A Celebration of Life Open House to honor the life and legacy of Tom Erickson will be held Saturday, November 8, 2025, from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m. at LaCanne Family Celebration of Life Center in Jackson. Friends are invited to drop in, share stories, and enjoy the music that filled Tom's life. Cremation has taken place, with interment to follow at a later date.

Thomas "Tom" Luke Erickson, age 90, of Jackson, Minnesota, passed away peacefully on November 2, 2025, at the Good Samaritan Society in Jackson.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you raise a glass, tell a tall story, or play an Elvis song—and, in Tom's words, "Hell, I can't start a tornado; double my fire !"

Tom was born on August 17, 1935, in St. Paul, Minnesota, to Andrew and Katherine (Lange) Erickson. After graduating from high school, he began what became a lifelong love affair with food, people, and a good story.

At just 16 years old, in 1951, Tom went to work for the Northern Pacific Railroad, where he spent the next ten years learning the art of cooking in a dining car that rolled from Chicago to Seattle. Living in Forest Lake, he'd rise before dawn, grab a flashlight, and walk out to the tracks to flag down the early Duluth-to-St. Paul train. The engineer would stop to pick him up and carry him to the depot, where he caught the "big train." That rolling kitchen became his classroom, teaching him to feed a crowd, improvise with whatever he had, and keep his cool when the stove—or the passengers—got too hot.

Tom later brought those lessons home to Jackson, where he owned and operated restaurants for decades. His food was hearty, his humor sharper than his knives, and his advice—solicited or not—was always free. He lived by his own mottos: "Never out of soup till you're out of water," "Burn it black and scrape 'er brown," and "Just like baloney—always ready." He could size up anyone with a grin and a one-liner:

"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

"Didn't know you drank 'til I seen you sober."

And the immortal: "A fartin' man never tires; a fartin' man's the man to hire."

Those sayings—equal parts wisdom, mischief, and working-man poetry—made him unforgettable to the thousands who stopped by for a meal, a beer, or just to hear what he'd say next.

Tom loved cars as much as conversation—from his red-and-black '56 Ford Fairlane to his yellow '47 Pontiac convertible, he appreciated a clean car, a loud engine, and a little flash on the open road. Music was never far behind: Elvis, Alabama, Earl Thomas Conley, John Conlee, and Reba McEntire were always playing somewhere in the background. And if you put "My Way" on repeat, you'd have his story set to music.

He was preceded in death by his wife, Karen (Dahl) Erickson, and his parents, Andrew and Katherine Erickson, and Mike Erickson, his brother.

Tom is survived by his four children: Kristin (Rick) Tufvesson, Lisa (Dave) Ringkob, Karin (Keith) Eggink, and Greg (Susan) Erickson; as well as his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, each of whom carry a little of his humor, independence, and grit.