My Dad, Clarence L. "Chic" Richrod, was born June 9, 1920 in Long Island, New York. He grew up in countless Queens and Brooklyn flats with an assortment of parents and extended family. What seemed to me a chaotic childhood punctuated by some years in a Salvation Army orphanage was, to Dad, the source of fond memories and excellent stories.
He joined the Army at 18 where he found a home that would last a lifetime and with it the opportunity to succeed through hard work and ingenuity, two of Dad's most formidable skills. He met Mom, an Army nurse, while he was recuperating from an injury at Madigan Hospital. They fell in love and stayed that way for the next 55 years.
For my brothers Jim, Alan and myself, Dad was a force to be reckoned with. He expected us to earn what we got, be true to our word and behave respectfully to others. A tall order for a willful daughter but impossible to refute when he was the embodiment of all those things and more. I osmosed his agenda despite my best efforts.
In the decade since my Mom Jean's death, Dad and I have spent much of our time together. He was my steady date, my living reference work and head of maintenance. He could build, fix or invent anything. He produced beautiful craftsman furniture. He was a generous spirit, a radiant smile and all heart. I'm not the only one who is better for having known him. He died peacefully on January 25, 2011 in the Gearhart home he built for Mom.
Remembrances may be made in Dad's name to Lower Columbia Hospice. In loving memory,