Richard V. Reyna Sr.

Life-loving. Love-giving. Selfless. Generous. It is with great sadness that the family of Richard Vindiola Reyna, Sr., 76, announces his resurrection into eternal life on August 30, 2024, leaving this world after an 11-year battle with lung cancer. A steady stream of family and friends visited Richard at his home in Yucaipa in his final days, reminiscing, remembering, weeping, laughing.

Richard was born in Redlands, California to Joe Reyna, Sr., and Virginia Vindiola Reyna, both of Redlands, both deceased. He was the youngest of four brothers: Joe Reyna, Redlands, Henry Reyna, San Bernardino, and Manuel Reyna, Redlands, who preceded him in death. He was also preceded in death by his daughter Regina Wheaton, also from Redlands.

Richard had three children from a previous marriage to Evangeline Chio Reyna: Regina Wheaton (deceased), Denise Reyna Ashforth, Escondido, and Richie Reyna, Jr., San Francisco.

He was remarried to Celina Arredondo Reyna on March 19, 2011, and became stepfather to Celina’s children from a previous marriage: Dr. Mia Montoya and Marisa Montoya, Redlands.

Richard was blessed with six grandchildren: Robin Douge (Regina), Luke Ashforth, Karlie Ashforth (Denise). He had three step grandchildren: Alexandria Forney, Ryan Ashforth, and Nick Ashforth (stepchildren of Denise).

He also had four great-grandchildren: Josiah, Layla, Amelia, and Azariah Douge (Robin) and two step great- grandchildren: Griffin and William Forney (Alexandria).

Fishing was Richard’s greatest pastime. He also enjoyed golf and was an avid Dodgers, Rams, and Lakers fan. He liked to dance, and he loved music from the 60’s, especially The Beatles.

Richard attended school from kindergarten to high school in Redlands. He began working at an early age to supplement the family income, taking orange grove jobs as a picker and a smudger. He was drafted into the army in 1968 at the age of 20 and served for thirteen months in Vietnam. He married his first wife in 1970 and the two raised their three children in Redlands. Richard worked an array of jobs, finally landing a custodial job in the Redlands Unified School District and working himself up to lead custodian at Arroyo Verde Elementary School. In 2008, he was nominated for Classified Employee of the Year.

Teachers and students at Arroyo Verde considered Richard their friend. Always ready to help, Richard went above and beyond to assure that teachers and students had whatever they needed to make their day run smoothly. With keys clinking on his keychain and his familiar high-crowned hat on his head, Richard was truly loved by all. It was at Arroyo Verde that Richard and Celina, a fourth-grade teacher, met, fell in love, and married. He retired in 2014 after 35 years in Redlands Unified.

Richard touched many lives. He loved family gatherings and spending time with friends. Richard was a “people person” and everyone enjoyed his laid-back personality, positive attitude, and ready laughter, all encompassed within a big heart. His kindness and compassion for others will be greatly missed and never forgotten.

A Requiem Mass will be held on Friday, January 31, 2025, at 1:00 pm in the All Souls Catholic Church at Our Lady Queen of Peace cemetery (next door to Montecito Memorial Park) followed by Military Honors and Committal Service at the internment site.

3510 Washington Street

Colton, CA 92324

There will be a Remembrance Gathering on the day of the service at 5:30 pm at the home of

Richard and Celina

34989 Jade Court Yucaipa, CA 92399

Dinner, drinks, music

Dress warmly

Please RSVP name and number attending to Denise Reyna Ashforth by phone call or text

(760) 803-2034 by December 20, 2024

When Great Trees Fall

-Maya Angelou

When great trees fall,

rocks on distant hills shudder,

lions hunker down

in tall grasses,

and even elephants

lumber after safety.

When great trees fall

in forests,

small things recoil into silence,

their senses

eroded beyond fear.

When great souls die,

the air around us becomes

light, rare, sterile.

We breathe, briefly.

Our eyes, briefly,

see with

a hurtful clarity.

Our memory, suddenly sharpened,

examines,

gnaws on kind words

unsaid,

promised walks

never taken.

Great souls die and

our reality, bound to

them, takes leave of us.

Our souls,

dependent upon their

nurture,

now shrink, wizened.

Our minds, formed

and informed by their

radiance,

fall away.

We are not so much maddened

as reduced to the unutterable ignorance

of dark, cold

caves.

And when great souls die,

after a period peace blooms,

slowly and always

irregularly. Spaces fill

with a kind of

soothing electric vibration.

Our senses, restored, never

to be the same, whisper to us.

They existed. They existed.

We can be. Be and be

better. For they existed.