Joseph Mark Friedheim, age 93, of Dallas, Texas, passed away peacefully on October 25, 2025.
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Joe was born on November 7, 1931, to Joseph and Albina Friedheim in Belle Glade, Florida, where he was raised as the third of seven children. Known to be quite mischievous as a child and even into his college years, Joe eventually earned a Master’s Degree in Economics from the University of Florida.
After college, Joe served proudly as a 1st Lieutenant in the U.S. Air Force, where he piloted a B-47 bomber that carried an atomic bomb during the height of the Cold War. His time in the service instilled in him the discipline, courage, and sense of responsibility that would define the rest of his life.
While stationed in Tucson, Arizona, Joe met his future wife, Joyce. They married and made Tucson their home, raising three daughters together.
Joe was a serial entrepreneur with an unmatched work ethic and creative spirit. He built a successful career in commercial real estate in Arizona, and in his heyday, his firm was recognized as one of the top 100 multi-family builders in the country. But Joe didn’t just build apartments—he built the furniture to go inside them. He even started his own lumber company
and manufactured his own mattresses. If something needed doing, Joe figured out how to do it himself.
Beyond business, Joe’s heart was as big as his ambition. He gave jobs to anyone in his family who needed one—brothers, children, nieces, nephews, parents—you name it. His generosity extended far beyond his family, as he was always ready to lend a hand to friends and even complete strangers.
In a cover story for the Arizona Daily Star, a reporter once described Joe as “friendly, folksy, candid and blunt”—a perfect description of the man who touched so many lives.
Outside of work, he was an avid tennis player who loved to travel and dance, always bringing energy and humor to every pursuit.
Joseph is survived by his wife, Joyce; his daughters, Angela Wofford, Annette Friedheim, and Andrea Hundley (Lars); his grandchildren, Taylor, Riley, and Ethan; and his siblings, Jeanette Friedheim and Louis Friedheim. He was preceded in death by his parents and his sisters, Louise Burns, Helen King, Catherine Moore, and Esther Masters.
No public service will be held. Those who wish to celebrate his life are asked to donate in his name to The Alzheimer’s Association.
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From Riley Wofford:
The thing I remember most vividly about Grandpa was how much he loved to dance. Even when his memory was fading, each time I would visit, he’d twirl me around. It was always a good reminder to make sure you take time to do things you love, even if it’s just a quick little dance before dinner.
from Annette:
I must say my dad was a really great dad! He was funny and full of life and always had the best sayings. One of my favorites was “anything above a C is wasted effort”. That was however far from true!!!
He expected the most from us. He also used to say “if I want your opinion I’ll give it to you”. All in jest of course. He thought Belle Glade Florida was the best place on earth if you can believe that.
Even as his Alzheimers progressed he could still talk about Belle Glade and find it on a map. He could also talk about the plane he used to fly when he was in the Air Force. When he got to the point where he couldn’t really communicate anymore he would still appear to be working in his sleep answering his phone and making decisions. What a hoot. All that to say he was a very special man, hard working, honest and generous and I was proud to have him as my dad. More later
From Angela:
My dad was a man of quiet generosity, humor, and wisdom. He gave freely to family and strangers alike, often in ways that surprised us years later.
One of my earliest memories of his kindness came during an elementary school field trip to the School for the Blind in Tucson. A woman at the entrance typed our names in Braille, and when the director read mine aloud, she asked if I was related to Joseph Friedheim. When I told her he was my dad, she smiled and said he had provided the very building where the school operated.
I have so many great memories of him. I’ll never forget the sight of him sprinting down our alley in a full tuxedo, chasing an escaped pet bunny before a fancy fundraiser. Or the time we found ourselves in Las Vegas when The Osmonds were playing at the Hilton. The show was sold out—but Donny was my high school crush. Somehow, Dad made it happen. I sat front and center that night, and I never asked how he managed it.
Above all, he loved his family fiercely. Both immediate and extended, we were his pride and his purpose. He used to joke that it was a good thing people had different tastes, or everyone would be chasing his wife. When I found myself in the middle of a divorce, he was my safety net. Without him, that net feels gone—though truthfully, it’s been gone for quite some time.
This has been a very long goodbye. Even knowing it was coming doesn’t soften the finality of realizing I won’t see him again. But what remains is the imprint of a life well lived—a man who was generous, funny, and wise, who made the world better for everyone lucky enough to know him.
I will miss you, Dad.
From Andrea:
My Dad was always someone who helped other people and took care of everyone around him. He helped me more than I can say.
When I told him I wanted to open a B&B he jumped in with both feet to support me. He was there sweeping the floors and managing the construction, which of course I couldn’t have even begun without him and my mom. She of course did all the decorating.
