Judith Lynne Russell

Judith Lynne Russell (née Wagner), passed away unexpectedly on Monday, June 29, 2026. She left behind a family, countless friends, and an entire nursing community who will forever feel the loss of her remarkable presence.

Judy burst forth in all her glory on September 6, 1961, in Toledo to Robert and Josephine (née Casey) Wagner. She attended St. Pius X Elementary School and graduated from DeVilbiss High School (1979). Driven by a passion for caring for others, Judy earned both her LPN license at Northwest Ohio Practical Nurse Training and her RN license at the Mercy Hospital School of Nursing. Never one to stop learning, she later completed her bachelor's degree at the University of Detroit Mercy.

For more than 48 years, nursing was not simply Judy's profession - it was her calling. She began her career at St. Vincent Medical Center and concluded it at ProMedica Toledo Hospital, retiring in September 2025 after decades as an exceptional cardiac critical care nurse. She held herself and everyone around her to the highest standards because she believed every patient deserved nothing less than extraordinary care. Whether speaking to a fellow nurse or a physician, Judy never hesitated to advocate for her patients. She was fearless, unwavering, and deeply committed to doing what was right. For that reason, with a fellow nurse, she started a newsletter at St. Vincent Hospital that highlighted problems and demanded change. That endeavor caught the attention of the TV series Street Stories. Judy was to be featured in an episode on the life of a nurse, but the episode was pulled at the last minute because the hospital objected.

Judy also devoted much of her career to mentoring the next generation of nurses. As a trusted preceptor, she taught far more than clinical skills-she instilled compassion, integrity, confidence, and the unwavering belief that the patient must always come first. The countless nurses she guided will carry her lessons with them throughout their careers.

There was never any mistaking Judy's voice. It was strong, unmistakable, and filled with conviction. More than one doctor jokingly claimed her voice could "wake the dead," but those who knew her understood that it came from a place of fierce dedication and an even bigger heart. Beneath her bold exterior was a woman whose compassion knew no bounds.

Judy was deeply respected by her colleagues, cherished by her patients, and loved by the many lives she touched throughout her career. Her strength, her laughter, her honesty, and her unwavering devotion to others have left an unforgettable mark on everyone fortunate enough to know her. Her legacy will continue to live on in the patients she cared for, the nurses she mentored, and the countless lives she made better simply by being herself.

Despite how important her identity as a nurse was - after all, she did tell people, "I save lives" when they asked about her profession - it paled in comparison to her identities as a daughter, sister, wife, mother, aunt, grandmother, and friend. That same care that saved lives infiltrated all of her relationships.

Judy began her own family when she married the love of her life, Douglas Russell, at Rosary Cathedral on September 4, 1981. Together they welcomed 2 beautiful children, Erica and Peter. Growing up as one of 13 children, Judy developed a broad definition of family-one that reached far beyond bloodlines and marriage to include anyone she deemed worthy of her crew.

Like a good Irish lass, she loved the Pope, Ireland, Jameson, being a member of the Ladies Ancient Order of Hibernians and working at their St. Patrick's Day shindig, her Catholic parish - Historic St. Patrick's, as well as serving in Deacon Tom's Food Pantry there. Highlights of her life included celebrating Mass with and meeting Pope Francis in Philadelphia in 2015. The Eucharist and music were her lifeblood. Everything related to a song. She loved musicals (except Cats) and was able to recently enjoy seeing A Beautiful Noise - The Neil Diamond Musical with her nephew, Charles, and Gypsy with her sister, Amy, and sister-in-law, Jenny. She also had the gift of gab - she could talk to anybody.

The daughter of a Marine, Judy was extremely patriotic. She regularly burst out singing the Marine Corp Hymn. She made Army soldiers chant cadence to her. Exemplified by her endeavors as a nurse, as a good American, rebellion flowed through her blood. Judy loved traveling around the US. A favorite spot for Judy was close to home - Hocking Hills.

Perhaps because of her ease at commanding attention in the hospital, Judy was exceedingly assertive and skilled at calling others to action. She had strong opinions to which everyone was entitled. Despite the strength of her convictions, she let everyone else be themselves - except when people left "their stuff" at her house. She made that preference known widely and it was as if people enjoyed getting a phone call, "come get your stuff!" Judy was never able to prevail upon Erica to move her stuff into her own house though.

