
(FHS) Nancy Helen Price
1955-01-13 2009-11-26
At Nancy and Ray's home, no guest could go long without a laugh, a drink, or too much to eat. When preparing for a party of 10 people, Nancy cooked enough food for 25 and had enough funny stories for 100.
Nancy Price, 54, passed away at their Newport News home on Nov. 26, after suffering from cancer.
She is survived by her husband of 33 years, Raymond Price; son, Chris Price and his wife and son, Karyn and Dylan; daughter, Nikki Connelly and her husband, Steve; stepdaughter, Michelle Hand and her daughters, Lauren and Leah; mother, Kikue (Peggy) Ponton; brothers, John and Mike Ponton; many loving nieces, nephews, brothers- and sisters-in-law; and dogs, Toby and Daisy.
She was preceded in death by her father, William Ponton; and dogs, Patches and Muffin.
Nancy was born and lived most of her life in Newport News. She graduated from Ferguson High School (1973) and Jan-Mar Beauty Academy (former instructor), was a Republican and entrepreneur (formerly owned AAA Luxury Limousines), and loved the opera. Nancy could make anyone laugh, blush, or typically do both, and it didn't matter if she knew you 30 seconds or 30 years as she knew no strangers.
Nancy Price, 54, passed away at their Newport News home on Nov. 26, after suffering from cancer.
She is survived by her husband of 33 years, Raymond Price; son, Chris Price and his wife and son, Karyn and Dylan; daughter, Nikki Connelly and her husband, Steve; stepdaughter, Michelle Hand and her daughters, Lauren and Leah; mother, Kikue (Peggy) Ponton; brothers, John and Mike Ponton; many loving nieces, nephews, brothers- and sisters-in-law; and dogs, Toby and Daisy.
She was preceded in death by her father, William Ponton; and dogs, Patches and Muffin.
Nancy was born and lived most of her life in Newport News. She graduated from Ferguson High School (1973) and Jan-Mar Beauty Academy (former instructor), was a Republican and entrepreneur (formerly owned AAA Luxury Limousines), and loved the opera. Nancy could make anyone laugh, blush, or typically do both, and it didn't matter if she knew you 30 seconds or 30 years as she knew no strangers.