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Jon Timothy Arneson was changeable as a crisp fall wind; he might decide that rapelling off a cliff with the aid of a garden hose would be the endeavor of the moment, perhaps a bit of blacksmithing and weapons forgery - a jagged dagger with inlaid melted copper pennies. Maybe sail upriver in a canoe in the teeth of a gale. Anyone up for bicycle polo, helmets optional? Flint napping, painting, carving, writing, and spear-throwing, to name just a few flights he was given to. His varied interests and the pursuit of wild artistic expression knew no bounds: anything to inspire the passions of his four inquisitive children.
Though few new him well, those who did—quickly realized they were in the company of a true original, enigmatic would be as close a word as one could hope to find. With the aid of a couple of beers- possibly one too many, you might soon find yourself engaged in a story of human nature, keenly observed, richly textured, replete with spot on impressions…So vivid were the tales, many pass them on as their own, “not a repudiation” but the ultimate compliment to a storyteller of the highest order—the human order.
Survivors include his children, Andrew, Leaf, Tyler, and Elley; his siblings James and Deborah, and his grandchildren; Phoebe, Bo, Daisy, and Augustus.
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Susan Axe (O'Leary)
(By friend Ed Kemmick): Arn died of cancer in 2015 in Billings, though he'd last been living near Belfry, a frequent haunt over the years. He has four children and a passel of grandchildren. And goddamn it but he was a good man.
Mark Cannon
I am sad to hear he pased.
We were together as Highschool teenagers on the rims. About four of us. We were going around around a cliff face on an Indian trail scratched into the sandstone.Over by Zimmerman Trail. That little spit of a trail was like 15 inches wide. The trail curved around the face of the cliff. The trail was probably 150 long. once you started you just kept going. You had to. As you went along the drop increased. It got steeper as you went along on the trail. Your face was pointed into the cliff, your back was to the open air. There came a point where the cliff face slanted outward. Thats when I lost all sense of balance. I couldn't move or I would have fallen. It would have been a 60 to 70 foot drop minimum. Big rocks to land on. Tim had gone first and had no trouble whatsoever. He figured out that I was in deep shit! He got back on the trail and hustled back to where I was. His hand touched the back of my hand that was pressing against the cliff face. I couldn't move. His hand touching mine oriented me and my balance. I then able to keep going. Without him coming back I would have fallen. I know he saved my life.
I still do and will always remember him coming back for me.
Rest In peace Tim.