He always convinced us we could do whatever we wanted. He was a huge advocate for women and always joked about all the great women he had working for him.
He loved a good argument, but he didn’t hold onto things. We could be screaming at each other one minute and laughing the next.
I am sad that he is gone, but I am glad that he no longer has to live without his memories. We have already been missing him for a very long time.
From Teresa Moore Torbert
Uncle Joe — In Loving Memory
Uncle Joe was driven, hardworking, and relentless in going after what he wanted. He was also smart enough to know it took a team to get things done. At work, he used to say, “I don’t have to be the smartest person in the room, I just have to get them to work with — or for — me.”
He was laser-focused on achieving his goals, and while he could be tough on anyone he thought wasn’t keeping pace, he was also incredibly generous — with company trips, profit sharing, wonderful Christmas parties, and summer picnics that everyone looked forward to.
Uncle Joe was the least shy person I’ve ever met, and being at the center of the party was exactly where he wanted to be. One of my favorite memories was a company picnic featuring the “Friedheim Follies,” where different departments put on skits. Without a hint of self-consciousness, Joe stole the show in our takeoff of the song “Honey Bun” from South Pacific. Together with five women from the office — all of us dressed as construction workers in hard hats, tool belts, and work boots — Joe made his grand entrance barefoot, wearing a blond rag wig, a coconut bra, and a grass skirt. Always the dancer, he did the hula with flair while we belted out the song. At the finale, Joe threw his arms high, perched on the knees of two half-kneeling “backup singers.” The whole park roared with laughter at the shameless joy he took in hamming it up — he was the star, and he knew it.
I think Aunt Joyce was half-mortified and half-amused by his total lack of self-consciousness. I went to work for Uncle Joe right after college. With all the naivete of a new grad, I didn’t realize what a great opportunity I’d been handed, or how much Uncle Joe and Aunt Joyce helped me make that huge leap to a completely different part of the country — something I only came to appreciate years later.
Joe wasn’t just generous with his employees — he was generous with his family too. When he was first starting out, he came to my mom and dad for an investment. Mom used to tell the story: they gave him all the savings they had at the time. She later said that if they could have seen into the future, she’d have gone straight to the bank to borrow more!
The returns on that investment helped pay for six college educations. That kind of legacy — helping lift up the next generation — is the truest measure of a life well lived.
Uncle Joe was mercurial, fun-loving, tough, and generous to all. We’ll hold you in our hearts always, Uncle Joe. I know you and the rest of the Friedheim clan are interceding for those of us still here. What a blessing.
All our love,
Teresa and the Moore kids
From Taylor Wofford:
My grandpa was a good man. Here are a few things I remember about him:
He taught me it was okay to want to dress well. Grandpa always wore a suit, as many have said, but he had a love of clothing in general. Before it was okay for men to care about how they dressed, grandpa always cared. He even carried a little clutch before “manbags” were a thing. He was confident in himself and didn’t care what others thought.
He taught me how to assert myself. I was the only boy in the immediate family until my cousin Ethan was born, at which point I was in college. I think grandpa treated me a little differently because of that. I think he was a bit tougher on me. It wasn’t until I finally stood up to him (using some colorful language) that I felt I had earned his respect. But that taught me that, sometimes, respect has to be earned, and that’s served me well.
He taught me to find something you care about and dedicate your life to it. Grandpa was a singularly driven person. He cared so much about his career, and he pursed it relentlessly. He wanted to keep doing it even after he wasn’t physically or mentally able to. I think that’s admirable. I hope to find something I care about that much one day.
From Lars Hundley
All of my favorite memories of Joe revolve around building and real estate, which were two of his favorite things and also his true expertise.
Once, before Andrea and I were even married, Joe was building the yellow house next door to Andrea’s B&B (that Joe also built, by the way).
They had already dug out the garage, but hadn’t poured any concrete yet. It was going to rain hard that weekend, and the rain was running right down the side of the B&B and washing out the soil underneath its foundation. It could have been serious.
Andrea and Joe and I had to unfold this enormous blue tarp – bigger than any tarp I had ever seen – and somehow attach it to the B&B so that the water would run away from the foundation.
It was stressful and muddy. Joe started to raise his voice, ordering us around and telling us what to do when Andrea suddenly yelled out, “THERE’S NO YELLING!!!” Joe instantly composed himself, we completed the work, the foundation didn’t wash away, and I learned something about how the Friedheim family operates that day.
Another time, Joe was the contractor for building a garage apartment connected to the back of our house on Penrose. The inspector came and said that a window wasn’t allowed in a certain spot where the architect had put it, which may or may not have been correct information.
