Robert Dale Barry Jr.

Robert “Bob” Dale Barry Jr., of Harrison, Arkansas, passed away on Saturday, June 28, 2025, at his home, surrounded by family. Born February 17, 1944, in Rockford, Illinois, and raised in Danville, Illinois, he was the son of Robert Dale Barry Sr. and Jacqueline Mary Copsy Woods.

Robert married his beloved wife, Beth Barry, on September 4, 1982, in Burnet, Texas. He was a family man and loved them all dearly.

Bob was a United States Air Force veteran and served as a jet fighter mechanic before spending many years as a truck driver for Big T Transfer in New Albany, Indiana. He also enjoyed motorcycles and rode with his brothers of the Son of the KY’s out of Kokomo, Indiana. In retirement, he turned those same steady hands to plumbing, wiring, and mechanical repair—always ready to fix what was broken.

He was a devoted Christian, and he enjoyed playing the guitar, talking on C.B. radio, fishing, and watching television. A talented musician with a deep love for gospel music, he once visited Bill Gaither’s Recording Studio, where he recorded Christian music the Lord gave him and proudly shared it with friends and family. He also maintained a lifelong fascination with his father’s leadership of the Twentieth Century UFO Bureau.

Bob was preceded in death by his daughter, Katrina Ann Barry, and by his parents.

Bob’s survivors are his wife, Beth Barry of Harrison; daughters, Crystal Ann Barry of Harrison and Deena of Florida; sons, Chris Rust, Troy Dale Fisher of Kokomo, Indiana, and David Greston McCoy of Harrison; and grandsons, Evan Rust, Jake Fisher, and Triston Mikhail David Winterrowd. He is also survived by many other loving grandchildren and great-grandchildren, a brother, Tom Barry, and sisters, Terry Rutledge and Vicky Reynolds.

A Celebration of Life will be held at a later date.

Daddy’s Hands

By Crystal A Barry

In the Father’s hands, all love begins to flow, He taught my daddy what a child should know. Now I share the touch that shaped my way, then yield his hands into His grace today.

Daddy’s hands taught me to give more than I took, they taught me how to fish, even how to bait a hook. With calloused palms and a steady look, they schooled my heart beyond any book.

Daddy’s hands taught me to splice each wire, to crank each wrench through sweat and grime. They fueled my faith, stoked my fire, and prepared my soul for the test of time.

Daddy’s hands taught me to stand when no man stood by, Lifted me up through every tear and cry. They taught me manhood’s gentle art and left a strength I carry in my heart.

Daddy’s hands grew weary, their firm grip could not stay, I rose to be that man and stand for him each day. Now I yield his hand to the Father’s sacred hold, Let His loving hands carry him home as told.

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