Joe Hegenbarth always leaves his door open. Not just to let in the light from the narrow hallway at Dove Healthcare in Rice Lake, Wisconsin, but to extend an unspoken invitation – one he’s been offering for over 90 years.
His room sits in the south corner of the rehabilitation and nursing care facility. Upon entrance, a vibrant collage of photos with smiling faces greets visitors.
Inside his modest room, surrounded by crocheted slippers, old wrestling photos, and puzzles pieced together with care, Hegenbarth continues doing what he’s done his entire life: creating connections, one person at a time.

On afternoons when he is not out, you will find Hegenbarth in his toffee-colored armchair. Strands of green yarn run down from his crochet hook, tangling with the tubes of his oxygen tank. He has crocheted slippers for many residents and staff at Dove, using his hobby to create connections within the facility.
Hegenbarth’s open-door policy functions as a way to let his shining light out into the world.
Although this open-door approach has defined his time at Dove, it began long before he became a resident at the facility. He spent 35 years as an educator and coach, influencing and nurturing the lives of his students, athletes and peers. He knit them together then in the same way he knits people together now — carefully, methodically, lovingly.
Joe Hegenbarth’s legacy isn’t measured by championships won or lessons taught — it’s characterized by the lives he touched long after the final bell rang. As a math teacher and wrestling coach in Cumberland, Wisconsin, he built more than problem-solvers and athletes; he nurtured generations of students with an unwavering belief in connection, kindness, and perseverance.
Now, at 92, from a small room in the facility, his open door continues to invite in the same warmth and community he fostered in classrooms and wrestling mats for decades. His story is one of enduring influence — a reminder that the lessons we leave behind often outlast the titles we hold.
From 1959 to 1994, Hegenbarth taught seventh and eighth-grade math at Cumberland School in Barron County, Wisconsin. He founded Cumberland’s wrestling program in his first year as a teacher, becoming the head coach in 1972. His legacy of leadership, encouragement and positivity continues, even through his retirement.
Thirty years have passed since Hegenbarth was a full-time teacher and coach. Still, his role in the community has stayed the same.
“At night, when I go to sleep,” he said, “I always ask myself, ‘Who did I make happier today than they were before?’ That’s my goal. I’ve read a lesson plan every day, just like when I was teaching.”

Nadine Williams, longtime recreation director at Dove, sees his influence on residents and staff as more than positive — retirement hasn’t diminished his impact on the community. Although most residents at the facility are female, he actively seeks out relationships with them, calling them his “sisters.”
“You can tell he has been an educator because he still educates,” Williams said, “He still explains things to people. He still is that person who made him a good teacher, he’s still carrying that with him. That’s just a part of his persona.”
Just two years ago, Hegenbarth was recovering from a heart attack. When he first arrived at the facility, he was on hospice. Even then, he made a point to involve himself in the activities at Dove.
“I don’t think he expected to still be alive at this time,” Williams said. “But it didn’t matter because regardless of what was going to happen to him, he still had a very positive attitude.”
Despite Hegenbarth’s physical limitations, he is what Williams describes as a “math whiz.”
“If you ask him if it was raining on Christmas Eve in 1959, he’ll know,” she said.
Hegenbarth’s affinity for math began when he was 6-years-old. He attended a tiny country school in northwestern Wisconsin; there were only two other students in his grade. He recalls listening to the older students’ math lessons, learning as they learned.
“I knew about finding the volume of a cone and the area of squares in the first grade,” he said. “That was good training for a teacher.”
At 16, Hegenbarth split his time between school and working as a carpenter. The scant wages left a lasting impression on him — he had to work two full hours just to afford his lunch. He realized carpentry wasn’t for him.
Growing up on a farm made the farming career path equally unappealing. Numerous hours hand-milking cows proved tedious for him; he wanted to do something that would bring him joy.
After high school, Hegenbarth could not afford to attend college. Instead, he served in the Korean War, where he considered making a career out of the service. But his childhood of creating things had instilled a deep love of imagination and independence.
He remembers crafting homemade sleds using barrel loops, building stilts to walk on and swinging from ropes across the length of the barn. In the end, he decided he wanted more freedom in his everyday life.
“I didn’t always like being told what to do,” he said, “I wanted to be creative.”
After leaving the military, Hegenbarth attended Barron County Normal School, a school for training prospective teachers. In 1961, he earned his bachelor’s degree from UW-River Falls.
When he began teaching, he never looked back.
“I never had a day that I didn’t want to be there,” he said. “I taught school almost every day from 1956 until 2006.”
Even after retiring in 1994, Hegenbarth continued his career as a substitute teacher in Barron County. His passion for teaching made him determined to help struggling students understand mathematical principles. This conviction began on Christmas day, 1938.
That year, his family faced a difficult decision when his younger sister was born with a cleft lip. His father made the choice to sell half their dairy herd to fund her surgery, leaving no money for Christmas presents. In what could have been a memory of hardship, their neighbors’ response transformed it into an unforgettable lesson in kindness.
“They brought us all the used stuff they had,” Hegenbarth said. “We had the best Christmas in our life. We never had a Christmas before that or after that like that one.”
It was a formative experience, determining his teaching philosophy and strengthening his desire to help others.
“That’s why I felt the kid that had a hard time in my classroom is the one I would look out for,” he said. “I didn’t have to worry about the intelligent ones. Because if they got it, then I know everybody got it.”
Hegenbarth didn’t let his students use calculators. Instead, he emphasized working out problems mentally, showing them how to play games to find answers.
“This calculator always works,” he said, pointing to his head. “You might not have a calculator otherwise. I never let my students use it for tests.”
While Hegenbarth’s attentive instruction and dedication helped struggling students in his classroom, these same qualities would shape his unexpected journey into coaching.
Despite never having wrestled himself, his methodical mind, with its appreciation for precision, found a home on the wrestling mat.
Chad Olson, who wrestled under Hegenbarth in the 1980s, attributes his former coach’s success to the same methodical approach that made him an effective teacher: Thorough preparation and a gift for building relationships.
“When Joe started the program in 1959,” Olson said, “He had never wrestled a day in his life. When Cumberland School hired him, he took it upon himself to learn the sport of wrestling. So, he went to the George Martin Hall of Fame Camps, he read books, and he always had people that respected him and wanted to keep his tradition a successful tradition.”
Olson calls Hegenbarth Cumberland wrestling’s Vince Lombardi, noting how both carried themselves with similar professionalism.
“He was old school; he wore a suit and tie every day,” Olson said.
Behind the professional demeanor, Hegenbarth had a passionate coaching style. The wrestling room would echo with his booming voice. He describes himself “getting loud” and “slamming doors” to motivate wrestlers.
Yet these intense moments were always rooted in his deep investment in his wrestlers’ success. He fostered a familial atmosphere within Cumberland wrestling. The program’s doors remained open to alumni, who often returned to work with current wrestlers.
The ongoing connection between past and present generations created a living legacy. The wrestling room became more than just a practice facility — it transformed into a gathering place where multiple generations of Cumberland wrestlers could unite.
Hegenbarth’s influence continues to echo through Cumberland’s hallways, particularly through Reid Olson, Chad Olson’s son and the school’s current head wrestling coach.
In February 2024, the Cumberland School District approved a $32 million bond referendum to improve the classrooms, cafeteria and wrestling room. The younger Olson wanted to make sure, even through the changes, that Hegenbarth’s legacy stays cemented in the wrestling room.
“Our current one already says the Hegenbarth Wrestling Center,” Olson said, “It says it in the hallway right up front. You can see it, but I’d like it to be a little bit more prominent. I was pretty adamant that every person that walked by was going to know dang well that that was the Hegenbarth Wrestling Center.”

