Bruce Kelsey Kilgore

Bruce Kelsey Kilgore, 82, passed away surrounded by family on August 27th, 2025, after a long, brave battle with the one opponent he couldn’t out-stubborn. He leaves behind a legacy of grit, love, laughter, and a fudge addiction that will no doubt continue into the afterlife.

Born and raised in the wilds of Southwest Virginia (and trust us, wild is the right word), Bruce was an Appalachian through and through. He was the kind of man who could fix just about anything with a roll of duct tape, WD-40, a pocketknife, and sheer force of will. He met the love of his life, Fay Cooper, in 1959, and somehow convinced her to stick around for more than six decades of snoring, songs about a goat named Jim, and secret stashes – of which we know nothing about!

In 1962, he joined the United States Army and was assigned to the 25th Infantry, 1st Battalion, 35th Regiment, Co. A. Stationed out of Hawaii – which he insisted was for “essential training” – he was deployed to Vietnam later that year. He faced danger with a wry grin and came back with enough stories to last several lifetimes – some of which may even be true! After being honorably discharged, he returned to the US with only one thing in mind: making Fay an honest woman. On October 30th, 1964, he married his love and became a staple in the Cooper family. He eventually settled into a more grounded life and began working at Owens-Illinois, where he faithfully worked for the next 37 years. Bruce’s work ethic and tremendous know-how ensured success as he went from throwing boxes to Master Welder to Journeyman before finally ending his career as an Operations Engineer. Let’s face it: he probably fixed more than one thing that wasn’t technically his responsibility.

Bruce and Fay raised two amazing children, Jennifer Steward (Mark) and Kevin Kilgore (Debbie), who inherited his love of history, strong work ethic, and, especially, his humor. He was the proud Papa to Donovan (Mia), Blaine (April), Mason, Chelsea, Kalyn (Azariah), and Dylan – and the doting great-grandfather to Zander and Sebastian, who brought him immense joy in the twilight of his life.

Bruce was a man of simple pleasures: the sweet smell of the woods in Norton, Virginia, the view from Flag Rock, a glass of good whiskey (neat), and a heaping plate of Chick-fil-a – with a side milkshake, of course. He enjoyed a piping hot cup of coffee with a side of homemade fudge, old westerns, voraciously reading anything he could get his hands on, and driving his wife absolutely crazy. He could be tough as nails but soft as mashed potatoes when it came to his grandkids. While he didn’t always say “I love you”, he showed it in every talk, every hug, and every crooked grin across the table. Tough, hilarious, sometimes ornery, and endlessly loving, he didn’t just live a life – he charged through it. Usually with a flashlight, a pocketknife, and his loyal chihuahuas at his side.

Bruce was preceded in death by his parents, William Henry Bruce Kilgore and Theresa Madeline Armistead, sister, Rebecca McAmis, brother, Charlie Kilgore, and daughter, Lisa Kilgore. He leaves behind a plethora of family members including, but not limited to: brother, David Kilgore, brother-in-law, Marion Cooper, sister-in-law and brother-in-law, Emily and Andy Fejes, nieces Michelle and Melanie (née Fejes), niece and great-niece, Karen and Christian Bullion, and so many others who undoubtedly will miss him dearly.

The family would like to express profound gratitude to the entire staff at Brightmoor Nursing and Hospice for the incredible love and care shown to Bruce over the last year. Thank you doesn’t begin to describe our appreciation.

In lieu of flowers, raise a glass, tell a good story, and keep a stash of candy somewhere your grandkids can’t find it. We’ll miss you, Bruce. But we know you’re already fixing something upstairs and telling St. Peter he’s using the wrong kind of wrench.

A private family service will be held in accordance with Bruce’s final wishes: no suit, no crying and plenty of Chick-fil-a for all to enjoy.