Henrietta Mae Ness

Loving Mother, Grandmother and Friend

Henrietta Mae Ness, affectionately known as "Hank," passed away peacefully on November 28, 2025, at the age of 87, at the Sycamore Memory Center in River Falls, Wisconsin.

Born July 24, 1938, in Iron Mountain, Michigan, to Henry and Ann Goulette, Henrietta learned the values of hard work, faith, and serving others from her parents. She graduated from Iron Mountain High School in 1956 and earned her degree in Social Work from the College of Saint Scholastica in Duluth, where she was voted "All College Woman" in 1960.

Henrietta married William Ness on August 13, 1960, after he proposed on their third date. Together, they built a life in Thief River Falls, Minnesota, where they raised five children, formed lasting friendships, and became active members in the community. After earning her master’s degree in Counseling and Guidance, Henrietta served as director of the Occupational Development Center, supporting adults with disabilities. In 2002, Hank and Bill moved to Hudson, Wisconsin, where their home overlooking the St. Croix River became a gathering place for family and friends.

Known for her gap-toothed smile, warmth, and sense of humor, Hank had a remarkable gift for connecting with people and making everyone feel valued. She was an encouraging mother and grandmother who fostered creativity and a love of adventure. Even as Alzheimer’s disease took her memories in later years, her sweet disposition and kindness never wavered.

Henrietta was preceded in death by her husband William, parents Henry and Ann Goulette, sister Arlene Nolan, and grandson Ryan Mattison. She is survived by sisters Doreen Meade and Maria Smith; her children Gregory (Karyn) Ness, Teresa (James) Mattison, Jon Ness, Jeffrey (Naomi) Ness, and Rachel (Scott) Berger; 14 grandchildren; and 9 great-grandchildren.

The Ness family extends heartfelt thanks to the staff at The Sycamore Memory Center for making Henrietta a cherished member of their community while preserving her dignity, and to the staff of St. Croix Hospice for their compassionate care during her final days.

Visitation will be held from 10:00–11:00 a.m. on Saturday, December 13, 2025, at Saint Patrick’s Catholic Church, 1500 Vine St, Hudson, WI 54016. A service will follow at 11:00 a.m., and a small lunch will be served at noon.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to St. Croix Hospice, Attn: Henrietta Ness Memorial Donation, 7200 Hudson Boulevard, Suite 100, Oakdale, MN 55128.

Read on for an extended remembrance (bio) of Henrietta’s life.

Henrietta (Hank) Ness, Beloved Mother, Grandmother and Friend

Her gap-toothed smile and kind spirit will be missed.

Henrietta Mae Ness (aka Hank) was born July 24, 1938, and raised in Iron Mountain, Michigan by her parents Ann and Henry Goulette.

While growing up, Henrietta and her sisters learned the importance of hard work from their parents. More importantly, Henry and Ann exemplified to their four daughters what it means to have the heart of a servant, not unlike Jesus in the Gospels. Henry, who ran a heating and cooling business, would make house calls no matter the weather or time of day. He not only repaired their furnaces but would lift the spirits of his customers with a warm smile and cheerful encouragement.

Henry also modeled how a gentleman should act. When they dined out at a restaurant, he would offer Ann and each of his daughters a chair and tuck them in at the table. Later on in life when he suffered from severe Alzheimer’s, he stayed temporarily in a facility that included troubled young people who loved him for his kind disposition, a reflection of his ability to connect with people across generations and cultures.

Ann, on the other hand, often practiced tough love when it came to teaching the value of hard work, especially regarding house cleaning. She was a skilled deadeye when it came to targeting a complaining daughter with her famous flying shoe. In addition to being a homemaker, Ann had a great fashion sense and owned a women’s clothing store in town for some time. Ann softened through the years, and her grandkids remember her as wonderful.

Both Henry and Ann instilled their faith in Henrietta, which played a pivotal role in shaping her character.

Through her large extended families, Henrietta learned the importance of staying connected and looking out for one another. From her Italian American family members, she learned that it’s okay to cry, laugh loudly, and occasionally yell at each other, so long as you didn’t hold a grudge. She remembers the Aunties getting into huge fights one minute, then in the next breath calmly making arrangements to pick each other up for church. Through Ann and her Aunties, Henrietta also learned the art of Italian cooking.

Although her nickname “Hank” was a term of endearment by her family, the boys in grade school managed to weaponize it. Because she was on the chubby side as a young girl, they decided to taunt her with the derogatory moniker “Hank the Tank.”

On the lighter side, Henrietta, her sisters and cousins would visit their eccentric Uncle John Goulette, who lived near the old ice shed where the Goulette family stored blocks of lake ice when they ran an ice delivery business. Often wearing nothing but overalls, he would warn would-be trespassers “If you smell s___, you’ve been hit,” referring to his probably inoperable shotgun. Of course, his mood immediately brightened when he saw it was the kids, and he would regale them with colorful stories.