In contrast to the strength of her beliefs and her serious demeanor as a nurse, Judy could also be a goofball, and she was unapologetically herself. On a flight to Ireland in 1997, with Beth, her sister, Judy had full access to the drink cart and when she disembarked the plane, she was two sheets to the wind. On her first Irish car ride (on the "wrong" side of the road) Beth had to move her to the back seat because she freaked out thinking the bushes along the roadside were coming to get her. Another time, at a family party at Jerry and Marian's house, her brother- and sister-in-law, she found a trick deck of cards that were all identical. She ran around screaming, "It's a SIGN! It's a SIGN!" Judy would joke about the most everyday sorts of things - most recently, she'd ask people if they saw her new air conditioner and then wryly pointed to her new fan with a smirk and twinkle in her eye before bursting out laughing. Her joy was contagious.

One of Judy's most enduring qualities, one that shaped her world and the worlds of those who loved her, was her singular skill at being welcoming. Perhaps it was that smile that made the sun warmer on a cool day, but even before the first moment of interacting with her, Judy created an atmosphere of generosity, approachability, and open acceptance that made others feel included, respected, and lastingly connected to her. Her home was a gathering place not only for her annual Tea Party, Halloween Party, and family Christmas Party but on Fridays for "kikis," or any random Tuesday for a Michelob Ultra - her door was always open. That feature of her presence, combined with that voice that could "wake the dead," was likely to the dismay of her neighbors on account of the random, full-throated (usually off-key) concerts that would billow out of her windows or across the back lawn. Her kitchen table almost seemed to have a kind of magic the way it drew people in. When seats would fill up, chairs would appear in a second and third row until there wasn't room to stand. But it wasn't the table. It was Judy. Multiple people said that Judy was like a second mother. In the words of one friend, "she always felt like home."

That welcoming essence was apparent in public, too. During the height of the pandemic, her warmth encouraged a stranger to approach her at Food Town on Ash Wednesday and asked her to share her ashes. Judy obliged without hesitation.

Even children felt special in Judy's presence because she was present to them, listening intently with joy at what they had to say. When her children were young, she hosted a haunted house. Ever the free spirit, she gave latitude to the kids who designed and ran that haunted basement, buying a smoke machine and cow organs from a local butcher to make the experience real. Her departure will be acutely felt by her grandchildren, who lovingly referred to her as JuJu. Judy relished babysitting because of the opportunities it provided her to love on her grandbabies. She loved them so much that, even at 64 years young, she had plans to sleep in a tent with them over the annual Fourth of July party at her sister Amy's lake house. She was something else.

The world is quieter now, and our hearts are overwhelmed with the immense grief of losing Judy, who was preceded in death by her grandson, Declan Russell; husband, Doug Russell; Father and Mother, Robert and Josephine Wagner, Brothers, Stephen, David, Rick and John Wagner; Sisters, Linda DiCenzo and Maggie Wagner; Mother-in-law, Anna Rae Russell; and Brother in-law, Jerry Russell. Judy is survived by her Daughter and Son-in-law Erica and Bob Lloyd; Son and Daughter-in-law Peter and Dana Russell; her precious grandbabies, Delaney, Bowie, Freddie and Delilah; Sisters, Mary Ellen (Ron) Warns, Nancy (Doug Mansor), Beth Wagner and Amy (Chad) Rupp; Brothers, Ron (Anita) and Kevin (Vicky) Wagner; Sisters-in-law Jennifer Wagner, Marilyn Wagner, Lisa (Russell) Gilbert and Marian Russell; Brothers-in-law, Paul DiCenzo and Kevin (Pam) Russell; many nieces, nephews, great nieces, great nephews, friends, and colleagues.

Funeral arrangements are under the care of Walker Funeral Home, 5155 W Sylvania Avenue, Toledo, OH. The family will receive friends at the funeral home from 2 pm - 8 pm on Tuesday, July 7. A Nursing Honor Guard will be presented at 7:15 pm, followed by a prayer service provided by the Ladies Ancient Order of Hibernians.

A Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated on Wednesday, July 8 at 11 am at The Historic Church of St. Patrick, 130 Avondale Road, Toledo, OH 43604. Burial will follow immediately at Calvary Cemetery.

In lieu of, flowers, please consider making a donation in Judy's name to Deacon Tom's Food Pantry at The Historic Church of St. Patrick, Toledo.

Eternal rest grant unto Judith, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her. May her soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.