At my father’s funeral, I realized how much I am indeed like him. I have inherited so many traits and characteristics from Daddy. His homegoing service was simply perfect, despite being planned amidst grief and exhaustion all the while in shock. My community will always hold a special place in my heart. I was comforted by each and every person in attendance. I will more than likely never be able to express what it meant for them to be present that day and learn about my father. You can get to know him still, by viewing the service held at Christ Community Chapel in Hudson, Ohio on January 26, 2019. I remember there was an abundance of snow on the ground that day.

His obituaries will forever remain on the Stewart and Calhoun Funeral Home and Akron Beacon Journal websites.

Remarks On My Big Brother: Kenneth L. Walker

By Gail C. Walker (his sister)

I was 6 years old. It was summer. Laughing and romping in the grass … barefoot. Then I stepped on a bee. Kenny, three years older, saw me crumple and rushed over.  He pulled out the stinger.  But my foot hurt too much to walk. Kenny turned and leaned, told me to hop on his back. He toted me around like a backpack the rest of the day and much of the next. My big brother. I remember this because it‘s the first time I recall experiencing pain and because Kenny was so matter-of-fact, no big deal, happy to help me.

Our childhood – baseball, base-runner, fade-away jump shots, ping pong … No. Correction – grand-slam ping pong – you better hit it back or get out of the way because that ball would go through you if Kenny was behind the paddle – spiral footballs. Kenny was an athlete, down to the nuance. –He  could seriously jump rope, like Ali – a precise blur of human energy – an art form in motion … and, back when Marbles was a sport – Kenny was Marble Champion of Akron. True.  

Joy was all of us laying in the backyard grass watching a blimp and big puffy clouds float overhead.

 As a young teen, concerts that I wanted to see came to town, but our parents said my friends and I were too young to go to without a grown-up.  Kenny showed up for chaperone duty. As a big brother, he was nice. He was understated, studious, neat and organized as a school master, old school with a side order of cool. He went off to college, took a philosophy course among his studies and came home as a well of deep thoughts and fountain of political insight. 

His musical taste spanned the cultural divides. Hopped a freight train to see Hendrix perform; decades later received a private introduction to Bowie; Satie’s piano to lull the soul to slumber. Specifically, Gymnopedies to wind down the day; he still sang Gene Pitney.  Sidebar: Kenny received a personal invitation from OJ to Nicole’s birthday party back when that was a good thing. 

Yes. Kenny was reserved, progressive, sensitive, sweetly corny. Dependable – He ALWAYS showed up. He had a sense of duty and cared about civility, love and respect. He was a gentle soul with a spirit that soared. Much stirred beneath the quiet surface.

He loved to read and he loved the well-written word, old lit.

He loved life’s little pleasures … wonderment and whimsy … you gotta taste this … look at those puffy clouds … guess who I ran into today … this sweatshirt is so comfortable, it’s my favorite … 

He loved being a family man: He loved Gwen and being a dad. And he was a good son, hands-on and caring. He was a good man. He was a gentle man. A dapper, old-school gentleman … suit and tie, with handkerchief at-the-ready, the mark of a true gentleman. He was thoughtful, with a wonderfully kind nature and pleasant personality. Full of engaging conversation. 

We could talk about anything. And we did. Philosophical wanders on faith and emotions and machinations … the stuff of life.  A brother and sister on the ride of their lives, literally, not figuratively.

I have an internal clock that cues me, I need to talk with Kenny. Our last conversation was the weekend before he passed. I will miss him and our talks forever … our inside jokes … the playful kidding … political banter … our shared memories … our shared bond … Now missing him one … moment … at … a … time ... Forever.  He will forever be a wonderful brother. 

Now I carry him … in my heart. 

Forever, I HAVE three brothers.  There is no past tense. No deduction. No qualifier or caveat. No explanation.

I love you, Kenny. We love you. We will carry you in our hearts and continue to learn lessons from the blessing of having you as our brother.

From the pen of William Wordsworth and from David, Judi, Jeffrey and me … Kenny, this is for you …

What tho’ the radiance that was once so bright

Be now and forever taken from my sight

Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, 

glory in the flower, we will grieve not; 

rather find strength in what remains behind.

Ken Walker: A Righteous Man Remembered

By John Lentz (his friend)

Gwen, Kendolyn, Jason, Jessica and Evan on behalf of Melissa and the kids we extend our love and thanks for the life of your husband and father. It’s an honor to be asked to share remembrances of my friend, mentor and brother in Christ. As I reflect on Ken I want to share with you three stories that I think have helped me understand who he was and provide each of you with an application to go forward with that honors his memory. 

