Richard J Bonk

Richard John Bonk, a devoted husband, faithful Catholic, beloved family member, and gentle, steady presence in the lives of so many, died on September 16, 2026, in Irvine, California, in the arms of his beloved wife, Stella. He was almost 101 years old.

Richard was born on October 6, 1925, in Chicago, Illinois, to Joseph P. Bonk and Marie F. Mezydlo Bonk. He was raised in a large and loving Polish-American family and was one of seven children. He is survived by his twin sisters, MaryAnn Morreale and JoAnn Todey. His family remained a source of deep connection throughout his life.

Richard’s youth reflected the era in which he grew up. Before modern refrigerators became commonplace, he delivered large blocks of ice to homes for use in household iceboxes. As a teenager, he also worked at the University of Chicago as a “gofer” associated with the Manhattan Project.

After attending parochial school, Richard enlisted in the United States Army during World War II. He served as a radio operator in the Signal Corps of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the wartime intelligence organization that later became the foundation for the CIA. He served as a corporal in Central Europe during four major campaigns, including the Ardennes, Northern France, and the Rhineland.

Following the war, Richard earned a degree in electrical engineering from the Illinois Institute of Technology and began a career that took him from Chicago to Southern California. He worked on the construction of nuclear power plants, first with Brown & Root and ultimately with Bechtel Power Corporation, from which he retired.

In 1949, Richard married Virginia M. “Ginny” Dietz in Chicago. They later moved from Chicago to California as Richard’s engineering career developed. When Ginny’s parents, Charles and Mary Dietz, moved with them, Richard welcomed them into their home and helped care for and support them until their deaths. His willingness to take responsibility for the people around him was characteristic of him throughout his life.

Richard was an original resident of Irvine’s Turtle Rock development and remained deeply connected to his community. For more than 60 years, he was a faithful parishioner of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Catholic Church. His involvement took many forms, including serving as a collection counter and volunteering with the St. Vincent de Paul Society.

Most importantly, Richard’s faith was not simply something he practiced on Sundays. For much of his life, he attended daily Mass, walking to and from church. This quiet spiritual and physical discipline became a defining part of his life and contributed to the vitality he maintained well into his later years.

After Ginny’s death in 1995, Richard’s life took another beautiful turn when he became acquainted with Stella Johnson through their church. They married on July 11, 1998, and shared a loving marriage for more than 28 years.

Richard embraced Stella’s large Latin family with the same warmth and acceptance that characterized his relationships throughout his life. Their home was a welcoming place for family and visitors of all kinds. He even ventured far beyond his familiar Southern California surroundings, traveling with Stella and her family to Bogotá, Colombia, Europe, and Costa Rica on several occasions.

There was a sweetness to Richard and Stella’s marriage that was unmistakable. Stella would sometimes ask him in Spanish, “¿Quién es todo mío?” — “Who is all mine?” Richard would simply answer, “Yo” — “Me.”

That little exchange captured the gift of their marriage. They belonged completely to each other. Their relationship was affectionate, caring, playful, and deeply devoted. Richard brought Stella some of the happiest years of her life, and their love was a blessing to everyone fortunate enough to witness it.

Richard was also a beloved godfather to Caroline (Bonk) Belt, Cathy Cunningham, Donald Lenihan, Scott Mikel, and Laurie Morreale.

Richard was known for his kindness, humility, and steady presence. In his younger years, he loved to golf and ski. He enjoyed his regular meals and even had prescribed sandwiches for certain days. He loved sweets, and there were often bowls of them around the house. He had a particular fondness for Baskin-Robbins Gold Medal Ribbon ice cream.

But it was Richard’s presence, more than his accomplishments, that people will remember. He had a sweet smile and a twinkle in his eye. His warm embraces and long, gentle hugs were a signature of this kind and loving man. He created a sense of peace around him simply by being there.

At his 100th birthday, Richard’s family asked whether he had any regrets in life. He immediately answered, “Yes.”

His family waited to hear what great regret could possibly remain after a century of life.

“I wanted to be an altar boy,” he explained.

When he was young, a nun at his church chose another boy instead because that boy could speak Polish better than Richard.

It was a wonderfully Richard story: humble, sincere, faithful, and just a little funny. Perhaps, in the end, it also said something profound about the life he had lived. Richard was a man at peace with himself, his God, and the people around him. He lived with trust, devotion, and an extraordinary capacity to accept and love the people who came into his life.

Richard will be deeply missed by his wife, Stella; his family; his godchildren and stepchildren; his friends; and all who had the privilege of knowing him.

He leaves behind not only a century of memories, but a life that was deeply and genuinely loved. His manner, his faith, his kindness, and the love he shared with Stella will remain a blessing to all who knew him.