Kevin Martin Stohlman

The greatest legacy a person can leave is the way they made others feel. Kevin left us with love. ♥

Celebration of Life
We'll be holding a celebration of Kevin's life, and everyone who knew him is welcome: family, friends, coworkers, or anyone who shared even a small part of his world. Kevin loved when people came together. He lit up in those moments, surrounded by conversation, connection, and laughter. That's exactly how we want to honor him.

This won't be a quiet goodbye. He wouldn't have wanted that. Kevin would have wanted joy. He would have wanted music playing, good food being shared, and stories that made you laugh even as your eyes welled up. He believed the best way to remember someone was to celebrate them through love, memory, and time spent together.

The date, time, and location will be shared once they're finalized. 
If you'd like to stay informed or have any questions, please reach out to his daughter, Rebekah, at 916-896-6406. 

Guestbook—A Collection of Kevin's Impact
If you knew Kevin, whether for a moment or a lifetime, we ask that you take a minute to share something in the guestbook. This is more than just a place to say a few kind words. It's a space to share the moments that stood out. A story, a memory, a photo, or something he said that stayed with you. Whether you're able to come to the celebration of life or not, we truly want everyone to add something. 

The guestbook will be printed and kept by the family as a keepsake. A way to reflect on how many lives he touched and to carry those words with us always. It will mean the world to have your voice included in it. 

The guestbook is located at the bottom of this page. Please don't leave without sharing. Every memory matters. Every story helps us see more of who he was to those around him.

The Gentle Legacy That Anchors Us
Some people move through the world loudly. 
Kevin didn't have to. He carried a calm that softened even the heaviest of days. 
The kind of man who walked with quiet grace and a steady heart, and somehow made everything feel a little more okay just by being there. 

To know Kevin was to know comfort. 
Not the kind that asked for attention, but the kind that wrapped around you quietly. 
Steady, familiar, and deeply kind. He was soft-spoken, but never small. His presence filled a room like still water. Reflective, grounding, and impossible to ignore. 

Every Place, a Piece of Him
Kevin was born in Washington, D.C., and throughout his life called many places home, including Spokane, Saratoga, Sacramento, Fresno, and Yuba City. Each place held its own chapter of his story, with memories of family, lifelong friends, and homes he built with care. He had a way of turning any house into a home. Not with things, but with warmth, laughter, and the kind of welcome that made everyone feel like they belonged. He eventually settled in Lincoln, where he spent his later years surrounded by love and the people who mattered most. 

A Man of Many Gifts
He was a man of all trades. If something was broken, he could fix it. And if he didn't know how, he'd figure it out. His hands were always building something: a garden bed, a meal, a table, a memory. He was the one you called when you needed help, advice, or just someone to sit with you. And he always showed up. Quietly. Consistently. Without fanfare or expectation. 

Kevin had a passion for life's simple joys. He baked like he meant it, cooked like it was an act of love, and filled people's hearts and stomachs without ever needing to be asked. He found peace in the garden, pride in growing his own fruits and vegetables, and joy in tending to his hummingbirds. 

But it was through his woodworking that his quiet love truly came to life. He could build anything with his hands: tables, benches, frames, shelves. Each piece crafted with patience, care, and intention. His woodworking was more than a craft. It was love made visible, carved into something lasting. Every project carried his quiet touch and now lives on as a reminder of the steadiness, thoughtfulness, and heart he brought to everything he did. 

What He Loved Most
Kevin found joy in simple things: fishing at his favorite spots, golfing with his friends and family, backpacking through nature with loved ones, barbecuing under open skies, and sharing stories over a good meal. He was never happier than when he was with the people he loved. His siblings were more than family. They were his closest friends. Their bond was rooted in laughter, loyalty, and a lifetime of shared memories. One of his most cherished places was the family cabin, built together with love and filled with moments that meant everything to him. But above all, it was his children, Rebekah and Josiah, who held his heart. They were his greatest joy, his purpose, and the peace he carried with him every day. And they loved him just as deeply. He wasn't just their dad. He was their best friend. 

A Quiet Kind of Love
To be around Kevin was to feel safe. He listened with patience. He welcomed without judgement. He gave without keeping score. He met people where they were and loved them as they came. Whether you knew him for a lifetime or a moment, you remembered how he made you feel. Lighter. Seen. And somehow whole. He didn't try to leave a legacy. He lived one. Kevin didn't ask for anything. And somehow, he gave everything. That was his gift. A quiet kind of love that expected nothing and offered everything. 

Survived By
Kevin is survived by his children, Rebekah and Josiah; his parents, Howard and Kathleen Stohlman; and his siblings, Howard Stohlman Jr., Donna Wehner, and his twin brother, Doug Stohlman. 

He is also lovingly remembered by his sisters-in-law, Kim and Lynda Stohlman, and his brother-in-law, Joel Wehner. 

His life was deeply intertwined with his nieces and nephews: Steven, Will, Tim, and Matt Stohlman; Jonathan Wehner; Elizabeth and Jessica Stohlman. He also shared a special bond with Tim's wife, Talya Stohlman, and their children, Talon and Tayva, Kevin's great-niece and great-nephew. 

Kevin shared a close bond with his extended family, including his cousins: Linda Frechette, Loree Saberin, Jack Laflin, Rozann Mouck, Matt Stohlman, and John Stohlman. He also remained close to his aunt and uncle, Eileen and Alan Laflin. 

Kevin continued to hold a meaningful place in the lives of his step daughters, Tamarra Clark and Daisha Wade, and their children: Ivy Hoffman, Daxia Sexton; Jakhai, Jaidis, and Khamoni Wade. He loved them all deeply and wholeheartedly, as family. 

A reflection of him, written by the one who knew him as Dad — Rebekah