In terms of entertainment, the girls and Henry honed their skills as yodelers and were quite talented: “If you can’t get the daughter, get the old lae-ee-dee,” was a favorite verse of Henry’s.

After graduating from Iron Mountain High School in 1956, she attended the College of Saint Scholastica, then an all-women’s school in Duluth, where she earned her degree in Social Work. She was voted “All College Woman” when she graduated in 1960.

In 1959, her friend and classmate, Patsy Nepper, set Hank and another friend (Tippy) up on a double date with her cousin, Bill Ness, and his friend Ove Siversten Stromsholm. Before the date, Bill and Ove flipped a coin to see who would sit next to which girl. Bill would later reminisce how that coin tumbling end over end through the air would determine his destiny for the next 64 years. Fate landed him in the seat next to Hank. Apparently, Hank bewitched Bill with her irresistible inner and outer beauty that night because he fell head over heels for her and proposed on the third date. They were married in Hank’s hometown of Iron Mountain on August 13, 1960.

Their wedding could be described as a clash of cultures, as Bill’s family, Lutheran Scandinavians, met Hank’s Italian and French-Canadian families. Bill’s mother Lilly had never stepped foot in a Catholic church before and might have thought some manner of hell fire would rain down on the proceedings. Luckily, the only misfortune occurred afterward as the guests celebrated with gusto back at the Goulette house. Uncle Hector fell backwards off the porch rail into the bushes and lost his dentures.

The first year of marriage, Hank and Bill lived in the Twin Cities where Bill began his career as an electrical engineer at Remington Rand Univac. Hank worked at a nursing home where, pregnant with Greg at the time, she was often chased by frisky old men. In early 1961, Bill received a job offer from Lowell Swenson at the Dow-Key Company in Thief River Falls, Minnesota, and the young couple moved north.

Greg arrived in May of 1961, with Teresa, Jon and Jeff following at a staccato pace. Rachel brought up the rear a bit later in 1969. During the family’s early years, they lived in town in an art deco house with a bad roof on North Kneale Avenue. Bill realized, too late, that buildings designed for Ocean Drive in Miami didn’t fare too well in Northern Minnesota.

Hank and Bill struck up several life-long friendships in their new community with the Bergans, Omdahls and Olsons, just to name a few. During those early years when nobody had money, they would party in each other’s homes—cigarette smoke, laughter, Dillon, PP&M, and Rubber Soul wafting in the air.

Growing up, Greg remembers his mom as the great champion and encourager. She had a good voice and sang spirited versions of songs from musicals like The Sound of Music. She fostered creativity and would make big batches of homemade Play-Doh, which the kids fashioned into T-Rexes, Saturn V rockets and many a snake. They rued the day that Mom happened upon a strand of cow bells. While the other neighborhood moms would screech the names of their children to come home at night, Hank would spare her vocal cords and give the cowbells a shake much to the chagrin of her children, who would get cajoled by the other kids that it was time to head back to the barn.

She often didn’t need to use the bells because the Ness backyard was frequently the gathering place for the neighborhood kids, as evidenced by the packed dirt yard where no blade of grass stood a chance. During the summers, Hank would make wax paper sheets of oatmeal chocolate drops that she laid out on a picnic table. Word spread quickly through the neighborhood and the treats would be devoured within a few hours.

In 1970, the family moved to the new house outside of town along the Red Lake River, built by the Stetson adorned, chain-smoking contractor, Stan Ranum.

In a continual effort to expand their horizons, Hank taught her kids the love of adventure and the outdoors. She introduced her kids to cross-country skiing in the early 1970s. During a special day when Franklin Middle School had the kids do non-academic activities, she took a group of students skiing on the river. All the kids who participated raved about it afterward. Thanks to his cool ski mom, it was the one time Greg remembers being popular for a day.

However, Hank was not known for her sense of direction, and she and her kids became hopelessly lost cross-country skiing in the hills behind Pine Lake near the town of Gonvick. They eventually escaped the woods onto a road and trudged along, unsure of where they would end up. Luckily, a farmer friend of Grandpa George’s happened by. The demoralized skiers piled into his pickup box and were safely delivered back to the cabin.

Hank’s talents extended to hosting as well. During the 1970s, the Ness home was the biggest in Thief River Falls and often the location of choice for soirees. There was no catering to speak of back then, so Hank and the other wives had to figure things out. The deeply ingrained cooking skills she learned from her mom and the aunties would kick in, and guests never left hungry. The after-party for the world premiere of It Ain’t Easy, named by one critic as one of the worst movies of all time, took place in the Ness home.

Although many sinners have feet of clay, Hank had feet of lead when she got behind the wheel of an automobile. Her penchant for speed put her on a first-name basis with local law enforcement, and her ticket revenue was a tidy bonanza for the town’s coffers.

