Richard M Swenson

I was a volunteer at DESC for many years and was lucky enough to become friends with Rick. He was a generous and caring man who knew when to be serious and when to unleash his his great sense of humor and wicked laugh. Everyone who knew him will miss his being in this world with us.

katie

Jo, Jen and Ali…

Although not a part of your lives for many, many years my heart goes out to each of you. I find myself remembering Rick from what now could be called our youth, when he, another friend and I went for a hike with Lance and my friends dog Bubba. We hiked up Red Mountain in E. WA early in the season. There was quite a bit of snow and on our way back down, Rick, Lance and I ventured off down a ridge ~ unwisely. We ended up being in a mess of vine maple that we had to step over, over and over and over again…and Lance’s back legs gave out. He wasn’t able to keep going and in essence we were lost ~ but Bubba, my friends dog found us and lead us back up to the trail. Rick proceeded to carry Lance, all 60 or so pounds of him out of the tangeled mess and the whole way several miles back to the car on his shoulders. The loyality I saw that day is the same loyality Rick had to helping those most in need…the Alice Kerner’s, Eddie Sayian’s and Mervin Paul’s whose lives were, forever more enriched and changed. In Rick, we have lost an strong advocate for the homeless whose voices are often muffled, if not silenced by their lives of turmoil. Jo, my heart goes out to you…and memories live for always. Peace be with you. Chris Hollinger

We are so sorry to hear of Rick’s passing. Jenna and our daughter Corie are friends, they played soccer together and Rick’s support on the side lines for Ballard United is certainly legendary! Our thoughts are with JoAnn, Jenna and Ali at this most difficult time.

Doug, Beth and Corie Lyn

JoAnn was a UW-LaCrosse roommate of mine. Our group of friends looked out for one another all the time. This was especially true when a man came into someone’s life. When Rick entered JoAnn’s life, it was crystal clear that he would pass our inspection. His love for JoAnn was evident from the very beginning. Rick was one of the good guys. Everyone could see how Rick made JoAnn very happy. 25 years later that love was still going strong.

The past couple of years, we enjoyed skiing with Rick and JoAnn in Utah. Three things impressed me about those ski adventures; Rick’s style and grace as he floated down the mountain, his leather ski hat and most of all the way he always kept in contact with his two daughters back in Seattle. Rick would call them from the top of the mountain just to check in and have a chat. The love he shared with his daughters was never in doubt.

All of my future ski adventures will include a Black Diamond run and a Bloody Mary at lunch in his honor.

My deepest sympathies to JoAnn, Jenna & Ali. Losing someone so dear and so remarkable is a loss that is difficult to comprehend, let alone experience. I met Rick when I moved to Minnesota for my first job after college where we worked together at Arlington House. Rick was the one I looked to for making sense of my new environment. I was so fortunate to share together with JoAnn some great adventures with Rick. His caring, humor, adventure and common sense transcended absurd situations and made a real difference in the lives of kids and in my life. One particular memory stands out for me. Minnesota winters can be brutal–with 20 below zero not uncommon. One morning my car would not start, so Rick offered to help. He brings his starter fluid and works on the car in subzero temperatures as I watch. Poof–flames shoot up, my heart stops, then I see Rick with that grin, eyebrows, eye lashes and hair singed. ”I guess I used a bit too much!” May his sense of caring and humor guide us all. Take care of yourselves.

Richard Mark Swenson

Where does one start in remembering and celebrating the life of my little brother Ricky, as he was called growing up. I’m sure he would start by saying that I’m not a “little” brother.

When I last saw Rick a few months ago we knew he was sick but on the outside he looked so normal. Now as I think about his death it is with a great feeling of sadness, yet the life he lived as a child and adult bring a smile to my face. It doesn’t take any imagination to see him pulled up in a chair at the edge of this gathering with that smile on his face that I saw so many times. It feels good for me to be here today with my sister-in-law, JoAnn, nieces, Jenna, Ali, and Rick’s family and friends.

As we remember and celebrate Rick’s life today I’ll try to take you back to the midwestern family farm where we grew up together. As Ricky was born before I was 3 years old, so it seemed as if he was always around. There were 5 of us kids, two big boys, two little boys separated by a girl in the middle. Rick and I were the little boys. We played together inside the house with farm toys and trains being the most common indoor play. One of my first memories of working with Ricky was in the cab of our big red truck, on the truck’s door was, “Swenson Herford Farms, Orville C. Swenson and Sons”. I was probably around 6 years old so Rick was around 3 when we drove the truck picking up hay bales in the field. I had all I could do trying not to jerk when starting in super low gear, so Ricky sat on his knees in the passenger seat looking out the window telling me to turn closer or further way from the stack of bales. Being on a farm we were outside working and playing most of the time. Our farm had many types of farm animals so the chores were many and time consuming. Usually we worked well together carrying feed pails and hay bales as needed to the different pens and areas of the farmyard. Once in a while something would happen and a fight would break out usually wrestling. I remember one fight, although not the reason it started, while we were filling pails in the corncrib and the corncobs became the weapon of choice. A full cob of corn can be quite painful if you take one in the head and I probably remember this fight as I ended up being hit the most. Chores usually took longer as we were not always working; we were always braiding bale twine to make rope and often we were trying to see who could tightrope walk down the wooden plank fence the farthest before falling into the barnyard. Sometimes we fed the young Herford cattle along a fence and they would crowd the fence to get feed. We would then climb on the fence, wait for the right moment and jump on the their back. Usually it was one or two jumps of the calf and we were laying on the ground a little sore and dirty but ready to try it again.

