Norman Konstantin Claassen, age 69, passed away on March 18, 2026. He was born on January 14, 1957, in Frankfurt, Germany, to Warren D. Claassen (deceased) and Waltraud Munyan.
Norman was recently united in marriage to his beloved wife, Eydie Angel Forte, on June 25, 2025. Together they made their home in Dupont, Washington, where they had just begun building a new life rooted in faith, love, and shared purpose. Norman was deeply proud of Eydie and her recent accomplishment as a first-time author with the release of her book, The Dark Side of Beauty. He had just begun his second reading at the time of his passing, having remarked after his first, “It would have taken eight years of marriage to know everything I learned about you in that book.” His admiration and support for her inspired him to begin plans to write and publish a book of his own.
Though Norman never had children of his own, he joyfully embraced Eydie’s family as his own. He is survived by his stepsons, Thomas Stephens and Cristopher Stephens (Julie); grandsons Rasaan Stephens (Kaycie), Yisrael Stephens, Sean Stephens, and Trey McDaniel; granddaughters Maya Stephens and Sienna Robinson; great-grandsons Jahkobi Stephens and Arurelio Lowe; and great-granddaughter Amira Lowe.
A devout Christian, Norman lived a life of quiet ministry. He had a deep and abiding love for God and for people—especially those who felt overlooked, burdened, or without resources. Many recall that he would appear at just the right moment in times of difficulty, offering help, wisdom, or provision without fanfare. To some, he seemed like an answered prayer.
Professionally, Norman was a master electronic and electrical technician whose expertise was sought by organizations including the United States Army, Navy, and Coast Guard, National Geographic, the Washington State Department of Corrections, Safeco Field, and Key Arena. His accomplishments were built on a humble Associate of Technical Arts in Electronics from Centralia Community College. Known for his ability to solve complex problems others could not, Norman often created innovative solutions on the spot, freely sharing his work without seeking patents or recognition.
At the time of his passing, Norman served as a Firearms Instructor at Glacier Gun Club in Olympia, Washington, and was an NRA Certified Police Firearms Instructor. His training work supported organizations such as National Geographic, Combined Arms Collective Training Facility, War Fighter Focus, and Joint Base Lewis-McChord, as well as training missions involving Special Forces, Marines, Army, Navy SEALs, and others.
Norman was also an accomplished athlete and outdoorsman. He held numerous Washington State, national, and world archery titles between 1988 and 1998 and served as a USA Olympic Archery Coach. As a fast draw competitor, he achieved a record-matching time of 1/200th of a second, tying with renowned marksman Bob Munden. He was an avid and conscientious bowhunter who carried a deep respect for the outdoors.
Beyond his professional and athletic accomplishments, Norman was a gifted musician who played guitar in several Christian bands throughout his life, including Ecclesia, Carpenter’s Apprentice, and Stratologeo. Music remained a lifelong passion, and he often spoke fondly of those years, reflecting that “we had a sound,” and occasionally expressed a desire to return to recording and performing.
Norman shared a lifelong friendship with David M. Masters, with whom he grew grew in the Lord with, attended Bible college, and co-founded Eternalight Studios in Centralia, Washington, in the 1980s. Their friendship spanned nearly five decades and was marked by shared faith, creative pursuits, and enduring mutual respect. Norman served as best man at David’s wedding, and David later returned that honor.
Those who knew Norman will remember his remarkable range of talents—his mastery of electronics, firearms, archery, and industrial electrical work—as well as his appreciation for fine guitars and his skill in games such as pool and darts. Yet above all, he will be remembered for his heart: his generosity, his faith, and his ability to meet people where they were, offering strength, compassion, and truth.
Norman’s passing leaves a profound void in the lives of many. His legacy lives on in the countless individuals he helped, encouraged, and uplifted throughout his life.
Friends and family are invited to share their stories, memories, and reflections below, as we honor and remember the many lives Norman touched.
Norman’s Obituary: Mountain View Funeral Home
In Tribute to My Friend, Norman
There are some relationships in life that don’t need explanation. They simply are. Norman was that for me. We were friends for 49 years and 9 months, long enough that I don’t really remember life without him in it. We grew up together in Aberdeen, Washington, sharing early years that would shape the rest of our lives in ways we couldn’t have understood at the time.
We were roommates. We played music together. We chased purpose together. We stood side by side in Christian bands like Ecclesia, Carpenter’s Apprentice, and Stratologeo. Norman played guitar, and together we created something that he would often reflect on later in life with a smile and say, “We had a sound.” And we did.
There was something pure about those days, something unpolished, but real. It wasn’t just music. It was calling. It was connection. It was two young men trying to figure out how to serve God with everything we had.
We went to Bible college together, both of us grounded in a shared love for Jesus that never left either of us, no matter where life took us. Later, we attended Centralia College, he in electronics, me in commercial art, working toward a vision we built together: Eternalight Studios. That studio wasn’t just a project. It was a reflection of who we were, creative, driven, and committed to doing something meaningful.
Even in the middle of those years, we had our simple rituals. We’d take breaks from campus and head to the Olympic Club in Centralia. Norman would sometimes run the pool tables, effortlessly, like everything else he seemed to touch. More often than not, he’d turn that into lunch money for us.
That was Norman, quietly excellent at things he never needed recognition for.
Over the years, our lives took different paths, but we never drifted. We stayed close. We stayed connected. When we saw each other, it was as if no time had passed. He was the best man at my wedding. I was the best man at his.
That kind of bond doesn’t fade. It deepens.
Norman believed in me in ways I didn’t always believe in myself. He used to call me the Paul McCartney of Christian songwriting, which was never true, but it tells you everything about his heart. He saw people through a lens of encouragement, always lifting, always affirming, always seeing more in you than you might see in yourself. And that’s who he was, not just with me, but with so many.
He had this incredible way of showing up for people, especially those who felt like they didn’t belong anywhere else. The downtrodden. The overlooked. The ones carrying burdens most people didn’t want to touch. Norman didn’t avoid them. He moved toward them. Sometimes unannounced. Sometimes unseen. But always with purpose.
To many, he felt like an angel who appeared at just the right moment.
And now… he’s gone.
I was the one who found him.
I let myself into his home when he didn’t answer the door, and I found him at the bottom of the stairs. It’s a moment that will stay with me for the rest of my life. But even in that, I find a strange kind of peace. I’m grateful it was me.
Grateful that I could be there. Grateful that Eydie didn’t have to experience that moment. Grateful that, in some way, I could stand with him one last time.
This loss is difficult to put into words. There is a space now that cannot be filled by another person. Not by history, not by shared experiences, not by time. But I know this: If there is anything that can fill a space like this… it is Jesus.
Norman knew that. He lived that. And I hold onto that now more than ever.
Norman was many things: a master of electronics, firearms, archery, and more. A man of incredible skill and capability. But that’s not what I will miss most. I will miss my friend. The one who walked with me through life. The one who believed in me. The one who shared faith, music, laughter, and purpose across nearly five decades.
There are not many people in this world you can say that about. And I thank God that I can say it about him.
The Life and Times of David and Norman could fill volumes…
Norman Claassen playing original song I Exalt Your Name 01 28 2007
Video by Jerry and Shirley Rheault


