Hegenbarth’s influence extended far beyond his retirement. He remained connected to Cumberland wrestling, attending tournaments and supporting athletes decades after founding the program.
His devotion to his wrestling legacy was particularly evident at the state tournament, where he made arrangements with the Wisconsin Interscholastic Athletic Association to personally present medals to the younger Olson during his three appearances on the podium.
These ceremonies became especially meaningful during Olson’s final two years of competition, when he finished as state runner-up both times.
“He grabbed me by the front of the shirt,” Olson said, “Before he put my medal on, he pulled me down and said, ‘Don’t worry, you’re going to win the state title next year.’ And then the next year, of course, I didn’t — I took second place again, and he grabbed me by the front of the shirt the next year and said, ‘Well, don’t worry, you’re the real state champion to me.'”
Today, in his room at Dove, Hegenbarth continues teaching life’s lessons. He still remembers creating a pretend store in the corner of his classroom where math came alive. Leaning back in his chair, he reminisces about working with a particular student who had a difficult time in class.
“I made the mistake of saying,” he said, “‘If I bought an ice cream cone from you, that costs a nickel and I gave you a dime, how much change would you give me back?’ I bet I worked fifteen minutes with her. Finally, she said to me, ‘Mr. Hegenbarth, to you, I’d give the whole dime — anybody else, I’d keep five cents.’”
That simple exchange in the makeshift classroom store created a lasting bond. Decades later, that student’s family asked Hegenbarth to speak at her funeral.
“I gave a little remembrance,” he said. “I said, ‘God created every one of us. The only way we can keep that star shining is if we keep remembering that person.’”
In his quiet moments at Dove, Hegenbarth continues to create a space of warmth and love, believing in the potential of every person who crosses his path. His enduring message is one of legacy through service — the light we kindle in others continues burning long after we’re gone — immortality through the lives we’ve touched.
Even now, his door remains open, just as his heart has been to generations of students and athletes. The invitation never wavers – whether in a classroom, on a wrestling mat or at the end of a dimly lit hallway.
“I say to myself, ‘Make this a happy place,’” he said. “Make this a place where people are worthy and important and have a light that will keep shining forever.”
Editor’s note: This story was first written for class – CJ 427: Advanced Reporting and Editing, taught by Professor Pechulano Ngwe Ali in the fall of 2024.