Ann (Annie) Marie Ranum (Wolf)
Glowingly beautiful on both the inside and out.
Wife, daughter, sister, aunt, great-aunt, mom, grandma, great-grandma, and friend.
Made of the perfect mixture of sugar and spice.
Ann was born on November 12, 1937, in Zeeland, North Dakota. She grew up on a farm in a sod house with her parents, Nick and Caroline (Glatt) Wolf, and her 12 siblings. Her family was hardworking, close-knit, and of German heritage.
She moved to Seattle, Washington, with her first husband, Darrel Frasher, with whom she had two daughters, Tammy and Cindy. She later married Dennis Wikstrom and became a loving stepmother to his two sons, Ward and Jeff. Ann and Dennis moved to Thief River Falls, Minnesota, in 1971. After Dennis passed in 1992, Ann remained in Thief River Falls, working custodial jobs at JCPenney and Arctic Cat.
Ann never met a stranger. Then, in 2002, the most special “non-stranger” entered her life. This stranger swept her independent self off her feet—bringing her fresh-cut flowers from his garden and showing kindness to her and her loved ones. In February 2003, she married Ferrl Ranum, and together they lived a simple yet fairy-tale retirement. Ferrl passed on November 11, 2023.
A little about Ann…
Ann loved talking to everyone and was almost always seen with a smile on her face and laughter in her voice. She enjoyed playing cards, walking, exercising, mowing the lawn, shoveling snow, going to rummage sales, and crocheting. But more than anything, she loved spending time with others—especially her friends and family.
Her house was a home to anyone who walked through the door or even just by to visit on the lawn. Her favorite days were the ones when her home was filled with the sounds of laughter and noisy family gatherings. Everything she cooked warmed the soul, a gift she shared with all her sisters. She also cherished quiet evenings with Ferrl—watching their favorite shows, playing cards, and enjoying nice dinners together.
Her home was her sanctuary, and on Monday, March 17, 2025, she passed peacefully in her chair, mid-morning, doing what she loved—crocheting a doily. The doily remains unfinished, symbolic in so many ways.
We weren’t ready to lose the person who was a rock, a friend, a mom, a grandma, a great-grandma, and so much more to so many, but Ann was ready. She missed her siblings, her friends, and the love of her life. She wanted to be on this earth only if her mind and body were fully capable. Her body was tired, and her mind was at peace, knowing her purpose on Earth was fulfilled.
In her honor—talk to a stranger, smile at someone just because, be kind, don’t judge, love so deeply your heart feels like it might burst, give hugs freely, and pass along the love she shared with you.
To everyone reading this, thank you from her remaining family for bringing her joy. She truly loved people and the connections she made with all of you.
In Ann’s words, ”I lived and I died.”
# Ann Ranum, #