Rather than wait for the architect to deal with the city, he just sealed up the space right there that same day so he could keep moving forward and told us that our idiot architect didn’t know what the hell he was doing. We passed inspection, built it all on time and within our budget, and the apartment looks good without that stupid window anyway.
Finally, in the early 2000s, Andrea and I decided that our business should buy a warehouse to operate from. We had no idea how to go about doing that, but Joe did, and he helped us pick a terrific neighborhood and find the perfect building that we could afford to finance. That neighborhood took off a few years later and the building worked out great. We never would have picked such a great spot without Joe.
From Norma Allen
A beautiful name for a beautiful man. I loved and respected him, naming our firstborn son, Moses Benjamin JOSEPH Allen, in his honor. Even Joe’s signature was beautiful.
Tom and I got engaged at BYU and Lucille picked us up at the end of the spring semester for a two-week road trip through Tom’s mission field to Indiana to meet Sue and her family. After several days with the Bartholomew’s, we drove to Tucson where I was able to meet Ricky, Joyce, Joe, Angela, Annette and Andrea. Joe was wonderful from the beginning and welcomed me with open arms to the family.
Joe was generous! When Tom and I moved to Tucson after graduation from BYU, he gave me a much-needed job. I worked for him for several years and he taught me so many things. I had lived a sheltered existence, with very little worldly experience but he helped me learn how to navigate the business world somewhat. I would often be frustrated and even angry with him but he made a difference in my life. He once told me I was too nice and that “It’s the squeaky wheel that gets the grease” It’s true! I’m still too nice, but developed a bit of toughness as well. I can squeak when I need to. My work experience with him better prepared me for the rest of my life and career.
Joe and Joyce were always active and included us in whatever was going on in their lives. We celebrated holidays and weddings and family events together. We enjoyed many Friday happy hours with the office. I had many work lunches with him and other employees, with him always picking up the tab. Delicious Mexican food at small out-of-the-way places. I had my first “grinder” with him and Angela, who laughed so hard and couldn’t believe I didn’t know what one was. I love them to this day! Joe loved seafood and insisted I try his oysters and clams on the half shell. I loved them, of course. He introduced me to a lot of expensive, gourmet things, but I would NOT try sweetbreads, which he ordered once. He loved sweetbreads and I think of him whenever I see it on a menu. Yuck. Joe treated us to many lovely and expensive restaurant meals. He really enjoyed food but was always quick to say that Joyce could cook anything just as well as the best restaurant.
Joe was a very successful businessman, having proved himself over and over again.
We all benefitted from his success. He gave me my first car and gave us shares in a medical complex he owned. He advised and supported us in all our endeavors. I am at a loss to even list everything he and Joyce have done for me and for our family.
We haven’t been able to see Joe very much the last few years, but it has been such a comfort to know that he was still in my life and was there if I needed anything. Now he is not there and that comfort is gone. I feel the loss deeply but am warmed by the many, many, MANY remembrances I have of our time together. And I cannot be selfish. Joe is released from his mortal life, his diminished existence and on to the next adventure. He has graduated! I was blessed to have him in my life and know I will see him again.
I send heartfelt condolences to Joyce and her girls and their families. I send love and support for anything you may need that I can do or give. I love you all.
-Norma Allen
from Chris and Vinnie Jensen
We remember a fun evening in Canada at our little first house. We had a fun fondue party with Joyce’s brother Tom and his wife Norma who was my sister. We had other family members there and I remember much laughter and good food. It’s a fond memory of ours and wish we’d been able to spend more time with them. We’d like to send our condolences he lived a long useful life. A character I’m sure. We feel priveleged to have know Joe and Joyce and their family.
From Pat Beaudry
I didn’t know Joe very well, only met him a handful of times when I was visiting Annette. He was funny, a quick thinker, and very dapper. The first time I met him was at the airport Our flight landed really late at night, well after midnight. Joe picked us up wearing a full suit. He was a sharp dresser. I even saw him trim the bushes in a suit.
The other thing I remember about Joe was he did not like the squirrels in his yard. They were messing with the gardens or trying to get into his house
Or something He had a little BB gun he would shoot at them. The only reason I know this is because there was a tiny hole in the back door window where Joe shot at the critter without opening the door first. I’m pretty sure he was probably wearing a suit then too.
Rest in Peace Joe. . I hope they have a suit for you in heaven. ❤️
From Theresa Friedheim
The clearest memory I have of Uncle Joe was of his laugh and smirk that went along with a witty comment. I admired him for his beautiful family and accomplishments.