By Chazz
I just found out a few minutes ago my good friend Ron Carrion passed away (June 29). My first thoughts were to share the news with those I knew who also loved him. And then there were those close to him who I thought it might be better if someone else were to be the messenger of such heartbreaking sorrow.
My next thoughts turned to heaven. I imagined what Ron’s first words to God would be. He would say, “Can I get you anything?”
That was Ron. He was the most hospitable man I ever met. The last time I saw him, he tried to give me his lunch over and over again. I never saw him when he didn’t ask if I wanted something to eat or drink.
He was courteous to the utmost and “such a kind, gentle soul” as another friend said.
He was brave and true. He was a veteran. He was a father, grandfather and great-grandfather. He was a great husband. He was a great friend. I never heard an unkind word said about him
He was an exceptional businessman. He owned a restaurant for years in Weston. He was a professional photographer. He had other jobs and remarkable adventures. He told me tales of being a deep sea recovery diver in New York. He never lost his accent or his authenticity.
When I met Ron he was married to Jean, the lady from down south he’d left the north for. He thought the beauty of the Marion County area was a great treasure, second only to Jean. He called it heaven on earth. Jean was the great love of his life, and they were an exceptional couple for nearly 70 years. When doctors gave her three months to live, he dedicated his mind, body and soul to her survival. Under his tender care, she lived three more years. I sat next to her all day long on the day before she died. I thought losing her would kill Ron. It nearly did.
But he soldiered on... home alone and terribly lonely, but making the best of it. I remember sitting with him on a swing in his yard on a spring day, while two rambunctious puppies sped around us in circles.
After a bad fall, Ron moved into Country Place Senior Living in Hamilton. I always say, “Sunsets can be beautiful,” and I think Ron’s was. His friends at Country Place gave him a new lease on life. The staff couldn’t help but love him, too, just like everyone who ever knew him. They took great care of him and spoiled him like he deserved.
I checked him out one time near Christmas. He’d won a gift certificate and wanted to spend the money on gifts for the staff. I took him to Walmart and was going to push him around in a special buggy. A gentleman came out with a motorized scooter. Ron loved it! He drove all around Walmart, laughing and having the best time. He only knocked over one display. He played like a little kid for at least an hour.
At Country Place, among others there, fellow veteran Fred Barton became a close friend. And God even gave Ron a sweetheart, Dorothy, to bring brightness and joy into his life. After Jean, I never imagined Ron finding love again. But God had other plans. I’m glad He did.
With Dorothy by his side, Ron seemed the most peaceful I’d seen him in years. Every time I saw him, he was smiling. He seemed content and full of a quiet joy. I am grateful he had a special companionship that added brilliant colors to his sunset.
Through all the years I knew him, Ron could also be a very funny guy, too. He made me laugh each time we were able to visit. When Country Place had a luau one year, I was joking around and taking photos with Ron, when behold, I notice later he had put a toucan up near his face and was goofing around for the camera. He definitely had a great sense of humor.
One of the last memories I will always cherish was when he had more than 90 candles lit on his birthday cake and a small fire nearly broke out as he went to blow them all out. That day, his long-time and beloved friend, Pam Garrison, was there, as well as a new friend, Missy Miles, and a few others. Ron loved a party. I’m glad he got to have that special birthday with us all.
Ron was very patriotic. He went to every veteran program he could attend. There were many times I would get to sit beside him and watch as he engaged with other veterans, sharing stories and memories of their service time. He loved to talk, and he loved talking to his fellow veterans most of all. He served two years in the U.S. Army during the Korean War and attained the rank of corporal.
Ron also became friends with my greatest veteran friend, Marvin Cecil Rye, who served in World War II. I remember taking Marvin Cecil to see Ron on his birthday once—Dec. 20. That is also my brother’s birthday, and both veterans shared in a phone call to my big brother, Freddie. They were joyous to communicate with him, as my brother is also a veteran of the U.S. Navy.
That was the last time we were all together. When Marvin died a couple of months later, I could not tell Ron. When he asked how Marvin was, I always said, “He’s doing great.” Because he was. He was in heaven, where everyone is doing great! I guess Ron may have been a little surprised to find Marvin there today. He probably asked if he could get Marvin anything. Marvin was 100 minus 2 when he died. Ron was 100 minus 5.
Hat’s off to our remarkable friend, Ron. If you knew him, you loved him. I’m sorry for the loss for his family, his friends, his fellow residents and for our world. But I’m happy Ron is roaming around heaven now, maybe telling everyone how much it reminds him of Marion County. I imagine him sharing his wonderful sense of humor and his adorable accent.
And I’m fairly certain he’ll forever be sharing his unmatchable knack of making sure everyone else around him is as comfortable as they can possibly be.
See complete story in the Journal Record.
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