Obituary for Dow Earl Prouty

Dow Earl Prouty didn’t just have rules – he lived inside them, wrote them down, taped them to the walls, and somehow made them feel like a gift.

In 1998, Dow published Grandpa’s Book of Rules: Rules and Guidelines for Raising Your Kids, Your Grandkids, and Maybe Your Neighbor’s Kids, through his own company, Graybeard Publishing. Within its pages, he posed a question that now feels like a loving challenge. When they write your obituary, will they say, “you played by the rules?” Dow believed rules weren’t there to shrink life. They were there to teach you how to play the game well and to make it more fun.

Dow was born on October 8, 1928, in Keokuk, Iowa to Earl Dow and Jessie May (Williams) Prouty. He died on December 27, 2025, in Marion, Iowa. In between, he built a life that was sturdy, curious, and remarkably intentional. You can still find him in the small things: a hopscotch grid drawn with a ruler so the lines are perfectly straight; pictures hung level because “doing things right” mattered; and handwritten notes tucked everywhere throughout the house — in the bathroom, by light switches, on the staircase wall – little reminders of the rules, and little lessons in how to live.

To Susan, his wife of nearly 70 years and the love of his long and adventurous life, Dow left a note for when he “kicked the bucket.” It ended the way he lived – with honesty, humor, and a gentle nudge forward:

“P.S. when all is said and done – generally speaking – I tried to do right and play fair. Maybe I didn’t always do that, but I tried. Don’t forget – have fun – life is short. Climb your mountain.”

Dow met Susan outside his engineering firm while she worked across the street at the telephone company. They married in early January 1956 and built a family that grew the way all good things do – with commitment, attention, and a lot of work. Dow called parenting a “24-hour job,” and he never meant it as a complaint. He meant it as a standard you hold yourself to, because the people you love deserve your best.

Dow was also a lifelong learner who collected wisdom the way other people collect souvenirs. In Grandpa’s Book of Rules, he wrote sixty-one pages of his own advice, then added a hundred more pages of ideas he gathered from others – a local sporting-goods store owner, the Founding Fathers, a school district three states away, and his own grandkids. Dow believed that listening was the best form of education.

More than one grandchild remembers the rule at extended family dinners: speak one at a time and listen more than you talk. When you had the floor, Dow gave you his full attention. In doing so, he taught you that you mattered because he treated your words as worth hearing.

In his “Ten Thoughts from Grandpa,” Dow urged people to “go.” Go to the school conference, the game, and lunch at school. Go sledding. Go ice skating. He also urged people to “get involved.” Be part of the city, the school, the youth athletic program. Coach. Lead. Be an adult who shows up. Dow didn’t just publish that advice – he lived it. His wall of certificates and decades of leadership in the Boy Scouts, Masons, Toastmasters, and multiple engineering and surveying societies were less a résumé than a record of showing up.

Dow taught by building as much as he taught by writing. He put his hands to work. He built a brick patio and a walkway around their home, laying each brick by hand. He built a barn in the backyard that still stands strong today. You can see his values in the structure: do it right, do it to last, and do it with care.

In retirement, Dow turned the backyard into a small world of order and wonder. Alongside the hand-laid bricks were vegetables, grapevines, flowers, and a koi pond where the goldfish grew enormous. Dow believed everyone should grow a tomato at least once. He felt it taught the value of nurturing, sunlight, and patience. In his honor, plant one this summer. Watch it. Wait. Learn something.

And then there was the mountain – literal, not metaphorical. In 2002, Dow set a world record as the oldest man to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro at age 70 1/2. It suited him. Discipline. Preparation. A steady pace. The satisfaction of doing something hard the right way. He and Susan traveled widely – to Ecuador, China, and all around the United States. Many trips were tied to surveying gatherings, and all of them were tied to curiosity.

Dow was an engineer by trade and a builder by instinct. He graduated from Iowa State University with a degree in civil engineering and went on to become a registered professional civil engineer and land surveyor. He served as a 2nd Lieutenant in the U.S. Air Force during the Korean conflict. His career included work at a consulting engineering firm, Martin Marietta Corp, and B.L. Anderson Inc. Even his schooling carried the stamp of a mind that stayed hungry. Dow pursued graduate coursework at the University of California, the University of Colorado, and the University of Iowa College of Law.

Dow was also a two-time entrepreneur. With Susan, he invested in and ran Sondrol’s Hardware. Later, he founded Graybeard Publishing to bring his book to life. That instinct to build carried forward. His children went on to create businesses of their own, building and serving their communities in ways Dow would recognize and admire.

If you want one last image of Dow, don’t picture him in a suit at a meeting, in perfectly pressed khakis and a flannel, or standing at the summit of a mountain. Picture him instead in his sunny home office with a pen. Signing his note with a small cat – just as he always did. He turned that cat into the logo of his publishing company. Dow kept drawing cats to the end, entertaining grandchildren and great-grandchildren with the same simple sketch.

In the end, if you want to summarize Dow’s life, you could list accomplishments — the degrees, the service, the memberships, the record on Mount Kilimanjaro. But if you want to truly know him, look for the ruler-straight lines, the level picture frames, the handwritten notes where you didn’t expect them, and the quiet insistence that character is something you practice when no one is watching.

Dow is survived by his wife, Susan Prouty; his children Jeff (Mary) Prouty, David (Yvonne) Prouty, Angela (John) Freeman, and Elizabeth (John) Gilles; his grandchildren David (Amy) Freeman, Andrea (BJ) Harken, Brooke (Matthew) McNaul, Jake (Tiffany) Schafer, Holly (Ryan) Hebert, Rebecca (Sean) Roth, Bethany (Mitchell) McNett, Paige Prouty, and Shea Prouty; and his great-grandchildren Brinley and Brett Schafer; Iva and Levi Freeman; Clara, Elise, and Julia McNaul; Lily and Daisy Harken; and Ada and Milo Hebert.

Dow was preceded in death by his parents, Earl & Jessie Prouty; his siblings, Kathleen Jane Prouty, Jean (Charles) Pond, Margaret (Truman) Engelking, Jack Prouty, and Phyllis (Gilbert Roraback, Bill Briggs) Roraback Briggs.

The family is planning a future private service.

And if you’re wondering what he would want you to do now that he’s gone, he already wrote it down:

Play fair.
Try to do right.
Have fun. Life is short.
And climb your mountain.
 
Donations in Dow’s memory may be sent to the Hawkeye Area Council – Scouting America (660 32nd Avenue SW, Cedar Rapids, Iowa 52404).