Dennis Albert Fry

Dennis was the firstborn child of Charley and Allie Fry, born in the tiny community of Almartha, MO, March 9, 1938. Three more Fry babies came into the world in that little house with no running water or electricity, and then the family moved to Bakersfield, California in 1944, where four more children were added to the family, eight Fry kids altogether.

One of several reasons the young Charley Fry family moved to California was to seek medical assistance for Dennis. Dennis was a healthy and robust baby, but by the time he was a year old it was evident something wasn’t right. He wasn’t developing the balance and coordination babies and toddlers typically display, and consultations with doctors began in his behalf. The family had little to pay for medical care, and where they lived little was available.

Charley and Allie, Dad and Mom, did everything they could to help Dennis with his developmental handicaps, including buying a little red wagon which they used to transport him over the hilly paths of the Ozarks. He also used the wagon as a walker of sorts, and always had a love of wagons and things with wheels. After moving to California, where the ground was flatter and the livelihoods better and medical resources more abundant, Dennis was taken for diagnosis and treatment to Kern General Hospital and various doctors, and made trips to Los Angeles for consultation with doctors at the L.A. Children’s Hospital. No helpful medical answers were found, and Dennis developed a profound distaste for doctors and hospitals, but through it all he enjoyed the love and support of wonderful parents and siblings, and extended family and church.

When Dennis’s sisters and brothers married and began to have children, Dennis came into a new role that fit him wonderfully well, Uncle Dennis. He had overcome several great obstacles, without even realizing they were obstacles, to become substantially self sufficient, able to care for himself in his parents’ home, and he was great fun for all the nieces and nephews who frequently came to visit. He liked to play games,

but the greatest fun just seemed to be in playing with Uncle Dennis. He continued to be a favorite of his grand nieces and nephews, and great-grand nieces and nephews, all his life. His grin could and many

times did light up a room, and smiles and laughs came easily.

Dennis enjoyed his Red Skelton Show and Johnny Cash and Chuck Wagon Gang, and could watch Gilligan’s Island over and over again, finding it entertaining every time. He liked fishing, and he liked his candy and chips and sodas. He loved to travel, and always rode “shotgun” in the family cars. He was easy to please in many ways, but also had the same sorts of complaints and preferences that everyone has.

Dennis worked for a grocery store for about 16 years, mostly sorting pop bottles and bundling empty boxes, and doing some work for the produce manager. He was hired by the store manager who had seen Dennis shopping and at the checkout line many times with his mother and grandpa, and thought Dennis just might be a reliable worker. He was indeed a reliable worker. Dennis was in all ways a person you could count on for anything he was capable of doing, which was a surprising lot of things. He always had his self-appointed tasks at church, including chores that apparently called for skills he didn’t have, and yet he learned to do them and was faithful and reliable. He always worked around the yard, until he wasn’t

physically capable. While he wasn’t a “good” driver, because he had coordination issues, he bought a riding mower and for years enjoyed mowing the big yards at home with his lawn tractor.

As Dennis aged and needed more help he was blessed to have family move into the house he’d lived in with Mom and Dad since 1957 and assist him. The assistance grew more and more demanding after he lost his ability to walk late in 2019, but by the grace of God he was lovingly cared for and truly had a good and full life until he took his final breaths in this world as he settled into bed on Friday night, February 28.

We who have known Dennis are blessed by our experiences with him. Dennis was greatly blessed and given more grace through the love he received across the years and in all the places and facing all the challenges, with both laughter and tears. Dennis will never again say, “I wish I could quit coughing,” or any of the other little frustrations he mentioned often that aging brought upon him, because he has gone to be with our Redeemer, who wipes away the tears. We thank God for Dennis.