Koni Sue Steele, 57, of Iowa City, passed away on January 23, 2026, at University of Iowa Health Care while awaiting approval for an organ transplant.
Koni will be missed by her husband John Deeth, their sons Hayden Cox and Ethan Cox, Ethan’s fiancee, Caraline Ainesworth and granddaughter Hazel Cox, her sisters Keri Steele and Lori Steele, Lori’s husband, Mickey Cook, nephew Owen Cook, and her beloved dog Teddy. She was preceded in death by her parents Bob and Judy Steele and many other relatives in the Steele and Zeigler families.
Koni has been cremated per her wishes. Burial will be alongside her parents at Pratt Cemetery near Novinger, Missouri in the spring.
If you asked her family to describe Koni, you’d hear the same words over and over: warm, charming, thoughtful, smart, fun-loving, wildly creative… and just mischievous enough to keep things interesting. Koni loved fiercely. She made people feel seen, important, and supported. And if someone needed standing up for, Koni was already halfway there, probably with a plan, a speech, and snacks.
She always had a sense of humor when anyone pronounced her name "Coney," which everybody did the first time they saw it.
She was born December 18, 1968, in Kirksville, Missouri, to Bob and Judy Steele, and spent many of her early years in Lost Nation, Iowa. From the very beginning, Koni was busy. She packed her childhood full of Girl Scouts, 4-H, Rainbow Girls, gymnastics, roller skating, swimming laps across the street at the Nicelys’ pool for the American Red Cross, and delivering morning newspapers. She also spent treasured time with extended family in Kirksville and at the family’s wooded property, floating on the frog pond her grandfather created in 1963, swimming at Aunt Wanda’s pool, and pontoon boating with the Stanley cousins.
Koni was intensely creative and perfectly happy entertaining herself for hours, reading and writing stories and poems. She once buried a “treasure box” in the yard, then became convinced the neighbor boys had seen her do it. This led to a recurring routine of digging it up and reburying it… often at night… just to be safe.
Keri and Lori relied on Koni to help with poetry homework — usually the night before it was due. Procrastination may have been a group activity, but talent was all Koni. She won the Lost Nation School Spelling Bee, advanced to win the Eastern Iowa Regional Spelling Bee, and competed in the Des Moines Register State Spelling Bee — proving that all those hours reading paid off.
Koni’s creativity was also proudly displayed in her fashion choices. While delivering newspapers as a young teen, she designed her own uniform/costume: a coat, Mom’s pink bathrobe hanging well below it, pajamas, and slippers. The old men at the corner café teased her dad, asking, “Don’t you buy her any clothes?” Koni considered that a success. She loved giving people something to talk about. Her newspaper career ended in January after she slipped on the ice wearing those slippers, and her dad laid down the law, she had to wear shoes or boots to deliver newspapers. Shoes or boots ruined the look, so Koni was done delivering newspapers.
Koni provided nonstop entertainment for family and friends. At just five years old, during her great-grandparents’ 60th wedding anniversary party, she spontaneously jumped up onto the pool table and launched into a full-volume rendition of “On Top of Spaghetti.” She brought the house down — and earned a standing ovation, proving very early on that Koni never needed an invitation, a stage, or a microphone. She once nearly got herself, her sister, and cousins kicked out of a bowling alley because she kept throwing the ball while the machine was down clearing pins. She wasn’t being reckless — she was too busy entertaining the crowd to pay attention to actual bowling.
Koni could tell incredible whoppers, complete with different voices. She loved to make people laugh. Keri remembers Koni writing, rehearsing, directing, and performing an entire play down in the creek, starring Barbie dolls and neighborhood kids. Koni also thrived on pranks and neighborhood shenanigans. When neighbor boys once showed up at the front door wearing only shaving cream, Koni didn’t hesitate — she yelled, “Grab the hose!”
