John Post
There are some people you know for years, and there are others you meet only a handful of times who somehow leave an impression that lasts just as long. Ryan was one of those people.
I didn’t have the privilege of knowing Ryan deeply, but I was fortunate enough to spend time with him at his Omi’s (Barbara Benke’s) home on several occasions. Every time I saw him, he had a way of making everyone around him feel comfortable. He shared stories with me about the Air Force and life in rural Arkansas. He always spoke of his dog and his love for all animals. That was something we shared, along with his Omi. He would show me pictures of planes, his friends, and tell me about his future plans. This young man always had a plan. The last one I recall was heading to San Diego, California, to serve in the Air Force Reserve after his four years of service in Arkansas.
He carried himself with a kindness and sincerity that was impossible to miss. He was, without a doubt, an old soul whose kindness and wisdom far exceeded his years. He had a warmth that drew people in and a light that seemed to shine even during life’s darkest moments.
One thing I’ll always remember is how much he wanted to know about his grandfather, Julius Benke, whom he didn’t have the privilege of knowing due to his passing before Ryan was born. He would ask me questions about him, and while all I could offer were childhood memories of Mr. Benke, the wonderful man he was, and the deli he owned in New York. No matter what my father or I ordered, the price was always “five bucks,” delivered in his deep Hungarian accent. Most of the time, the order was worth much more, but that was simply the kind and generous man Julius was.
I could see how much those stories meant to Ryan. That spoke volumes about the kind of young man he was. He cared so deeply about his family, their history, and the people who came before him.
Ryan and I also shared an appreciation for Barbara’s cooking, especially when she made pork filets with mashed potatoes. It may seem like a simple memory, but it’s one I’ll always smile about. It reminds me of the warmth of Omi’s home, the love she poured into every meal, and how those moments brought family and friends together.
Although my time with Ryan was limited, I walked away each time feeling like I had known him much longer. That’s a rare gift. His genuine heart, gentle spirit, and caring nature made that kind of impression.
Barbara has been, and always will be, a dear friend to me. As she would tell you, “She knew me before I knew me.” I grew up in New York, and she always shared her in-ground pool with me, my older brother, and my sister. She put a ladder near the gate between our backyards so we could simply climb over without the need to try to climb the fence. We went to parties and any festivities her and Julius were having. We weren’t just neighbors, we were family.
My heart breaks for Barbara, for Eric and Robin, for Pam, and for everyone who loved and truly cared for Ryan. There are simply no words that can make sense of a loss like this. It’s unfathomable. It’s a tragedy that can never be explained. My hope is that, in time, the overwhelming pain will give way to cherished memories, and that Barbara will find comfort in believing Ryan has been reunited with his beloved Grandpa Julius, a grandfather he so deeply admired and longed to know.
Ryan’s life, though far too short, touched more people than he probably ever realized. I feel fortunate to have known him, and I will always remember his kindness, his warmth, the smile that greeted me whenever I walked through the door at his Omi’s house, and the genuine person he was.
May Ryan’s memory forever be a blessing, and may he watch over all his friends and family who cared so deeply for him.
R.I.P. Ryan, forever remembered.🕊️🤍
