Posted by: shannynmoore | December 22, 2010

Remembering Roger…

Roger Ranch by Rod Gonzales

Roger “BONES” Ranch was a dear friend. The news of his tragic and untimely death early this morning has devastated those that knew and loved him.

My pop always talked about the interesting mathematics of sharing your heart; when you share your joy, your joy multiplies; when you share your sorrow, your sorrow is divided.  Tomorrow is the day we normally tape Moore Up North at Taproot.  We are currently on hiatus for the holidays. Roger rarely missed our Thursday tapings. In fact, he was such a fixture, I very much noticed his absence. Out of 44 episodes since 2009, Roger only missed one.  He was always there-no matter the topic.

Here is Jeanne Devon’s beautiful tribute to Roger:

Today, Anchorage lost a great soul. He wasn’t a political leader, he didn’t hold office, but he did what we all should do – he showed up. And he didn’t just show up for a pet cause, or a particular belief. He showed up for all of them. He showed up for labor, and women, and LGBT rights, and the planet, and peace, and to support his community. Every rally, every march, every event, there was Roger. If he found a candidate he believed in, he was there every day volunteering and doing what he could.

Even if people didn’t know him personally, they always knew Roger was there. Silver hair, silver beard, and one of a variety of hats – usually straw, or a baseball cap. A growly papa bear voice, twinkly blue eyes, a ready smile and an ever present travel mug of coffee. I once told him he had the best laugh ever, a devilish baritone chuckle that lit up a conversation and made everyone else laugh too. If you earned one of those laughs it made you feel good.

I was trying to remember the first time I met Roger, and I couldn’t. It was more like he was a constant presence, a living signpost that something was going on that was worthy and important. He’d just always been there – a solid, dependable omnipresent lion. In Roger’s case, the old adage proved true – still waters ran deep. After a time, Roger and I became friends and he’d come up behind me and bump his shoulder to mine and growl, “Hey there.” And I’d say, “Hey there, Mr. Ranch,” and I knew everyone was present and accounted for.

Sometimes he’d pop in to my place of work and I’d get a call, “Your friend Roger is here.” At times I was busy, and I’d sigh and wonder how I had the time. But I’d always get up from my desk and go downstairs, and Roger and I would talk for a while about some political goings on, or something on the blog. And then I’d tell him I had to get back to work, and I’d walk back up the stairs, and I was always glad I hadn’t said I was too busy. A predictable byproduct of a conversation with Roger was always a smile.

Roger loved the blog and left comments under his nickname “Bones AK.” He’d been a medic in Okinawa, and a physicians assistant in Bethel. He was a bonesetter, and if I’d ever had a broken bone, he’s the guy I’d want to set it straight. Bones at his core was the kind of guy that you always knew had your back, and was looking out for you to make sure you were OK. The profession and he made perfect sense together.

I’ve been with people today who loved him. Not his biological family of whom there are few and none in Alaska – but his family of choice, his circle of friends who shared his passion and his company. The thing that struck me so much about Roger, turned out to be the thing that defined him for everyone, that he was a fundamentally good and decent man. There aren’t many true hearts of gold that walk the earth, and now there is one less.

When someone we care about dies, it’s always a tragedy. But there are deaths when we can say to ourselves, “It was just his time,” or “at least he died doing something he loved.” And then there are times when the universe seems utterly unfair and a good, decent person has an end that makes no sense.

Roger died in a fire. Roger had tickets purchased for a New Year’s Eve concert, and he had a lunch date today, and a special gift he was going to buy for a special person. But the universe had other plans. Or it just made a terrible mistake.

It didn’t feel like his time, and it didn’t feel like the way he should have gone. The story of his life wasn’t supposed to end like this. First responders were there just three minutes after the call came, but by then the flames had already engulfed his trailer. Anchorage firefighters broke through the window with axes and got him out. He made it to the hospital, but all that they could do was keep him comfortable, until he passed away in the early morning hours.

I like to think that somehow the souls of the departed give one last lap around before they head off to parts unknown. If Roger’s soul had done a lap today, I think he would have been surprised by the number of people affected so deeply by his life, and the leaving of it. The initial shock and grieving, and shed tears and hugs are not the things that will mark his passing. It will be every event, and rally, and campaign headquarters where he will not be. His absence will be felt as strongly as if it were a presence in itself.

A true and steady light has gone out.

You will be missed, my friend.

Thursday at 5:30pm, we are informally gathering at Taproot to share and divide our sorrow.  Please join us and raise a cup of coffee in remembrance of our beloved Roger.


Responses

  1. Sad. Another great Alaskan i had not met. My day is lessened non the less.😦

    • Punctuation aint my best trait..

  2. I will raise a cup for your friend. I can’t get anything from your site to open so I have no idea what happened to him.

    Thank you for your site Sharon in Colorado. I will understand if you do not reply as you are world wide popular now.

    thoughts with you.

  3. I did not know the Gentleman personally, though, I have been blessed with crossing paths once or trice, and I must say He cast such a Bright, Warm Light!

    So very sad and such a loss…If i tried to speak, my voice would be trembiling and I haven’t even shook his hand. BIG regret.
    He sure did comfort and better those who shared any kind of space with him.

    My deepest condolence to Roger’s family and friends, no doubt that Bones has many and of the finest kind.
    I will be lifting my cup to toast Bone’s beautiful spirit.

    • PS
      I just read AKM’s tribute to Mr. Ranch, (I don’t get to read as much as I would like right now)
      I did not know the circumstances when I wrote the above, I just knew of the huge loss & was in a, ‘NO! Not him!’-shock.
      I mean no disrespect. i am crying now, and am wondering for the upzillion time in my simpleminded life, how and why this world can be so cruel.

      RIP Roger Ranch.
      You have the love and respect of sooo many.

  4. That was a lovely comment….no one could ask for a nicer tribute. He sounds like someone I would have enjoyed knowing.

  5. Take care of yourself, Shannyn. I know this is very, very hard for you. I’ve been crying off and on for the past two days myself. I’d love to join you all this evening, but we had made previous plans for dinner. I hope there will be a memorial service before we leave for Costa Rica Jan. 12. You know we always enjoy attending your tapings, and a big part of that was Roger’s unfailing presence. It won’t be the same without him.

  6. Bones sounded like a cool human being. Wish I knew him. The world needs more people like him, supportive and aware. RIP Mr. Ranch.


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