A BROTHER, A FRIEND, A BLESSING

Celebrating the Life of Gerald Wayne Reeves

A very dear friend left this world last month, and the loss still echoes.

When someone passes, we often soften their memory, polishing away imperfections and painting their life in flawless strokes. We search for the good and amplify it.

But with Gerald Wayne Reeves, the truth requires no embellishment. His goodness stood on its own. His legacy was woven from pure kindness, steady honesty, and a heart that seemed almost too generous for this world.

To find a spirit like Gerald’s, one might have to look back to ancient biblical times. Even then, those legendary figures carried flaws. Gerald, however, lived with such sincerity that you would struggle to find anyone in our community who ever held a grievance against him.

He liked everyone he met. He treated each soul he encountered with an innate kindness and deep respect. His honesty was not merely a trait—it was the foundation of his character. Because he never lied, he carried a rare innocence, a gentle assumption that others would treat truth with the same reverence he did.

As the youngest of four boys, Gerald’s older brothers lovingly teased him without mercy. They convinced him he was adopted and that his real name was “Virgil.” Gerald didn’t pout or protest. Instead, he embraced the joke as proof of how special he was to them. Even in adulthood, when one of his brothers called him “Virgil,” he didn’t hear mockery — he heard affection, a private nickname shared only between brothers.

Perhaps Gerald saw the world through rose-colored glasses, and if he did, it served his soul well.

Lest anyone misunderstand, Gerald was not naïve, nor simple, nor slow. His goodness was deliberate. It was a brilliant, conscious way of living.

While his brothers excelled in traditional sports, Gerald walked a quieter path. He preferred the steady rhythm of horseback riding and spent countless hours immersed in the Bible, determined to strengthen his reading. Through devotion and discipline, he became skilled at both.

Before turning forty, Gerald was appointed an elder in his congregation — a decision that surprised no one. He had already become the man people trusted most: compassionate, steady, and deeply loving. Whenever a heavy heart needed an ear, the community’s first choice was always Brother Reeves. Despite being a devoted husband and proud father of two, he always made time for late-night calls, carrying others’ burdens as if they were his own.

To understand the enduring grace of his character, look back to a moment from his childhood—a moment that revealed exactly who he would become.

Gerald was six years old when he walked into the school nurse’s office, quietly cradling his left arm. Nurse White recognized the signs of a broken bone immediately. As she fitted him with a temporary sling, she asked his name and how he’d gotten the injury.

His face was flushed with pain, making his soft blond hair look like white cotton. Gritting his teeth, he said, “My name is Gerald Wayne Reeves, and I was trying to fly but did not swing high enough to take off.”

The nurse, puzzled, asked, “Gerry, what made you think you could fly?”

“My name is Gerald Wayne Reeves,” he repeated gently but firmly.

She tried again. “No one calls you Gerry or Cotton? Please explain why you were trying to fly.”

“My name is Gerald Wayne Reeves, not Gerry or Cotton. Everyone calls me Gerald Wayne Reeves. I didn’t wait until I was swinging way up high. I jumped off the swing too soon, and so I didn’t fly.”

Nurse White, securing the splint, pressed further. “Gerald Wayne Reeves, who told you that you could fly if you got high enough?”

Gerald swallowed hard. “It is my fault. The boys told me that if I got on the swing, they would push me and push me until I got high enough to jump and start flying. I was not high enough to fly. That’s all.”

He closed his eyes and said no more. He refused to name the boys who had tricked him. Even at six, his heart was too large to hold resentment. He protected the very children who had caused his pain.

People often say, “When they made him, they broke the mold.” I like to think that whoever first spoke those words must have glimpsed a soul like Gerald’s in their imagination — a quiet, enduring grace meant for a world that desperately needs it.

Gerald Wayne Reeves was a gift to us all. And the world feels a little emptier without his light.

Scripture

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”

Matthew 5:8

Closing Scripture

“Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Matthew 25:23