In the late 1970s with five kids at home, Hank and neighbor and friend Gretchen Beito decided to pursue their master’s degrees at the University of North Dakota There were no online courses back then, so Hank and Gretchen would have to make the hour-long trip to Grand Forks at times in some dicey winter weather that entailed black ice and white-out conditions. More challenging than the weather was arriving home, loaded with homework, to hungry and whiny teenagers.

Hank graduated from UND with a master’s degree in Counseling and Guidance and became the director of the Occupational Development Center (ODC) in Thief River Falls in the early 1980s. Because of the bad economy, no snow, and some poor decisions, Arctic Cat had gone into bankruptcy, and Bill found himself out of a job. He credited Hank’s job at the ODC with keeping them financially afloat until he found his footing with other business ventures and restarting Arctic Cat.

As director at the ODC, Hank’s main responsibility was to supervise an occupational workshop for adults with intellectual and mental health disabilities. At the Center, client participants would work on actual projects for local businesses and learn how to conduct themselves professionally. On one occasion, one of their clients said he was stepping out for a smoke break, but he never returned. It was the dead of winter, so Hank and the staff were understandably concerned. It was pre-cell phone days, so they had no choice but to begin a search of the town. They went to his apartment, all the local bars, and no sign of him. They called the police to file a missing person’s report. Hank was deeply concerned that he was outdoors somewhere freezing to death. Then reports started coming in. Apparently, he had gone to the bank and withdrawn his savings. Then word that he had taken a cab out to the airport. Then news that he had bought a one-way ticket to Hawaii. Hank and the staff burst out laughing in relief. They joked “Maybe he’s the sane one, and we’re crazy for putting up with these Minnesota winters.”

After years of meaningful work supporting the community of Thief River Falls, Hank and Bill were ready for their next chapter. In 2002, Hank and Bill moved to Hudson, Wisconsin. Their house, perched high atop a bluff, overlooked the picturesque St. Croix River. From their vantage point, the river stretched nearly a mile wide. During the warmer months, they would sit on their patio and watch tour boats from Stillwater and Hudson glide by below. They also purchased a house in Scottsdale, Arizona, where they would snowbird in the winter and spring. Both homes became gathering places where they created many happy memories entertaining family and friends.

In their empty-nest years, Bill and Hank both loved to travel, and it certainly helped that their dear friend, Annette Bergan, was also a travel agent who talked them into exotic expeditions not for the faint of heart. Hank joined an excursion to China in the 1980s when it first opened to the West. Breathing the dank, polluted winter air, Hank and the other travelers came down with colds. The Chinese, not familiar with Kleenex, wondered why the strange visitors saved their snot in paper when they blew their noses.

Katie Tabor recalls how Grandma Hank would say to the granddaughters with good-humored jealousy, “How is it all you girls have these beautiful long slender legs, and I was cursed with these fat, stubby things?” She remembers how Grandma would crow about their artwork like it was Sotheby's Auction worthy, and the stairwell down to the basement was plastered with their masterpieces.

Like her father, Henry, Hank had a knack for connecting with anyone, anywhere. Her warmth, openness, humility and great sense of humor immediately put people at ease. Not surprisingly, she was the go-to person for friends and family when they needed to talk about something weighing on their hearts.

On the flip side, Hank was no pushover either. She didn’t throw shoes, but when one of the kids needed discipline, she would sight in her victim with a withering stare and target them with her pointer finger of shame. Often, she served as her husband’s conscience when he wasn’t at his best, saying Just his name “Bill!” but infusing it with an undertone of “you’re being an idiot” to guide him back to his better angel.

Sadly, Henrietta suffered the same fate as her dad, developing Alzheimer’s disease, but through it all and through the years as the horrible condition robbed her of memory, she maintained her wonderfully sweet disposition. Her son Greg says, “Even when she no longer remembered who I was, she would say, ‘I always liked you.’ Her way of still offering encouragement.”

At the age of 87, Henrietta passed peacefully in her sleep on November 28, 2025, at the Sycamore Memory Center in River Falls, Wisconsin.

Henrietta was preceded in death by parents Henry and Ann Goulette, husband William Ness, sister Arlene Nolan and grandson Ryan Mattison. She is survived by her sisters Doreen Meade and Maria Smith; five children Gregory (Karyn) Ness, Teresa (James) Mattison, Jon Ness, Jeffrey (Naomi) Ness and Rachel (Scott) Berger; 14 grandchildren Joshua Mattison, Michael Mattison, William (Billy) Mattison, Kathryn Tabor, Jillian Ness, Emily Ness, Anna Ness, Hank Berger, Sabrina Ness, Vaughn Berger, William (Will) Ness, Jacob Ness and Audrey Ness; 9 great-grandchildren; and too many friends to be named here.