James Wesley Rider Sr.
News & Observer Obituary
News & Observer Obituary
Daughter Mary Rider's Eulogy
I would like to start with a Bible verse that I think is applicable to remembering the life of my father. “So because you are neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth. " (Rev. 3:16)
James Wesley Rider, Sr. was not a lukewarm man. When I was a young teen I remember saying that my father couldn’t just like something. If he liked something, I said, he became a fanatic!
When he was only 17 years old, dad enlisted in the US Marine Corps, “with stars in his eyes” as he told me, “to save the world for democracy.” He spent 20 some years in the Marines and when he retired he had 3 Purple Hearts. Certainly not the career of a lukewarm man.
Eight days before my father died, he and my mother celebrated their 56 th wedding anniversary. I don’t know what they had planned when they started their life together in 1959 but whatever their plans were, I doubt they could have imagined all that was to come.
Beginning with one little red-headed girl, (me), then Becky, a foster child, my parents welcomed 7 children of their own and countless others who came to stay for a little while or became part of the family forever. My parents’ love for each other was contagious – it spread around to all those they met!
On any given holiday you could look around the table and see a few young Marines (or even NAVY guys), some single folks from church or prayer meeting, and anyone else who needed to be there on that day, like, for example, our neighbor family who moved in for a few months when their house was damaged by fire, or a guy from the prayer meeting who was out of work and out of food.
And speaking of prayer meeting, that, I believe, is what drew me as a young teen to label my dad a fanatic! In the 1970s there was a movement that hit the Christian churches and the Catholic Church with it. The Charismatic renewal was sweeping the country and my family was swept up into it. It offered a way of praying totally different from the Latin Mass my father attended for the first 20-some years of his life. We attended prayer meetings where we sang, prayed and shared our joy in the Lord. When we moved to NC from Virginia, unable to find a local prayer meeting, my parents started one in our home.
Every night a bunch of people would show up at our house to spend time together in prayer. My parents did not just tell us about Jesus, they showed us. But let me tell you, this was nothing if not intense!
When we made our first family retreat in Cape May, NJ I was a young teenager. I loved it, as did all the family. When my parents decided, fanatics that they are, to start having family retreats in our home, I may not have been quite as enthusiastic! But they did it and from that grew an empire! How many hundreds, thousands maybe, of people have been touched by those retreats? The original site in Salter Path, owned by the Episcopal Church, has become a large, thriving retreat center. And the CFL Center in Topsail now continues on as Salt and Light. http://www.saltandlightchristiancenter.com/
While the family retreat program may not still be going on here, the seeds my parents planted so long ago have grown and bloomed and continue to flourish. It’s not uncommon for me to meet someone in a totally unrelated context (think Veteran’s Administration social worker, for example) who eventually figures out the connection and says something like, “Oh, did your parents have a family retreat center at Topsail? My family went there. It was so great! We love your mom and dad!”
But because my dad is a fanatic, and my mom traveled that path with him, they didn’t stop there. My parents became the first lay associates of the Society of Mary (the Marianists), years ago, vowing to be in prayer and ministry with Marianists around the world.
My father was also a fanatic about his children. He believed, and often told us, that we could do anything we set our minds to. He was our cheerleader, our mentor and our guide.
There are so many other fanatical things my dad was involved in: supporting racial equality, housing the homeless, reusing and recycling long before it was the societal norm… Whatever my father did, which was a lot, he did it with love and enthusiasm.
My father taught me a lot of things. He taught me how to body surf, how to shoot a gun, how to survive in the wilderness, how to ski, how to change a tire, how to study, how to compost and plant a garden, how to answer the phone “Rider residence, Mary speaking, may I help you?”, or a superior “Sir, yes, sir.” He taught me the difference between needle nose pliers and regular pliers and the difference between right and wrong. He taught me how to treat everyone with respect and dignity and he taught me how to pray. My father gave me much to laugh about and much to cry about. While these past few weeks, I’ve mostly felt like crying, I can’t help but remember my dad’s dry sense of humor and laugh too.
I once heard a friend at his dad’s funeral say, “Dad, we’re down here, shedding tears and you’re in heaven drinking beers!” I do believe that my father is joyfully reuniting with family and friends who have gone before him and is now part of the One Light that unites us all in Love.
Jim Rider, Daddy, Rest in Peace.
Mary Rider is a guiding light at the Father Charles Mulholland Catholic Worker House in Garner, North Carolina.
The Catholic Worker Movement
The Catholic Worker Movement
No comments:
Post a Comment