with a degree in mathematics.
In college, Eric met Penny Etson, hitting it off at a dance that ended up blooming into a lifelong love affair. Eric and Penny were married in Olney, IL on August 28, 1977 and built the rest of their lives together. Through it all, they remained each other’s “Baby,” a testament to their enduring love.
Eric was deeply curious about the world. His striking blue eyes were often buried in a newspaper, a computer screen, or a book, which would invariably be marked and underlined. His work spaces were freckled with countless Post-it notes written in the precise small script of an engineer using a Paper Mate 0.7mm Yellow Barrel mechanical pencil.
Eric retired in 2005, after spending his career at the State of Illinois in the Department of Commerce and Community Affairs. Having grown up with limited means, he was always proud of the financial independence he achieved.
Eric’s work at the state was a natural extension of his deep intellectual curiosity, a legacy which lives on in his writings on rural Midwestern development, entrepreneurship, public sector management, and his unpublished magnum opus on strategy. Unbeknownst to many, he was also a top-notch copy editor, and undoubtedly would have had suggestions to tighten up this prose.
In retirement, Eric became a master gardener, always planning for the next season even as he worked hard on the current one. For a time, if you called up the Illinois Extension Office asking about the best vegetables to plant in central Illinois, you’d end up talking to him. He was constantly experimenting with garden design. Crack open the console of his truck and you’d find notepads documenting the successes and failures of the gardens he helped to establish around Springfield, IL.
Eric was a constant tinkerer, spent years perfecting slow churned lemon ice cream, and loved to learn a new vocab word. He could hang drywall, finish out a home extension, skipper a boat, guard you in basketball, build you a custom speaker box, or sous chef your meal, all while discussing engineering, biology, chemistry, physics, economics, statistics, basically anything interesting and unique.
He was a close watcher of the stock market and the Manchester City Football Club. He was a lifelong subscriber of Science News and loved science fiction. Although he would never say he was a Trekkie, he had seen every episode of every season of Star Trek. He loved going to the movie theater, getting popcorn, and then forgetting the plot within the month. He also loved a blue joke especially if it was an esoteric reference. He was a computer programmer in the 1970s, an early adopter of the Internet, and constantly up on the latest tech, all while being the person you’d most likely get a butt dial from. Eric loved playing rock and blues too loud, Memphis barbeque, sour beers and whisky from this one area of Scotland he could tell you all about.
Like us all, Eric had his shortcomings. He could be petulant or stubborn. And for the record, he would say that he was just being resolute. But he would also admit his shortcomings and worked throughout his life at being better. At his core, Eric was an optimist and a source of encouragement to his family and friends, and would end a conversation by saying “Love you, kiddo.”
Still, this short description only partially captures Eric Rinehart, the curious, complicated, brilliant, beautiful man, who will be deeply missed.
The family will host a memorial gathering at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Springfield, IL from 2 P.M. until the memorial service at 3 P.M. Dr. Blythe Denham Kieffer will officiate. Interment will follow in the Westminster Memorial Garden.
In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to: Grow Springfield or Habitat for Humanity.
Eric’s life had three pillars: the seasonal rhythm of the garden, a deep love for his wife and his family, and an insatiable curiosity for the world.
Eric was born in Fort Bragg, N.C. on February 19, 1953 to Norman Rinehart and Wanda Cottengaim. He was preceded in death by his parents and his three brothers: Mike, James, and Norlan. Eric graduated from Flora High School and went on to graduate from the University of Illinois with a degree in mathematics.
In college, Eric met Penny Etson, hitting it off at a dance that ended up blooming into a lifelong love affair. Eric and Penny were married in Olney, IL on August 28, 1977 and built the rest of their lives together. Through it all, they remained each other’s “Baby,” a testament to their enduring love.
Eric was deeply curious about the world. His striking blue eyes were often buried in a newspaper, a computer screen, or a book, which would invariably be marked and underlined. His work spaces were freckled with countless Post-it notes written in the precise small script of an engineer using a Paper Mate 0.7mm Yellow Barrel mechanical pencil.
Eric retired in 2005, after spending his career at the State of Illinois in the Department of Commerce and Community Affairs. Having grown up with limited means, he was always proud of the financial independence he achieved.
Eric’s work at the state was a natural extension of his deep intellectual curiosity, a legacy which lives on in his writings on rural Midwestern development, entrepreneurship, public sector management, and his unpublished magnum opus on strategy. Unbeknownst to many, he was also a top-notch copy editor, and undoubtedly would have had suggestions to tighten up this prose.
In retirement, Eric became a master gardener, always planning for the next season even as he worked hard on the current one. For a time, if you called up the Illinois Extension Office asking about the best vegetables to plant in central Illinois, you’d end up talking to him. He was constantly experimenting with garden design. Crack open the console of his truck and you’d find notepads documenting the successes and failures of the gardens he helped to establish around Springfield, IL.
Eric was a constant tinkerer, spent years perfecting slow churned lemon ice cream, and loved to learn a new vocab word. He could hang drywall, finish out a home extension, skipper a boat, guard you in basketball, build you a custom speaker box, or sous chef your meal, all while discussing engineering, biology, chemistry, physics, economics, statistics, basically anything interesting and unique.
He was a close watcher of the stock market and the Manchester City Football Club. He was a lifelong subscriber of Science News and loved science fiction. Although he would never say he was a Trekkie, he had seen every episode of every season of Star Trek. He loved going to the movie theater, getting popcorn, and then forgetting the plot within the month. He also loved a blue joke especially if it was an esoteric reference. He was a computer programmer in the 1970s, an early adopter of the Internet, and constantly up on the latest tech, all while being the person you’d most likely get a butt dial from. Eric loved playing rock and blues too loud, Memphis barbeque, sour beers and whisky from this one area of Scotland he could tell you all about.
Like us all, Eric had his shortcomings. He could be petulant or stubborn. And for the record, he would say that he was just being resolute. But he would also admit his shortcomings and worked throughout his life at being better. At his core, Eric was an optimist and a source of encouragement to his family and friends, and would end a conversation by saying “Love you, kiddo.”
Still, this short description only partially captures Eric Rinehart, the curious, complicated, brilliant, beautiful man, who will be deeply missed.
The family will host a memorial gathering at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Springfield, IL from 2 P.M. until the memorial service at 3 P.M. Dr. Blythe Denham Kieffer will officiate. Interment will follow in the Westminster Memorial Garden.
In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to: Grow Springfield or Habitat for Humanity.