Obituary of Don Paul Westhof

Donald Paul Westhof Jr., born to Donald Paul Sr. and Frances (Smith) Westhof, on April 28, 1952 in Tucson, Arizona. He departed this Earth on December 21, 2015 at 4:54 PM at Carondelet St. Joseph's Hospital. He is survived by his wife, Pennie Westhof. Sister Kay Cargen preceded him in death. He is also survived by brother, Jerry Westhof and Diane; sister, Donna and Joe Snider, Brother in law, Tom and Sherry Cargen. Children, John and Patti Conger, Richard Conger and Richardo Higaredo; Michelle and William Landers, and Julie and Andy Mixer. Grandchildren, Nichole Conger, Saydee Roethle , Bill Blunk, Colton Holloway, Travis Holloway, Melissa Blunk, Alec Anderson, Cody Conger, Faith Conger. Great Grandchildren Nakayla Aguilera and Marshall Roethle. Don graduated from Sunnyside High School. After high school he began working at Tucson Electric Power as an apprentice. He worked his way up to become a journey man/ lineman/ cable man. Following TEP he worked at Sturgeon Electric as a line superintendent. While working at TEP and Sturgeon he forged forever friendships both with linemen and in the mining industries, mentoring and passing along his knowledge to many fellow linemen. Pallbearers: Jerry Westhof, Jeff Westhof, John Conger, Richard Conger, William Landers, Bill Blunk, Colton Holloway, and Travis Holloway. Honorary pallbearers: Aaron Getgen and Cisco Sutton. Burial to follow at East Lawn Palms Cemetery 5801 East Grant Road at 1:30 PM. Up on the storm-swept cross arm. There the wind blows wild and free, A cowhide belt and a chip of steel 'Twixt him and eternity. When the thunder peals o'er the tree tops And lightning gleams on the hills, It's then his work is awaiting him And he gets plenty of thrills. When folks in houses cringe and shake Before the storm has passed, He handles death at his fingertips To make the hot wires fast. One slip of the hand and he's gone To at least long days of pain, But let him get out and sure as sin He'll be up on the poles again. There's times he holds in his very hands The life of a pal he loves, And prays that he fails not in his trust By a flaw in his rubber gloves. But for all of that he's a common guy, And very much carefree, And he'll stick to you through everything The best pal you ever did see. So sometimes in a thunder storm, When everything goes black, Just think of the poor guy working hard To get those hot wires back.