Fund in Memory of Ryan Sherwood

Ryan Matthew Sherwood was born on September 9, 1985 along with his twin brother. Although we did not know it at the time his name was chosen, “Ryan,” in fact means “little king.” This was a perfect name for Ryan because from infancy he determinedly did things his own way on his own time schedule.

Where his brother was considered a “thinker,” Rye was clearly the “dreamer.” He looked at life with an artistic eye and a vivid imagination. Even as a young boy, Ryan always had a great love and respect for all of nature. He would spend hours observing butterflies and other insects. One of his favorite gifts was a set of binoculars and a bird identification book which he cherished. He spent his boyhood days walking through an apple orchard in complete awe of the trees, leaves, blossoms, sounds, smells and creatures around him.

Rye honed his leadership skills during his first few years of life. He was the more dominant twin and accepted the role of protector of his brother. Ryan was the one who would always do things first. Rye was the twin who would introduce himself to strangers and Rye was the one who would convince his brother to say hello as well. At around the age of four, Rye’s brother became very ill. This was a turning point for him. Because his brother was requently sick, Rye spent a lot of time alone. He had to teach himself how to feel comfortable and succeed as a single entity and not as “a unit.” Being a twin, he found this very difficult and I believe it truly affected his self esteem. He became quiet and reflective. The sporadic absence of his brother forced him to become independent at a very early age.

As he grew older, he developed an intelligent, dry sense of humor. He continued to do things at his own pace and rely on his gift of blarney to get him out of responsibilities. He had two younger sisters that he doted on but the connection between he and his brother as well as his father, was strained at times. He was always very close with his mother (a true saint) and his grandmother. As Rye grew older, he maintained strong friendships with many of those around him. He took the time to really get to know people (young and old). He became their confidant and advisor. Everyone relied on his sense of humor to help them get through a bad time. Whatever emotional fulfillment his family was not able to provide – he clearly filled that void with friends. As a teenager, Rye became a volunteer fireman and really enjoyed the camaraderie of the “brotherhood” and the boost to his ego he received by helping others.

After the devastation of Hurricane Katrina, Rye quit college and volunteered to go down to New Orleans to help with the cleanup. When he returned home he was a different person. He had matured and his priorities seemed to shift somewhat. He quit the Fire Dept. and at the age of 21, Ryan moved into a house with two other roommates. He had a full-time job and monthly car payments. He rescued a cat from Katrina and adopted a Pit bull from a shelter.

He made friends wherever he went. He loved his dog, his cars, his paycheck, his friends and his privacy. He was everyone’s “best friend.” He was the world’s greatest hugger. He loved to laugh and would do so often. He called his mother every day....”just to bug you,” he would say. He died much too young.