Eulogy For My Friend Ron
July 20, 1963 ~ March 28, 2024
I met Ron over 30 years ago at his sister Debbie’s wedding, two weeks after I moved from New York City to Simi Valley, California, to marry his cousin Andy. My first impression was, “Whoa. Tall — redhead,” and then he smiled and welcomed me. I was a stranger from the Big Apple, and this giraffe of a man opened his arms and embraced me as the newest member of his extended family.
That was the essence of Ron Ginther. He was always ready to gladly accept you with a rare generosity of spirit. He assumed the best of one until shown otherwise.
The Ginthers are the most loyal, family-oriented people I know. They love loudly and enthusiastically and demonstrate a commitment to each other I’d never experienced. Ron epitomized these core values. He always went the extra mile, offered help when needed, and remembered birthdays, special occasions, and important events.
If someone needed an officiant for their wedding, Ron got ordained and performed the ceremony. Moving back home? He was there with his brothers to move the heavy stuff. Nothing to do on a lonely Friday night? Ron answered the call for an extra night of board games. Feeling a bit down? He found some good-natured way to tease you out of the blues. Ron lived to be of service to those he loved, and all he ever needed in return was a bit of appreciation. He had an open, generous heart.
He was a gentle giant of a man. He was sensitive, loving, loyal, kind, intelligent, and funny. He was my friend, and I loved him like a brother. I never knew who adopted whom, but I was accepted as an honorary member of his big, beautiful, crazy family.
Ron lived for games. That man had a brain for game strategy, unlike anyone I know. He reveled in the fact that he was the go-to guy for learning any new game or question on rules, and we relied upon him heavily. I’ve been blessed to be a part of the “Tuesday Night” gaming group for the past two years, though I’ve been playing with him and his family for over 30 years. Every Tuesday, a text chain would go out asking who was in. Ron inevitably answered first and fastest, and Vince would harangue the rest of us for our answers. Bob usually waited to answer until the last minute, and I grumped that SOME of us had to work and couldn’t answer texts at the drop of a hat!
Rich, Remy, and Debbie would drop in from time to time, which was always a treat because it totally messed up who sat where and added to our fun. Ron and Vince, fondly known as “Team Ron,” were usually separated by Rich, who would take Bob’s seat, forcing Bob to sit next to Ron. This way, they couldn’t accuse anyone else of passing cards and playing favorites to win because they had to pass them to each other! It was a usually futile attempt to impede the frequency of Ron and Bob’s wins. Hilarity always ensued.
Ron was competitive, and once he felt I, or anyone, knew a game well enough, he’d set about stealthily kicking our butts. You could always tell when Ron thought he would win because he would get quiet and look down with a small smile as we belatedly realized he was setting us up for annihilation. If he were losing, usually to his brother Bob, we’d repeatedly hear him scoff, “UNBELIEVABLE!”. He would say, “No one can draw cards like Bob!” I looked forward to Tuesday night for the smack talk, laughter, and comradery, and Ron was an integral part of that dynamic.
When we were in Vegas a few weeks ago at the board game convention, I witnessed Ron’s utter excitement as he shared his world of games with us. This was his universe and the ultimate gaming experience. He led us with authority through huge rooms filled with herds of nerds and hundreds of gaming tables. He helped us sign up ahead of time for demo and prototype games and even remembered and found a game I wanted on sale at the flea market. He knew everything the convention had to offer in detail and thrived in its unique environment. He played in tournaments, greeted people he’d met from prior years, recounted stories like mentoring a young kid through his first tourney, gave me a tour of his 2300 sq. ft. timeshare, and gifted me the “First Ladies” suite, complete with a jacuzzi because it was my first time. He was so damn proud as he showed off his kingdom. That was Ron… happiest when he could contribute to the happiness and fun of those he loved.
Everything he did revolved around family and friends. He thought of those he loved constantly… whether it was some small gift of earrings for Amber and Ashley while away at a convention, leaving a party to ensure the animals were fed at home, checking in on his mom and dad, or sharing his timeshare with his gaming buddies in Vegas. Ron was unstinting with his love, time, energy, belongings, and know-how.
The world is dimmer without Ron’s huge presence. He had a unique ability to befriend the majority of people he met. I will miss his goofy grin when he won a game, his snorts of disbelief if Bob or Rich won, how he called everyone either “Missy” or “kiddo,” his ability to talk on many subjects intelligently, and most of all, his strong sense of family. If you needed to talk, Ron was there to lend an ear and a shoulder. He was deeply loved by countless people, which is a lasting testament to the man he was.
