My Brother Richmond's New Book

To honor Richmond after his death, our family finished having his new book Frozen Ghost published. He had turned in his final draft to the self-publishing company, so we picked up the ball. I wrote a foreword for his book and approved the final drafting stages.

It is now available for purchase online. Here is a link to it on Amazon. You may also find it on Barnes and Noble here.

Below is the foreward I wrote for his book. May it honor him, and may he rest in peace.

Foreward

When I read Richmond’s first book, The Deviants, I was sure it was the wildest thing I had ever seen. Yet his subsequent books, Your Yesterday Is My Tomorrow and Witch Hunt, never failed to take me on voyages through unconventional waters. His writing is gripping, if out of the ordinary.

Even as his fourth book, Frozen Ghost, was in the process of publication, Richmond’s life ended too early. He died suddenly of a heart attack after spending the day with family touring the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, informally known as the “Lynching Memorial,” in Montgomery, Alabama. On his very last day, he was longing for justice, something that was deeply important to him.

My father, my other brothers, and I decided to honor his life and memory by following through with his plans to have this book published. It is with bittersweet joy that we share it with you.

I could tell you about Richmond’s relentless love for God, for Christian theology, for world religions, for philosophy, for social justice, and for the Church. I could tell you about his amazing academic accomplishments. But what I really want to tell you is this. He had a brilliant and beautiful mind.

I sometimes say he could waltz into a room and teach a course in world religions that would knock your socks off, but he might not be able to find his own socks. The unfolding of his beautiful mind started when he was teaching and involved in his first doctoral program, before mom died eighteen years ago. I say that not to call attention to his suffering. I say that because more than anyone I know, he was an overcomer. This is what inspires me the most about his life.

No matter what the obstacles, he was eternally fascinated with theology and philosophy and loved to find hints of it in movies and fiction. He refused to stop creating. He finished a Ph.D. at Purdue in philosophy and literature, and this was his proudest moment. He simply loved to write.

I once told him that his writing “defied genre.” He took that as a huge compliment, which it was meant to be, and then used that phrase on the back cover of a subsequent book. The threads he could weave between philosophy, comics, vivid memories, fantasy novels, painful past experiences, science fiction, and theology gave me insight into the beauty of his mind. Writing was his way of making sense of things, of finding peace, and of blessing the world.

As I read this book, I mused on his story of the broken mirror, and Richmond saying, “I just looked at it and it broke!” I know that really happened, for I was the brother who teased him about it for years. I pondered the technical term “audio pareidolia” he mentioned, clearly a symptom of his condition which he had become educated about. I vividly remembered conversations we had about the voice of Diana, who was speaking to him from across the stars. As always, I found reminders of the intricate way he wove various threads of his life together through writing. It is truly a tapestry.

I have learned more from my brother Richmond than anyone I have ever known about courage, determination, and relentless creativity. I’m delighted that after that long mental, intellectual, and philosophical journey of his beautiful mind, he had unwavering faith. In recent years, he loved going to church and being involved in teaching Sunday School, singing in the choir, and ministries of addiction recovery.

He died too early. But my heart is full of gratitude that he died happy, stable, creative, and excited about this book.

Richmond would have been thrilled to know that at his funeral, I would close my brief remarks with the famous quote from Captain Kirk at the funeral of his dear, Vulcan friend Spock. “Of all the souls I have encountered in my travels, his was the most … human.”

And it was.

Stephen Pierce West

Brother of Richmond Pierce West

August 2021

Remembrances of Richmond Pierce West

These are the brief remembrances I shared at the funeral service of my dear brother, Rich, on August 12, 2021.

On behalf of my family, thank you all so much for your love and support. We feel your prayers. They are holding us fast.

The Wests boys were two sets of brothers, and he and I were the younger set. I could tell you about the childhood shenanigans of “Stephen and Richey.” I could tell you about singing “Johnny’s Gettin’ Nothin’ for Christmas” every year (complete with at least 17 verses). I could tell you how often he reminded me about the time he pushed me over the lawn mower. I could tell you about the time he told mom I was eating all the marshmallows (after he ate his half). I could tell you how many times I heard the phrase, “Mom! Stephen’s aggrivatin’ me!” I could tell you about the family video of him imitating Howard Cosell with Andy. He was goofy, he was funny, we called each other punk.

I could also tell you about his relentless love for God, for theology, for social justice, and for the Church. I could tell you about how much he loved Camp Sumatanga. I could tell you about his amazing academic accomplishments. But what I really want to tell you is this. He had a brilliant and beautiful mind.

I sometimes say he could walk into a room and teach a course in world religions that could knock your socks off, but he might not be able to find his own socks. Today, I want you to know this inspires me the most about his life.

The unfolding of his beautiful mind started when he was teaching and involved in his first doctoral program before mom died 18 years ago. I say that not to call attention to his suffering, oh no. I say that because more than anyone I know, he was an overcomer.

No matter what the obstacles, he was eternally fascinated with theology and philosophy. He refused to stop creating. He finished a Ph.D., which was his proudest moment. He self-published 3 books and some graphic novels. He was excited about the new book of ghost stories he had found a publisher for.

I once told him his writing “defied genre” (he took that as a huge compliment, which it was). The threads he could weave between philosophy, comics, memories, painful experiences, science fiction, and theology gave me insight into the beauty of his mind. Writing was his way of making sense of things, of finding peace, and of blessing the world.

I have learned more from my brother than anyone I have ever known about courage, determination, and relentless creativity. And I love the way that after that whole intellectual journey, he had unwavering faith in Christ. In recent years, he just loved going to church and being involved in teaching Sunday School, singing in the choir, and ministries of addiction recovery.

I also want to say one more thing that’s really important. Watching Dad and Richmond work out a mutually supportive living arrangement in the years after mom died was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen in my life. It wasn’t always easy, but the greatest gift of God we have is each other.

He died too early, and that was a total surprise. But my heart is full of gratitude that he died happy, stable, creative, and excited. And in all things, he had unshakable hope in Christ Jesus, our Lord. That’s what I want to celebrate with you today.

Richmond would have been thrilled to know that at his funeral, I would close my brief remarks with the famous quote from Captain Kirk at the funeral of his dear, Vulcan friend Spock. “Of all the souls I have encountered in my travels, his was the most … human.”

And it was. Rest in the peace of Christ, Richmond. Amen.