Paul “Pappie” Marius van Driest Jr., 84, passed away peacefully on June 19, 2026, in St. Louis, Missouri, surrounded by his loving family. Paul was the treasured son of Paul Marius Sr. and Roelfine J.G. (Ludeling) van Driest of Ermelo, the Netherlands. He was the beloved husband of 37 years to Stephanie Anne (Hayes) van Driest; devoted father of Paul Thomas (Jennifer) and Brian Douglas van Driest; proud grandfather of Jocelyn and Natalie; and cherished lifelong friend of fellow Dutchman, Peter Bolten, whom he considered a brother. Becoming a grandfather was, as he often said, an “added bonus” – one of his life’s greatest and most unexpected blessings.
When Paul was born on August 11, 1941, his parents were Dutch residents of the Aceh province, located on the northern tip of the island of Sumatra in Indonesia. His father managed a rubber plantation, overseeing business between Indonesia and the Netherlands, and his mother devoted herself to caring for their family. At just three months old, and during the height of World War II, Paul and his parents were imprisoned in internment camps in Indonesia. Paul remained with his mother while his father was held separately. It wasn’t until Paul was 4 years old that the war ended, and they were released in 1945. Paul’s mother was immediately hospitalized due to the conditions she endured, and his dad, after his health recovered, returned to his business enterprise in Indonesia and the Netherlands. As a result of his mother’s hospitalization and father’s business travel, Paul stayed with various friends of the family throughout his childhood. The hardships Paul and his family endured during those years shaped the resilience that he carried throughout his life.
Paul spent his childhood in the Netherlands, where he attended school and unknowingly began a friendship that would last the rest of his life. It began when Paul’s father visited the dental practice of Peter Bolten’s father. During their visit, they discovered they each had a young son nearly the same age. That chance meeting sparked a friendship between Paul and Peter that would endure for more than seven decades, and even after they both left Holland, Peter remained as Paul’s closest friend and the brother he never had.
In 1962, at 21 years old, Paul and his parents immigrated to the United States of America and settled in Los Angeles, California. Paul’s father started a lawn care business while his mother became a nurse. Paul worked alongside his father while earning his high school degree and then tried his hand at taxi-driving.
In 1966, Paul was hired on with Trans World Airlines (TWA) as a ramp agent and later became a parts manager for the maintenance team. In the early 1980’s, as part of the airline’s reorganization, TWA offered Paul three relocation options – New York City, Boston, or St. Louis. Years later, Paul jokingly reflected that he chose St. Louis because it was “the lesser of three evils.” Though in reality, it turned out to be one of the best decisions of his life.
A few years after relocating to St. Louis, Paul was introduced to Stephanie through a mutual friend, Darla Herbst. A blind date was arranged for February 1986, but Stephanie came down with a cold and postponed their meeting. Paul would have to wait six months before their first date finally took place in August at The Pasta House. As it turned out, the wait was well worth it. At the end of the date, Stephanie bravely asked, “Would you mind if I called you?” With his characteristic practicality, Paul replied, “Why would I mind?” Stephanie later recalled that there was “just something about him” that, within a month of their first date, she confidently knew she was going to marry Paul. On May 20, 1989, Paul and Stephanie were married, and they stayed in St. Louis to raise their sons and build a life together. From that blind date began a love story that would lead to 37 years of marriage and a lifetime of shared memories.
Paul continued working for TWA through their acquisition by American Airlines. In 2006, he retired after a 40-year career in aviation.
It was when he became a father in 1990, and again, in 1994, that he earned the name “Pappie,” and later, it was the only name his young granddaughters knew to call him. Pappie’s greatest joy was simply being their husband, father, and grandfather, and he loved his family with all his heart. His sons recall that Pappie would always be available to talk about anything. His sons knew they could expect a phone call nearly every day – if not for conversation, then at least a voicemail reminding them that he loved them and was thinking about them.
Pappie was very proud of his Dutch heritage. Pappie served up Dutch pannenkoeken, poffertijes, kroepoer, and croquettes, and there was always fresh gouda cheese for snacking. For Christmas (or Sinterklaas), he and Stephanie would give traditional Dutch chocoladeletters to each family member. Around the house, one could often hear “alsjeblieft” (please), “dank je wel” (thanks a lot), and “gezondheid” (bless you). Nothing made Pappie prouder than seeing his Dutch traditions instilled in his granddaughters. Pappie’s face lit up with pride when he first learned his oldest son, too, makes poffertijes and pannenkoeken and serves beschuits and stroopwafels to Pappie’s granddaughters. When he’d travel to the Netherlands, he’d take an empty suitcase and return with it filled to the brim with Dutch cuisine and medicines, including the infamous paracetamol, which he vowed could cure just about anything.
In his later years, Pappie faithfully took his daily vitamins and always had a remedy – usually a Dutch one – for any ailment. He was affectionately nicknamed “Dr. van Driest” by his daughter-in-law, who could always crack his serious demeanor with a chuckle. In addition to fixing your health, Pappie could also fix any gadget or electronic. Pappie had a hobby of proving that “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” He delighted in finding discarded treasures, restoring them, and giving them new life. At one point in his treasure-hunting, he had amassed an entire bin of forgotten toys that he lovingly cleaned and spruced up so his granddaughters would have something special to play with during their weekly visits. And when the treasure-hunting and caregiving slowed down, one could often find Pappie reading the news of the day in the newspaper, on his laptop, and on his phone, to keep his mind sharp as he debated world events and politics with his sons.
Pappie’s love was most often expressed through acts of service rather than words. Whether repairing a broken gadget, preserving Dutch traditions, checking in with a daily phone call, or lovingly restoring toys for his granddaughters, he found purpose in caring for the people he loved. His greatest satisfaction came from knowing his family was supported, cared for, and deeply loved.
In keeping with Pappie’s wishes, no public memorial service will be held. Instead, his life will be celebrated by his close family and friends in a gathering that reflects the optimism, humor, and sincerity that defined him. In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to Wings of Hope or BackStoppers, two St. Louis organizations that were special to Pappie.
https://wingsofhope.ngo/donate/
https://backstoppers.org/donate/