Connie Sue Goggin

Connie Goggin, 70, of Belleview, Missouri, passed away at home on August 16, 2026, with her family by her side.

Connie was a lifelong Missourian at heart, and Belleview was always home. She grew up in the hollers and back country along A Road, near the Bell Mountain Wilderness Area. She loved being outside and surrounded by nature. She took long walks, spent time at Tish Hole, and, in her younger years, made an almost yearly pilgrimage to Peter’s Cave. She was a country girl; the woods, hills, and fields were always where she felt most at home.

Connie attended Belleview Elementary School and later graduated Valley High School in Caledonia. After high school, she spent several years traveling and living in Louisiana, Minnesota, and Oklahoma before returning to Missouri and settling again in Belleview.

Connie worked hard her entire life and did a little bit of everything. She worked as a secretary and in other jobs to support her family. She later attended Mineral Area College and earned her bookkeeping certification, putting her natural talent with numbers to good use.

For several years, Connie drove the Belleview School bus. She loved her bus kids and was not exactly the typical school bus driver. There was plenty of food, games, and even the occasional water-gun fight on HER bus.

Connie later became an assistant and bookkeeper at Belleview Valley Nursing Home, where she worked for many years. She was known for working hard, keeping things running smoothly, and knowing exactly what needed to be done. Even years later, people remembered her for her kindness and work ethic there.

In 2003, Connie married Steve Goggin in a small ceremony surrounded by close friends and family. That same year, Connie and Steve purchased Goggin Boarding Home from her mother-in-law, Goldie. Connie became the owner and administrator and remained at the helm of the home until her passing.

Connie loved being the boss—and everyone knew it. Things were going to be done her way. But underneath that strong personality was an enormous amount of compassion. She took people in when they had nowhere else to go, sometimes giving them a place to stay until they could get back on their feet. She donated to things her residents cared about and poured countless hours, patience, and love into the people who lived there. She ran the home like a boss, but she cared for her people like family.

That was Connie's way throughout her entire life. She had an open door.

Her home was a place where people could eat, sleep, be cared for, and feel like they belonged. Her nieces and nephews, her children's friends, and countless others found a place at her table. She never needed a formal reason to call someone family. If she loved you, you had a place with her. And no matter how long you had been gone, there was always a home to come back to.

Connie loved music. She always had it playing, and she made sure her children knew the words to the songs she loved. She especially enjoyed country, oldies and soft rock from the 1960s and 1970s, but more than anything, she loved music that told a story.

She loved movies, too—especially the ones filled with woods, and beautiful country scenery. Her love of nature followed her throughout her entire life. In more recent years, she enjoyed shows such as Yellowstone and The Madison, but she also had a soft spot for older television and loved the 1950s show Fury.

Connie enjoyed puzzles and video games and had a sharp mind that never seemed to slow down. She was smart, quick-witted, and good with numbers. If she didn't know how to do something, she had a way of figuring it out—and making it look like she knew exactly what she was doing all along.

She was kind and loving, but she was also Connie. If you made her mad, she had no problem telling you exactly what she thought. Her words could be straightforward, but they usually came from a place of caring. She was strong, stubborn, funny, fiercely protective, and incredibly loyal.

And she was strong.

Connie faced more than most people ever should have had to face, including three different cancers, multiple injuries, and illness. Yet somehow, she kept going.

She was like a river. When something stood in her way, she either went straight through it with everything she had, or she found another way around it. Nothing easily stopped her.

Her greatest accomplishment, however, was never a job, a business, or anything she owned. It was the people she loved and cared for.

Connie is survived by her husband, Stephen; her daughters, Melissa and Stephanie, and son-in-law Isaac; her grandchildren, Ethan, Jacob, and Finn; and Melissa's former husband and dear friend, Gary.

She is also survived by the family she gained through marriage and loved as her own: her sons James, and Yancy and daughter-in-laws Amanda and Robin; as well as her grandchildren from marriage: Randi, Jaylin, Tappan, Wyatt, Tiffany, and Christopher.

She is survived by her sister Sheary and brother-in-law Bill, and their nephew Billie; and her deeply loved brother Larry and sister-in-law Angie, and her niece Amanda.

Connie also leaves behind Jessica, Jenny, Sheena, and Harley, nieces and nephews by marriage whom she loved as her own.

She will be deeply missed by her best friend, Sheila, along with countless friends, extended family members, former residents, coworkers, and others whose lives she touched.

Connie was preceded in death by her parents, JR and Beulah, and her brother, Ricky.

She will be deeply loved and missed by all lives she has touched. Her door is still open, just gotta knock on heaven's gate first. 

A visitation will be held at Bryson Chapel in Pilot Knob on Wednesday, August 19, 2026 from 11:00 am until the time of service at 1:00 pm. A burial at Ottery Cemetery will follow.