Amos Derby Hoyt, lifelong NH resident, died quietly on January 28, 2026, after 95 years of not so quiet living. He left a trail of memories among all who knew him, fueled by his keen sense of amusement and instigating nature, his delight of making something out of nothing, his unrivaled stubborn streak, an acute sense of justice, and his contempt for idiot-ocracy---all of which were softened by his own brand of compassion for and benevolence toward those he found worthy. Adjusting to a world without the unforgettable Amos is going to take some time.

Amos was born in Hanover, NH on January 7, 1931, to Amos Currier Hodgkins Hoyt and his wife Mildred Vell Derby Hoyt. He largely grew up in Hanover, with his four older sisters. During his early years, he attended the one room schoolhouse in Hanover Center where his teacher, Mrs. Grasse, surely had her hands full, but definitely provided him a memorable education. His childhood was shaped by the depression years and WW II, which his mother---equally unforgettable--managed to successfully navigate by allowing young Amos and his youngest sister Dorothy, to free range throughout the Hanover Center/ Etna area while she worked outside the home. In their later years, Amos and Dorothy spent many hours reminiscing about their mischievous antics, which most notably included accidentally burning down the "potato chip factory" they set up in a canvas tent somewhere near the common in Hanover Center, and making sport out of spitting into the drinking water well on the common. No doubt, these childhood shenanigans were a big reason Amos later kept a very short leash on his own kids, while also teaching them to use their imaginations to have fun.

Because the depression shaped his early life, Amos was thrifty---reusing, creatively repurposing, improving and fixing anything he had. He especially loved fixing up old model A's and model T's. He was a self-described mechanic, and by nature, an INVENTOR. When he had or saw a need, his first instinct was to create whatever was necessary to address that need, and to do it for free if possible. He encouraged friends, relatives, and students to do the same. This allowed him to pull himself up by his bootstraps more than once when life dealt him a blow and he helped many others do the same. There was always a work project to keep children from boredom and to keep them out of trouble. The projects were not optional but taught many life lessons and skills.

Amos graduated Hanover High School in 1949, where he met his wife, Donna Clara Somerville. He and Donna married in 1950, subsequently relocating to Florida while Amos proudly served in the Navy as a parachute rigger and manager of safety and emergency equipment during the Korean war.

Following his discharge from the Navy, Amos and Donna returned with daughter Jane to NH, where Amos attended Keene Teachers College, earning a Bachelor's degree in teaching in 1958. While in Keene, Amos and Donna had two more children, Pamela and James. During the very lean Keene years, Amos had ample reason to perfect his frugality and ability to make something worthwhile out of practically nothing. Jane and Pam recall that making popcorn was a huge culinary treat, especially when Amos forgot to put the cover on the pot and filled the kitchen with flying kernels and laughter. They also recall happily spending Saturday mornings watching cartoons huddled under a "blanket tent" that encapsulated the TV in order to provide the darkness needed to see the picture, because the TV screen was failing.

After college, Amos returned to the Upper Valley with his growing family (daughter Ellen arrived soon thereafter), where he taught Industrial Arts at Hanover High School for a number of years. In one word Amos was a TEACHER all the years of his life. Even though he later quit classroom-based teaching to work for himself in the construction industry, he never quit teaching and mentoring young people. He loved to share what he knew with anyone he was with. In everything he did, someone learned at least a little and, in more cases than not, they learned a lot. His biggest joys in life involved family, especially his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He challenged them to challenge themselves and to take risks. He continually found ways to show them that simplicity in life can be a source of joy. He was a "kid magnet" until the end---children wanted to come and be shown how to do things with him and the rest of the family.

Upon retirement in 1993, Amos moved to Wilmot, NH where he delighted in having his many grandkids stay for adventuresome visits and "work details". Memories of Thanksgivings in Wilmot imprinted the importance of family on all of his grandkids----and a number of strays who joined in for the simple joy of being part of a big energetic family with its unforgettable patriarch. This is where Amos began the tradition of blowing up the turkey carcass after dinner---his way of ensuring there would be no turkey soup, which he abhorred. As the years wore on, the "turkey canon" became more and more sophisticated as grandchildren worked to perfect it. This admittedly irreverent, but certainly entertaining, "launching of the turkey" became something of a sporting event in the neighborhood, entertaining guests and neighbors during the break between the eating the main course and having pie. Amos loved pie and was dutifully back in his chair at the head of the table after the launching, wearing his trademark construction paper pilgrim hat and a big grin.

Moving from Wilmot to Roger's House in Lebanon, Amos found new ways to entertain and challenge himself and others. Practical jokes, musical gatherings (thank you Nancy and Mark) pub nights, strategically placed pumpkin people, and free-ranging trips on scooters around Lebanon to supervise construction projects and investigate "happenings", helped to fill his days. Former students and acquaintances from his storied past escapades, brought great joy to him with their visits. Unfortunately, the COVID years took a real toll on Amos, as his health, eyesight and hearing began to fail, making it almost impossible for him to accept what the post-COVID world had become. His dear friend, Juliette King, was his constant companion, bringing joy and comfort to his days as his world shrank and he lost his independence. He moved to Hanover Terrace a year ago, to receive the 24-hour care he needed. Even with Juliette by his side and family to assist, it was very hard for the fiercely independent minded Amos to adjust to the confining life of a nursing home, with no real outlet for exercising his mind in satisfying ways.

Amos is pre-deceased by his parents, four sisters: Janet Thompson, Helen Smith, Elizabeth Jones, and Dorothy Smart, his former wife Donna Somerville, and his son James Hoyt. He is survived by his three daughters, Jane Plumley and husband Steve, Pamela Hoyt-Denison and husband Tim and Ellen Hackeman and husband Lloyd, his cherished friend Juliette King and her awesome children, his 9 grandchildren, and 12 great-grandchildren and many beloved nieces and nephews. He is also survived by the many memories and lessons he left for the living. As end of life drew nearer, Amos wondered if he had made a difference during his life. He did. The unforgettable Amos left his family to keep his legacy and lessons going, and they will.