James Ronald Houtz

Today was my uncle’s funeral. I was not able to be there and that fact makes me sad. Further still, the fact that my uncle is gone is far worse. I finally read his obituary that was in his local paper. It warmed my heart to read that all of my cousins were the pallbearers, just like how it was at my grandpa’s funeral. The obituary was just a snapshot of his life, as an obituary usually is. This snapshot does not begin to give the reader a decent impression of who my Uncle Ron Houtz was. So, I felt some elaboration on this topic was needed. My words could indeed fail but I shall do my best.

When I was little, we lived in Louisville, KY which is about an hour away from where my grandparents and my three uncles lived. I remember the times when my Uncle Ron or Uncle Frank would be driving through Louisville. They’d stop over for the night and my mom would sit up late with whichever one was visiting. I remember one New Year’s Eve, my Uncle Ron visited. Mom, my sister, me and Uncle Ron all stayed up to see in the new year. Uncle Ron was playing our keyboard, flowing from one song to the next seamlessly, waiting for midnight to arrive. When if was realized that midnight was here, he started playing Auld Lang Syne.

I always liked Uncle Ron because he was quieter than the rest. There was a gentleness about him and it was comforting. When it came to disciplining his children he talked to them instead of spanking. My three cousins have grown into fine people too. Uncle Ron had a quick wit and a fantastic sense of humor (like the rest of the Houtz family). I remember when the family would get together, there’d be grandpa, the three uncles, some of the aunts and my mom sitting around the long table in the dining room. Us kids would go off into the sitting room with the piano. We’d be brought back into the front room because of uproarious laughter! This was because everyone was telling stories and we’d just missed the ending. All the adults would be flushed red in the face and howling with laughter. Such a sight and sound to behold! One was definitely torn between hanging out with the cousins or listening to the adults tell stories. Either way, it was always a good time when everyone got together.

Every New Year we’d have a family reunion with my grandma’s side of the family. Everyone would gather at the old Portland Christian School’s gymnasium building. Inside the same building was the home economics classrooms which meant plenty of ovens for cooking and plenty of room for gathering. I remember at the end of these get-togethers, my Uncle Duane and Uncle Ron, always armed with cameras, would set up for the family group shot. Cameras on tripods would be set in place. Timers would be set and then the dash to get into the picture would be off! There were a few pictures where one or both uncles would be caught sliding into the lower corner of the picture. That was always entertaining for us kids because they’d slide in where we were on the floor! Ever the photographers and videographers, there are priceless home movies of my uncles when they were younger. The first time we saw then in bell bottom jeans, running down a snowy bank at my grandparent’s house, we had questions! (“That was the style back then!!” we were told)

My Uncle Ron was also a magnificent musician. Genuinely, there was not an instrument he could not play. I knew him to play piano and guitar first but discovered he also played the flute and then any instrument he touched. He even got caught playing a tune on the rungs of his office chair one day at work! He collected different instruments from all over and also designed an instrument (I think it’s currently in production). I have not know anyone else with such varied musical talent as my Uncle Ron. That being said, when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease, I was…..angry. I don’t know who I was angry with but in my mind, to have this disease come to such a talented musician, it seemed very unfair. “Why HIM of all people?!”, was my first exclamation when I found out. Despite his diagnosis, he persisted and would still play his instruments. After the Parkinson’s diagnosis, two more ugly diagnosis’ followed. He always had a sense of humor along the way, once writing about one of his hospital stays last year. I’ve not met another person like him. Uncle Ron was well loved by his family and friends.

Living in Arizona, far away from Kentucky, I feel I missed out on a lot of time with this side of the family. I can’t change this but what memories I do have are fond ones and Uncle Ron will indeed be missed.