Ronald Daryl Shanklin

This morning, my father, Ronal Daryl Shanklin passed away peacefully in his sleep. After a battle over the passed 3-4 years, and maybe longer than we even realized, he had had enough. My father has relationships with so many people around me and with my friends that I needed to come here to tell you all at one time. Some that have become family to us, and to those that we haven’t seen in a while, you are STILL our family.

I’m going to take some time for anyone who would like to read about the father my Dad was.

My father, Ronald Shanklin, never missed a field trip and was commonly one of the parent volunteers to drive the class anywhere needed. The teachers would normally stick the “bad” kids with my father, knowing that he could manage difficult personalities, and those types of children usually responded well to the strength my Dad exuded without effort.

My father ran the local NFL Punt, Pass, and Kick competition every year. For those not familiar, the program, it was a competition for children to punt, pass, and kick and have their distances measured. Finalists would compete on the 49er field during halftime. My older brother Benjamin, myself and my little brother Joshua were commonly his sidekicks on these types of projects that he commonly found himself in. It would be 6 AM on a cold Sacramento morning when my brothers and I would get to Ridgepoint Elementary and help set up for the competition. Looking back, I can see how the tasks that we all did together helped shape the men that we became. We never questioned or complained, but not for fear of punishment, but because we genuinely loved being around our father and being at his side to conquer whatever challenge he had set out for us.

My father spoke to his mother every Sunday for hours. And until adulthood, we went “back east” to visit my father's side of the family, who all resided in Cleveland, Ohio. I remember my father telling my Grandmother, “You gotta lose weight Ma! You gotta stop smoking cigarettes”. To no avail, as my grandmother would be a smoker until the day she died. I recall the similar conversation I had with him in his late years saying “You gotta be more active Dad.” You gotta eat this, you gotta do that.. Not knowing the internal battle my father was battling at the time.

My father was attacked when my siblings and I were all children by a Hells Angel member while we were eating as a family at a McDonald's. My mother talks of the sound the pipe made on the back of my father's head as he lost consciousness and his face slammed on the ground. A cowardly act cut my father's life short. As I see other fathers even older than mine being able to play with their grandchildren, I still rejoice that my father was able to meet his grandson, Ezra-James Hirity-Shanklin, and smile from his bed and wave as he’s grown these past 10 months (A post for another time).

While grief is undoubtedly a part of the emotions I feel, it is not the strongest. My father gave me and all of my siblings SO many gifts. He showed me how to walk with strength but joy simultaneously. My father was a singer himself, telling my siblings and me his stories of a group he used to sing with in Cleveland called The Metronomes. Every Sunday we would go to Calvary Christian Center, blasting a range of Gospel music, from Bebe and Cece Wynans, to Yolanda Adams to Marvin Sapp. The action of singing isn’t possible without joy, and my father MUST have been THE most JOYOUS human on the planet most Sundays. Hitting notes and singing that must have made me and my brothers think that talent like this was commonplace, for it to be displayed to us so often and effortlessly. Rejoicing with a tremendous Hallelujah as we arrived at CCC. Engaging with the other worshipers that were at church that day, and the message was clear.. EVERYONE was our sister and brother.

He would volunteer in the Overcommers program, which helped individuals get their lives back on track from drug addiction or prison. There were different eras where we would pick up someone who was a staple on our ride to church for maybe a year or so, only to be replaced with another member of the program when the time came.

In the coming week after the Holiday, we will be planning funeral services. Thank you, everyone, in advance for your love and support through this time, and I want everyone to understand how much you all meant to him and how much you mean to me.

There are so many things to say, so many people to thank, none as much as my brother Joshua, who has dedicated his life to making our father as comfortable these last years as possible.

I will share more when the time is right. Thank you, everyone, and thank you, Dad… I love you, and I will never forget you