Herbert Arnold Hill, 75, left this world on February 27, 2022 after an extended illness. He passed away at the Richard Campbell Veterans Nursing Home in Anderson, SC. Graveside funeral services will be held at two o’clock p.m., Friday, March 4, 2022 in the Denmark Cemetery with full military honors accorded. Memorial contributions may be given to the Wounded Warrior Project, PO Box 758516, Topeka, KS 66675-8516 or Marines Toys for Tots, Gift Processing Center, 18251 Quantico Gateway Drive, Triangle, VA 22172, https://www.toysfortots.org/donate/.
Born in Orangeburg, SC, he was a son of the late A J. and Gwen Hill. He served in the Marines during the Vietnam War and was a Purple Heart Recipient. He worked and later retired from SCE & G after 33 years of service.
Survivors include his wife Karen Hill; a brother Mike (Denise) Hill; son John Hill; a daughter Tommie Layden; 3 grandchildren Brynn, Roane, and Bae Layden.
In addition to his parents, he was preceded in death by a brother Tommy Hill and a son William Troy Hill.
To know “The Black Sheep,” well . . . it was an experience! There was never a question of where you stood in his life; you instantly knew. Be it in a restaurant across the country or the local trash dump, seemed someone always yelled his name! He knew everybody! He could ‘shoot the s**t’ for hours with old or new friends.
He loved the Marine Corps, the country he fought for his family – especially his children and grandchildren, his kinda people, the Great Smoky Mountains, good music, and a drink of George Dickel (white label). With 20 of his closest friends on a Jeep trip through Harmon Den or a ‘cook in the yard’ night, it was unpredictable but an absolute good time!
You would always hear him before you’d see him. He whistled when he was happy and bored – which was a lot . . . could whistle ANYTHING! His ear for tune and tone was amazing. He never learned to read music, but could spit out the prettiest sounds. The signature was nicely polished cowboy boots, jeans that would stand up by themselves (perfectly creased), and that precisely folded bandanna hanging out of his back pocket. He had a dresser drawer which only held all those bandannas; each folded like they were on a sale display.
He loved clean, American made fast cars, Harley Davidsons and everything that those things led him to. He had an incredible knack for taking the ordinary and making it one of a kind. His mind was creative and vast for a long time. He was so passionate about projects . . . and life, and knew EXACTLY what he wanted. As the ending days drew near, his family knew his legacy was perfectly tied with a symmetrical worn piece of leather, black duct tape, or a black zip tie – and his triangular bandana gently tossing the final wave.
The loud, outspoken, wild, handsome, well-groomed, long haired, zip tying, good time having, bad word saying, tremendously lovable gruff ole’ dancing cowboy will never be duplicated.
“Hamma down,” Sheep.
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