R. Joseph Martin

R. Joseph “Joe” Martin, age 66, passed away peacefully at his home on December 2, 2025, leaving behind a legacy of kindness, humor, and hard-earned grit. Joe was born in Ottumwa, Iowa, on September 1st, 1959, to the late John Charles Martin and Simone Emilliene Rochette. He grew up learning the value of hard work and carried that with him throughout his life.

Joe spent most of his years in Brookfield, Ohio, before settling in Port Clinton, Ohio, in 2021. Over the course of his life, he mastered many skills, but he was known best as a talented mechanic—able to diagnose a problem by ear, with a wrench in his hand and a smile that said, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” In his younger years, he also worked in the steel yards, where he earned respect for his strength and determination.

When he wasn’t working, Joe found joy in simple things—mowing the lawn with precision, chasing down every last leaf in the fall, and lending a helping hand to anyone who needed it. He was the kind of man who showed his love through action, always showing up, always willing to help.

Joe is survived by his beloved daughters, who were truly the light of his life, Amanda (Michael) Michalski, of Warren, Ohio, Lori (Shaun) Nystrom, of Port Clinton, Ohio, Michelle Martin, of Transfer, Pennsylvania, and Emilliene Martin, of Brookfield, Ohio. He was a proud grandfather to Brayden Penwell, of New Castle, Pennsylvania, and Shane and Hunter Nystrom, of Port Clinton, Ohio. He is also survived by his siblings, brother, Jim (Paulette) Martin of Galveston, Texas, and sister Michelle (Jim) Turk of Marble, Pennsylvania, as well as many nieces and nephews, who loved him dearly. He was preceded in death by his brother, Patrick Martin, of Erie, Pennsylvania.

Per Joe’s request, no formal services will be held. Sounds silly, he knows but if you knew him you would understand. He also insisted that crying be limited to just 10 minutes—though he didn’t specify whether that meant per day or total. As his daughter, I can say confidently that the rule was broken immediately. So we’ll stick with his spirit, not his math: 10 minutes a day is just fine.

Joe’s life was rooted in love, loyalty, and laughter. Those who knew him will forever carry his stories, his strength, and his heart.

In tribute to Joe, take in the fresh-cut grass, chase a few leaves next fall, and help someone who could use a hand—he’d like that.