Ricky Puckett was born on April 12, 1957 in Caraway, Arkansas, the ninth child to Cecil and Helen (Stone) Puckett. At the age of 69, surrounded by his family, he passed peacefully from his home in Heber Springs into Heaven’s gates on April 16, 2026. He was a beloved husband to his lifelong love, Sherri (Price); a hero to his four children, Amie Adams (and Jeremy), Katie Medrano (and Kody), Laural Hoofman (and Jimmy), Blayk Puckett (and Bailey); and the best Big Daddy around to his grandchildren, Hannah, Abigail, Jeremiah, Josiah, Keaton, Kyzer, and Kohen. In addition to his parents, he was preceded in death by his brothers Bob Wamble and Mike Puckett, and sisters Wanda Crawford and Ruth Thompson. Alongside the family he built, he is survived by his brothers Joe Puckett and Cecil Puckett and sisters Mary Taylor, Sheila Caruthers, and Jean Schrader, as well as more nephews, nieces, great nephews, great nieces, and friends than can be counted.

A dedicated worker, Ricky only had three jobs in his adult life. He serviced rice and house wells for Melvin and Hardwick in Wheatley, delivered eggs around the state for Caldwell’s in Rose Bud, and alongside his wife, opened his home to care for Lynn Crosby with the Community School of Cleburne County. In each role, he was more than a treasured asset, but also a dear friend. 

His work meant a lot to him, but it never kept him from what meant the most. He loved spending weekends taking his sweetheart to concerts in his Trans Am or taking his girls out to shoot snakes in the river. After those rock n roll days, you might find him cheering on a grandkid at a ball game, volunteering on stage at a magic show, or planning the next family reunion to get a bunch of Pucketts under one roof (which shows just how brave he really was).

Even though he loved the occasional scratch-off, Ricky was adamant about saving his hard-earned money, usually as stacks of one-dollar bills stuffed in a drawer or a five-gallon jug full of pennies. His summertime savings paid for family trips to Magic Springs or Branson, and for the rest of the year, he’d build it all back to make sure there were always plenty of Christmas presents under the tree. His family will never forget how hard he worked for every dollar, and how generously he spent it all to make them smile. 

Throughout his life, it didn’t matter if someone needed advice, a laugh from a silly joke, a friend to listen, or anything in between, Ricky was always there. He didn’t reserve that helpfulness only for family and friends, but anyone who crossed his path. Whether they called him Dad, Big Daddy, Uncle Rick, el Jefe, Mr. Eggman, or simply ‘that neighbor with the shiny red truck,’ Ricky was loved and cherished by every person who knew him, and they can’t wait to see him again.