Years later I was the pastor at El Mesias, and the funerals continued. Folks never seem to ask permission before they die, they just die. And it was during that time I met the man who replaced Mr. Ford, a young man named Ric Brown. Ric was different from what I had perceived to be the mold of funeral directors; serious, caring, but non-expressive. Ric was anything but, except for the caring part; Ric loved people and that showed. Ric also loved life and that showed. Ric loved Jesus Christ and that showed. Ric loved to laugh and that showed all too clearly. He took his job seriously, showing his care and concern for people and he had a policy of burying children I believe under the age of two, for free. His personal life had been traumatized by a loss of a child during his first marriage and he made it his policy to show love and care in providing the best he could for families who lost little ones. Ric helped me overcome my fear of death and the dead. While in high school I had made friends with the son of a prominent funeral director and he loved to share stories that fueled my fear. Thanks, bro! Ric took me behind the scenes and explained his calling and the laws of Texas when it came to the dead. He followed those faithfully.
We were blessed with a gift that helped our funeral ministry, a piano that used floopy disks to program music and so, if we knew we had a funeral coming, our pianist would record the hymns requested for the funeral and all I had to do was to find someone to insert the disk, press play at the appropriate time and we were in business! Ric loved to be that person. Our piano was on the choir loft behind the congregation so folks had to turn to see the choir or someone singing, and so Ric loved acting like he was the one playing this wonderful sacred music and he made the expressions and hand gestures as if he were a concert pianist. He was doing that just to make me laugh, which he knew I needed, but sometimes folks would turn around and were shocked to see the funeral director playing the piano for a funeral. And afterwards, he would still play along. "That was some great music, Ric!" And he would smile and thank them. I would laugh and shake my head.
In September of 1989, tragedy struck our small town. A school bus collided with a Coca-Cola truck and sent the bus into a water-filled caliche pit. I believe 21 children drowned as a result of that accident. I responded to the call because my secretary's husband was a fire fighter and she knew the location. I was known by several city leaders and so as I arrived I was asked to be on the shore where the parents of the children on the scene were awaiting news of their children's safety or death. I witnessed the pain and agony of parents grieving the loss of little ones. All I could do was hug and cry with many of the moms there at that pit. The sheriff then asked if I would help Ric set up a temporary morgue in the county pavilion near Mission. Ric came and drove us over there and he and I set up folding tables to be beds for the bodies as they arrived on stretchers. I had no time to be frightened I was just in shock, doing what was expected of me. The bodies would be placed on the floor and Ric and I would lift them onto the table. Ric asked that we clean the faces of dirt, sand, and other debris from the accident. One little girl still had her hairbrush in her hair. I had to straighten up the heads to align with the bodies and I had to remove that hairbrush. Then I had to await the arrival of parents to identify the bodies. Ric and I would never be the same when it came to our friendship; we were now more than friends, brothers and co-sufferers of life's worst experiences.
When I moved away from the Valley I missed Ric and his style of funerals. And somehow I kept in touch with him or news of Ric would reach me. When one of Nellie's first cousins died, I had a chance to work with Ric again. I heard of Ric's health not being what it could, and last night, as his wife posted in Facebook, his journey here on earth came to an end. I shared with her that just two days ago I was thinking of Ric and how I needed to stop by and see him the next time I was in Mission. I was sure Ric has some jokes to share with me as well as bring me up to date on all things funeral.
Ric was a giver and gave his all. Ric is among that number that has heard or will hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
Heaven's gain is our painful loss; but thank You, God, for Ric and men and women like Ric. Bless and comfort Kathy and their kids.