As a kid, Koni woke up every day and chose fun, and she enlisted the neighborhood kids as co-conspirators. One of their favorite hobbies was tying fake snakes to fishing poles, plopping them in the street, and hiding by the house like tiny goblins. When a car came along, they’d reel the snake across the road like it was late for an appointment. Drivers would either swerve dramatically or try to commit vehicular snake-slaughter. Quality entertainment. Zero regrets.
Then Koni entered her artist era in home ec and produced the most realistic stuffed skunk ever created by human hands. This thing deserved a museum. Naturally, they decided it deserved… the road. They set the skunk down in the road, hid by the house, and waited. A car approached. Koni began reeling the skunk across the street. The driver panicked, ran straight over it, then slammed on the brakes. Physics took over. The skunk launched into the air and landed squarely on top of the trunk like it was claiming the car. The driver floored it. The skunk flew off and hit the road again, dignity shattered. And then the horror hit them. That car belonged to their brand new principal. Like, freshly hired. Still-new-smell principal. They did not wait to see if he noticed them hiding by the house like tiny goblins. They scattered in every direction like startled raccoons, fully convinced their criminal skunk era had just ended their academic careers.
Koni never met a stranger. As a child, she often disappeared for hours, visiting elderly neighbors, listening to their stories, exploring their attics, and admiring their treasures. Upon meeting a new elderly person, she often asked, without hesitation, “Do you have an attic? What’s in it? Can I see it?” They usually said yes. Koni could be pretty convincing.
She formed a special bond with an elderly war veteran named Austin, spending countless hours listening to his life story and admiring his treasures with him. Koni meant so much to him that when he passed away, she was asked to spread his ashes at Eden Valley.
Her sense of right and wrong ran deep. When she discovered gravestones at Rustic Park in Lost Nation had been vandalized, Koni carried the broken pieces home to her dad — some of them very heavy — and made sure he contacted Benny Bentrott, who was able to get them restored. It mattered to Koni that the people buried there were respected.
In junior high and high school, Koni sang in choir, ran cross country, and played drums in the marching, pep, and jazz bands. The family’s Dodge MaxiVan — tricked out by Bob with shag carpet, CB radio, TV, 8-track and cassette players, surround sound, seating for ten, and absolutely no seat belts — became the center of countless adventures.
Koni and Keri loved filling the van with friends. They learned the hard way that 21 people was one too many when they pulled out of the Fareway parking lot in Maquoketa, busted a back shock, and sent sparks flying.
In 1984, the Steele family moved to Oxford, Iowa. At Clear Creek, Koni became manager of the Clipperettes Softball team and made lifelong friends. She also hosted a sand dune party that ended with the MaxiVan stuck in sand up to the undercarriage. Friends either helped pull it out — or Koni charmed a local farmer into doing it. She spent the rest of the night at the car wash vacuuming and washing the van. The next morning, Bob her dad opened the hood, discovered the engine encased in sand, and yelled, “KKKKOOOOONNNNNI!” She was busted.
In high school, Koni worked at Eagle’s Market in Coralville and quickly found her calling in the deli. From that moment on, the family had its first true foodie. Koni cooked for every holiday, could make potato salad for 50 as easily as for five. When John’s mom got overwhelmed at her last Thanksgiving, Koni stepped up on zero notice and saved the day.
She also took industrial arts, where she “made” a wooden jewelry box for Keri — with a lot of help from classmates. That jewelry box, now a treasured heirloom, sits here today holding Koni’s cremains.
Koni graduated from Clear Creek Amana High School in 1987 and attended Kirkwood Community College and the University of Iowa, graduating in 1994.
Koni worked as a call center trainer and teacher in both community college and corporate settings in Missouri from 1997 to 2004. During this time, Koni also served as a United Way Coordinator, helping support United Way efforts in Central Missouri. But Koni's proudest accomplishments in this era were her sons Hayden and Ethan. Both births were challenging but both boys were healthy and have grown into good young men.
