Will Kenny

Will Kenny, 75, died Wednesday August 20, 2025, in his Robbinsdale home surrounded by his girls.

Will was born March 26, 1950, in Port Jervis, New York, to Clare and Cecilia Kenny. He met the love of his life, Linda Samide, in kindergarten and was married to her for 54 years. They often smooched in public (much to their children’s embarrassment).

After graduating from McGill University (Montreal), he and Linda ended up in Robbinsdale. Despite his east coast origins, he became a true-blue Minnesotan, and (with Linda) part of the loudest row at Ridder Arena, supporting the Gophers women’s ice hockey team. He was a student and teacher of Irish Gaelic for over 40 years. In 2017, he was honoured by Minnesota's Irish Music and Dance Association for his decades of leadership of Gaeltacht Minnesota, which provides Gaelic teaching and promotes the Irish language in the Twin Cities. He was also a proud member of Rock Steady Boxing, an essential community and support for people with Parkinson’s Disease.

Will was known for his funny t-shirts (“I scare my own family”), love for dark beer, trademark ponytail, and sarcastic humor. His idea of pop culture was 1950s musicals – and he made sure his daughters (and granddaughter) could quote every Gene Kelly movie by heart. He lived in continual hope, but perpetual disappointment, of seeing the Habs win the Stanley Cup, and of experiencing the Northern Lights (he missed them everywhere he went).

Will is survived by his wife, Linda; daughters, Meryl (Josh) and Derin (Dan); firecracker granddaughter, Kiva; siblings, Jane, Mick (Joyce), and Jude (Vince); and many nephews and nieces. He was preceded in death by his brothers, Jack and Ray.

He had a range of different “day jobs”, but the job that he was proudest of was “Dad.” He drove his daughters to every performance, read every paper, French braided their hair, cheered them along through each milestone and taught them they could be whatever they wanted to be when they grew up. He treated their husbands – Josh and Dan – like they were his own sons. He was the “best gramps ever” to Kiva, age 7, with whom he exchanged jokes weekly (“What did the little corn say to the mama corn? Where is pop corn?”).

A memorial is planned for the spring. Donations in his memory may be made to the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research.