Wayne J. “Butch” Nordin
Passed away suddenly on April 3, 2025, at the age of 71. A lifelong Minnesotan, he was a proud resident of West St. Paul.
Preceded in death by his parents, Marie and Theodore Nordin; siblings Clarice Gombold, Donna Schweitzberger, and Ted Nordin; in-laws Jerome and Nancy Sargent; brothers-in-law Duane Taylor and Al Blaisdell; and, with heavy hearts, his niece Jodi Taylor, just hours before his passing.
He is survived by his beloved wife of 46 years, Mary; daughter Stephanie Nordin (Jordani Sanchez); sisters Bonnie Taylor, Rocky Hop, and Connie Blaisdell; and many cherished in-laws, nieces, nephews, cousins, and extended family. He also leaves behind his rescue dog Jenna and NYC kitties Riddick and Jonesy—who held a special place in his heart.
A memorial service will be held at 6:00 PM on Monday, April 14, 2025, at Klecatsky’s West Funeral Home, 1051 S. Robert Street, West St. Paul. Visitation will be from 4:00–6:00 PM at the same location.
Wayne was born in 1953, the youngest of seven, and grew up in the Village of Mendota. His childhood was full of adventures—biking gravel roads, fishing at local ponds, collecting comics, and exploring train tracks. As a teen, his explorations grew to drive-ins and racetracks. He once collected over 250,000 bottle caps and loved sharing his comic books with family and friends.
In the winter of 1976, at a New Year’s Eve party, he met Mary—the love of his life. They married in May of 1979 and built a life full of laughter, love, and countless memories. Wayne adored their daughter, Stephanie, and was overjoyed when she married Jordani, a son-in-law he deeply respected and loved.
Professionally, Wayne spent over four decades at the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources as a Senior Surveyor. He loved the hunt for century-old land markers and left his mark—literally and figuratively—on Minnesota’s land and history. Photos of his work still hang in the DNR building at the Minnesota State Fair. He even volunteered as Smokey Bear at the fair in the early 2000s.
After retiring from the DNR, he found joy in part-time work at Biermeier’s Greenhouse and as an usher at the Xcel Energy Center, where he helped guests at Wild games, concerts, and events for over 15 years. These roles connected him to people, which he loved most.
Wayne had a generous spirit. He donated blood and platelets more than 160 times and received recognition from the Red Cross for donating over 200 platelet units. He also volunteered with Habitat for Humanity and supported numerous causes including World Central Kitchen, Doctors Without Borders, and Second Harvest Heartland.
An avid reader, especially of seafaring tales, Wayne could often be found on the deck with a book and his dog by his side. He was also a fan of sudoku and the New York Times crossword. He never missed a Father-Daughter Dance and was known for his joyful, goofy moves—always dancing, always smiling.
Wayne was proud of his Native American heritage. His mother, born on the Santee Reservation, passed down Dakota and Ojibwe traditions. In 2001, Wayne walked 71 miles in remembrance of the Dakota 38 and stayed involved in local Pow Wows, including volunteering at Mendota’s.
He was always on the move—walking, jogging, and participating in 5Ks and 10Ks well into his 70s. A lifelong hockey fan, he played goalie on frozen ponds, cheered at local tournaments, and held season tickets to the Minnesota Wild since their inaugural season in 2000. He and Mary traveled often to see away games, most recently to Vancouver in March.
Wayne also loved to travel, especially cruising with Mary. From the Caribbean to Alaska, the Panama Canal to the Northeastern coast, he explored every port with curiosity and joy.
He was the heart of his family, always the first to call, the first to celebrate others’ accomplishments. He compiled a digital archive of photos, stories, and family history—his way of honoring the past and keeping it alive for the future.
Last year, Wayne completed a memoir of his childhood in Mendota. He ended it with these words:
“So there you have it. Some snapshots, bits and pieces. A patchwork quilt in no particular order, of some memories of the people I knew when I was a child and the Village I grew up in called Mendota… because we don’t remember days, we remember moments.”
Thank you to everyone who has shared kind words and stories about Wayne. He loved you all deeply—and if you knew him, you know just how true that is.