Koni returned to the Kirksville house in the woods in 2004 to be a full time mom and help care for Bob and Judy.
In 2006, Koni met John Deeth on MySpace, and she decided she liked him enough that she cyber stalked his phone number. The first time she called, John was hiding in the basement of Gaslight Village during the 2006 tornado. They had their first date, with Hayden and Ethan as chaperones, at the Mark Twain Cave in Hannibal, Missouri.
John quickly fell in love with Koni’s beautiful phone voice, but long distance wouldn’t do. Koni returned to Iowa City and married John on September 14, 2007. It was a small secret wedding at the magistrates office. John’s friend Brian Flaherty was best man, sister Lori was maid of honor, and two month old nephew Owen was the only guest! John rode his bike to the wedding so Brian had to give Koni a ride home. When they got home Koni and John told the boys they were married, and they all went to hang out on the Ped Mall.
Back in Iowa City, Koni renewed many of her old high school and college friendships. Koni, John and the boys lived in the little rented house with the big backyard on Benton Street for ten years. It was the perfect size when the boys were 7 and 5, but way too small when they were 17 and 15. At Christmastime 2017 they bought their home on Little Creek Lane, and the very first thing they did was get the boys their own dog, Teddy, on Christmas Eve. As the boys got older, Teddy decided he was Mama’s dog.
Koni was also responsible for John’s turtle obsession. When Ethan wanted a turtle, she got Ginga (pronounced Jinja), and John doted on her so much that Koni and the boys decided “daddy needs his own turtle.” So one day Koni surprised John in the front yard with a little pet store box. When John asked what was in the box, she said it was a piece of chicken! But it was really Shelley the turtle.
Koni put up with all John’s repetitive jokes and long election seasons. As she became a part of the Deeth family, she learned all about Wisconsin lore, like the Fargo accent (which is real!), Ole and Lena jokes, and the history of the Green Bay Packers.
In Iowa CIty Koni worked in several call center roles. During peak COVID some of those were work at home jobs, which Teddy loved because he could be on Mama’s lap all day. She also shared many adventures with John, Hayden and Ethan. The Deeth-Steele-Cox family vacationed to Orlando in 2012, and John and Koni saw a total eclipse of the sun together on the banks of the Mississippi River in Cape Girardeau, Missouri in April 2024. Koni drove the whole way on both trips because she loved to drive and knew how easily John got distracted!
Koni was also a member of the P.E.O. Sisterhood and a volunteer for the Johnson County Democrats. Sometimes Koni would go along with John on his blogging assignments and take pictures while John wrote. She helped John manage a 750 person caucus at the IMU in 2020, and she ran the location at her old school in Tiffin in 2024.
While Koni was mostly homebound in her final months, she tallied one last proud achievement when, thanks to Ethan and Caraline, she became a grandmother to little Hazel. The big blended Deeth-Steele-Cox-Ainesworth-Cook family celebrated Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years together on Little Creek Lane this year.
Koni never gave up. Her last weeks were spent working hard toward her goal of an organ transplant. While she was unable to receive one in time, she believed in organ donation and was able to donate her eyes to the Iowa Eye Bank.
Koni wrote a poem in memory of her mother, the family has asked me to share:
When You Are With Me
When you are with me, I am home.
But I woke up this morning, without a hand to hold.
Thoughts and memories remind me,
That your love and kindness stays with me.
But when you're not here, where is my home?
These empty feelings, they say will pass, like an empty pond, once rain comes again.
It's just that, when you are here, I am home
When I woke up this morning, I was alone.
There is a beauty left, in the space you made, I can hear your sweetness echo, with the softest sound.
You said, with our breath together, we can make a hurricane of change.
With my hand in yours, there was a certain peace, even in times of pain.
I can still feel you here, even though you are gone. When you are here, I am home.
WITH ALL THE LOVE, TO YOU
Koni Steele, 2023
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