James "Jim" Duplessie, Mequon, Wisconsin’s grumpiest gem, shuffled off this mortal coil on March 19, 2025, leaving behind a legacy of love, laughter, and a few spectacularly botched DIY projects. Jim was a salty New Englander with a heart of gold buried under a crusty exterior—a devoted husband, father, grandfather, and brother who won over everyone he didn’t immediately scare off with his opinions.
Jim was predeceased by his first wife, Ann Conway Duplessie, his brother Arthur, and his sister Connie. He leaves behind his wife, Irina Ragozin, his brother Dick (Kitty), his sons Stephen (Mickelle) and Greg (Vanessa), and his daughters Nancy and Kristen (Dennis). But the real stars of his show were his nine incredible grandchildren, who thought he hung the moon—probably because he once tried to fix it with duct tape and a ladder.
Jim’s kids—Stephen, Greg, Nancy, and Kristen—adored him, even when he was hollering profanities at a leaky pipe or posting cringe-inducing political rants on Facebook that had them plotting to sabotage his Wi-Fi. His grandchildren worshipped the ground he walked on, mostly because he’d trip over it while regaling them with tales of his “Amelia Bedelia” moments—like the time he met “TJ Maxx” (sorry, ZZ Top) in an elevator and bragged about it for years. He was a master of unintentional comedy, calling people whatever name popped into his head—Archie, Betty, Oink, you name it—as long as it vaguely rhymed or started with the right letter. Or didn’t.
A proud family man, Jim lived for his kids’ and grandkids’ events, cheering (or heckling) from the sidelines. He may hold the record as the only spectator ejected from a high school softball game, a badge of honor he wore with a smirk. His DIY disasters were legendary—think “handyman” meets “Three Stooges”—and his colorful language during those fiascos became a rite of passage for his kids. Yet he’d laugh, call an expert to undo the chaos, and move on. Opinionated? Oh, yes. But he loved a good debate, not a fight, and never took himself too seriously—unlike his Facebook page.
Above all, Jim’s heart shone brightest with his daughter Nancy, his special-needs sunshine, who adored him beyond measure. He was her rock, her moon, her everything, and he poured his soul into caring for her with a tenderness that melted his grouchy façade. His kids and grandkids couldn’t get enough of his quirks—his stubborn authenticity, his work ethic, and his ability to turn a simple story into a knee-slapping saga.
A private memorial service will be held later. In lieu of flowers, the family asks for tiny donations (he was famously frugal) to a charity of your choice. Jim Duplessie’s light may have flickered out here, but it’s blazing in the hearts of his kids and grandkids, who’ll forever cherish their hilariously unforgettable patriarch.