I don’t exactly recall when I met Ken. Surely there are those who have joined us today who knew him longer and more intimately. The time of our friendship spanned the last ten plus years and I think I can pinpoint what galvanized our friendship. We met as members of the Deacon Board and as part of the regular monthly meetings I was one of twelve men to volunteer during the year to give a short presentation about a Christian leader. If memory serves it was a “pillars of the faith” type of presentation and so because Ken and I had begun to talk about contemporary issues in racial reconciliation I asked for his recommendation on three African American icons of the Christian faith so that I could research and ultimately prepare a presentation at our March meeting. From his suggestions I ultimately landed on Benjamin Elijah Mays. I doubt that there are more than a few of us in this room who know who Dr. Benjamin Elijah Mays was but were it not for his instruction in the pulpit and leadership at Morehouse College we may not have seen the complexities in the message and beneficiaries of the life of Dr. Martin Luther King. In her book, My Life with Martin Luther King, Coretta Scott King wrote: 

“My husband's decision to go into the ministry "was largely due to the example of Dr. Benjamin E. Mays.... From first to last, Dr. Mays took a great interest in Martin. It was not so much that he deliberately guided him toward the ministry as that he influenced Martin by his own example. For although Dr. Mays was brilliant, he was not removed from the heart of the people. In the pulpit he talked a great deal about social justice; you might say he preached a social gospel. This conformed exactly with Martin's ideas, and it helped to form them.” 

As I reflect on Ken’s life I am drawn back to a phrase Mrs. King wrote which I think epitomized Ken so well and that is: “he was not removed from the heart of the people.” 

• Ken believed in the concept of a beloved community. 

• His was a prominent heartbeat in this church. 

• His presence in the atrium signified unity. 

• He was drawn to people and they to him. 

• He followed Jesus’ teaching in Mark 12 to love your neighbor as yourself and executed it well 

The first application we can all take from Ken is in your church and in your community at a time when loneliness and division in this country are epidemic be so not removed from the heart of your fellow brother or sister. 

From that point our relationship took on a more personal nature, which involved Ken and I always talking and often meeting about contemporary issues. I followed his lead and he became my mentor on issues of race and social justice especially the healing needed within the Christian church. No area was off limits during our talks and Ken, as many of you know, wasn't shy about offering his opinion. In the midst of our talks Ken opened up about discrimination both large and small; the subtle forces of exclusion that he had seen in the conduct of a Sunday at church and he opened my eyes to the change needed in this church and me. It was through his mentorship that I have become a changed man on understanding how my unconscious biases impact my conscious actions. These conversations that grew me as a man I will miss tremendously. 

The second story is one that intersects justice and fashion. I know; two odd concepts paired together when we remember Ken but stay with me here. For whatever reason Ken was picky about his t-shirts. I mean picky to the point that he would tell me about his search for the right brand and correct fit. To me they are completely interchangeable and I don't think twice about them other than to say to my kids “I need six t-shirts” when they ask me what I want for Christmas. I got the sense that Ken, like many men over the last few centuries, ascribed to the fashion philosophy summed up in four simple words, “Let others dress us.” I mean look, with a sister in the industry and two stylish daughters what’s there to think about, right? But one Saturday, irritated that he couldn't find the exact t-shirts he wanted at Summit Mall, Ken decided he had to drive to the outlets in Lodi to get his beloved t-shirts. Later when I asked him why he did that he remarked, “Because they have a Hanes/Jockey store there” as if it would become his personal mecca for his beloved t-shirts. Now I think you can see where this is going. So Ken drives down to Lodi and they don't have his t-shirts there and he wants justice for his time spent and distance covered with no successful outcome. As he retells this story I ask him a simple question, “Did you call the store to ask them if they had your size/style?” Sheepishly he replied, “No” which leads us to the second application for each of us today, which is, if you ever want to be assured of picking something up, don't forget to call ahead. 

Lastly, Ken was a man who loved his family and loved them well. I don't recall very many times I walked into this church when I didn't see Ken and Gwen together. When we saw each other on Sunday and our time in conversation drew to a close I would ask him the same question. Without fail I asked him this one question and that was, “Where are you taking Gwen to lunch?” It was because he DID take Gwen to lunch. He spent time with her, and he cared for her in such a loving way that exemplified the character of a Godly man. His family was so important to him. This was never more evident to Melissa and me than when we attended an anniversary party for Ken and Gwen at their home. There children, grandchildren, brothers, sisters and extended family surrounded them. It was such a privilege to take part in the celebration of this wonderful marriage among the members of this loving family Ken and Gwen created and nurtured over many years. The Walker family knows how to have fun – how to tell stories and laugh and love each other. These are the kind of people you want to be around. And in a family like the Walkers, you know this love starts from the top and trickles down to every member of the family. Ken’s commitment to his family, in partnership with Gwen, has created a legacy of love that will live on for many years to come. Some of us haven’t the years to think about legacy. Some of us, like myself, are in the process of seeing the torch passed to the next generation. And others like Ken, lived his legacy with the attention to detail in caring for his family and was able to see to the second generation beyond his. In light of Ken’s passing, my prayer for all of us is to consider the legacy we plan on leaving and do more to rise to the example of what it looks like to be a Godly person. 

There is a saying that applies well to the man Ken Walker was: “strong as a rock, soft as a feather”. 

Psalm 112 has comforted me in the days since Ken left us: 

Blessed is the man who fears the Lord, 

who find great delight in his command. His children will be mighty in the land; 

the generation of the upright will be blessed. Wealth and riches are in his house, 

and his righteousness endures forever. Even in darkness light dawns for the upright, 

for the gracious and compassionate and righteous man. Good will come to him who is generous and lends freely, 

who conducts his affairs with justice. Surely he will never be shaken; 

a righteous man will be remembered forever. 

I will miss Ken, as you will as well, and in the midst of our shared sorrow we can take comfort in the fact that on this day our friend, a righteous man, is walking with the Lord he so dearly loved.