Living on a farm with fields, woods, sloughs and a lake we had so much to explore. Much of our free time was in the woods. We built forts, which consisted of a cleared area sometimes with a twine border. Sticks and branches were formed into a shelter. Tin cans became our dishes although boiling water on the campfire was about the extent of our cooking. Through all these times Rick and I were together, brothers and friends.

As we got older we wanted horses. Growing up there was a horse named Goldy but she was gone before Rick and I could handle her by ourselves. Dad agreed that we could have horses and with our 4-H money we went looking. Our older brothers Jerry and Paul thought Dad and Mom were getting soft on parenting. Dad took us to a number of horse sales, quite a drive in those days, and other farms before we found Chips and Sheba. Chips was Rick’s horse a Sorrel that stood about 14 and half hands. I was talking to my Dad last weekend and he said that getting us horses was one of the best things he did. I think he even said at the time, “at least the horses will have some common sense”. Now with horses we had more chores, but time with our horses never felt like work to either Rick or I. We talked to them and rode almost everyday. They also became a 4-H project so we took them to the county fair and showed them in front of the grandstand. Our horses gave us mobility and many Sunday afternoons we would travel miles around our farm neighborhood.

There was one specific time that our fort building connected with our horses. One of the TV shows we watched Ricky was about 6 years old when we got a black and white television on our one channel was the “Wonderful World of Disney” A number of shows had a character called the “Scarecrow”. In short he was a Robin Hood type protecting and helping those in need through out the countryside. Even the people who rode with him did not know his identity. So of course being young with horses and imagination we acted out our own version of Scarecrow. We even built a hideout about a mile from the farmyard near Lake Ben in a grove of trees. It had the standard cleaned out area with a rock fire ring but this one also included a stable area. We kept it hidden from view with grasses, shrubs and low hanging branches covering the trail into the hide out. We talked about this at home but told no one of its location. One day Jerry and Paul rode our horses and came back telling us exactly where our hide out was, they had ridden to the general location, given Chips and Sheba rein and let them go where they wanted to go. They walked right into the hideout and stopped in their place in the stable. I’m sure Jerry and Paul were surprised when the horses headed right into solid trees and branches only to have a key branch swing aside to reveal the trail.

As kids the big camping trip was 5 miles away in thick woods near a wild lake on our Grandfather’s land. As I remember one trip it was just Rick and myself. We had a canvas pup tent that probably weighed at least 30 pounds along with bags of food and containers of water, knives and ax. I guess if we would have had any problems one of us would have needed to find a neighbor with a phone. As I remember we were just dropped off at the gravel road with a pick up time the next day. This spot is in old growth Oak woods on a 20-foot bank overlooking the small lake. From this “headquarters” we could explore the deer trails, follow our imaginations and pick up snail shells along the shoreline. This is the spot where years later Rick would take a group of kids from St. Paul on a winter camping trip. Being willing to even attempt that type of trip goes a long way explaining what type of person Rick was growing up to be. I was back to this camping spot recently and wood that Rick cut and piled for later use is still there although decaying.

One of my favorite memories of Ricky and the rest of us doing chores on the farm was on Christmas Eve. The Christmas Eve I specifically remember was a cold clear Minnesota evening. We started chores early and made sure all of the livestock were well fed and watered. Then we would make sure all the animals had fresh oat straw bedding including the big basement barn that the Herford cattle herd could be in to stay out of the wind and cold. We would use the H Farmall tractor with a loader to distribute bales of straw around to the various buildings. Then we would spread and fluff the straw with a fork as the animals milled around us. Usually the animals especially the young would run and jump through the straw as we moved through the barn. Sometime later in the evening as the sun was setting we would hear the bell ring from our church about a mile away though the countryside. One of the members, on this night a relative, rang the bell for a long time. I’m sure Rick’s feet and fingers were just as cold as mine as we walked to the house but we felt so good knowing that all of our animals were well fed and warm.

Rick you and the life you lived will not be forgotten. May you Rest in Peace.

Craig Floyd Swenson, February 27th, 2010, Seattle, Washington