The Passing of a Great Man: My Grandfather
By Ginger Jennings, Staff Writer
The
journey began on March 28, 1924 when my grandfather Dr. Raymond P. Jennings was born. My grandfather has played a big role
in my life. While I lived in Germany for six years I would visit him in California about twice a year, every year.
My dad and I moved here to live closer to his side of the family. My mom and sister followed a year later and lived with
us.
Ever since I moved to California I’ve been spending time with my grandfather. He got along with everyone and opened
many people’s eyes to the real meaning of things.
Ray was born in St. Louis, Missouri. He attended Maplewood High School and followed with college at William Jewel. There
he met his future wife, Irene Payne, in 1943, which led to 61 years of marriage. Ray held advanced degrees from the Divinity
School of Yale University, the American Baptist Seminary of the West, and the Central Baptist Theological Seminary.
Ray was an American Baptist Minister-at-large. He served as a pastor for 22 years. Watching him stand in front of a church
congregation every Sunday made me respect him so much and made him seem so accomplished to me. After church my grandparents
would always come over for lunch just to spend time and talk. My grandfather always had something meaningful to say every
time he spoke.
He was also on the board of directors for the Seafarers Ministry of the Golden Gate. My grandfather had a place fixed up
for the seafarers when they would return from long months out at sea.
One morning a couple months ago there was an award ceremony and breakfast at the residence for him.
My grandfather was also a journalist, reporter and analyst for the American Baptist magazine. He was also an author of
numerous articles and books. He was a father to four adult children, over 10 grandchildren and more than two great-grand children.
His work took him to many parts of the world including Asia, Africa, Europe and Central and South America.
Later on in his life he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. When I first heard this I didn’t know how to react.
It wasn’t just a simple friendship I had with him. We were really close; he was always around. I knew right then and
there things would change. Slowly church wasn’t on Sundays anymore, and our Sunday lunches became nonexistent.
On April 4, 2006, I felt my grandfather truly fulfilled the meaning of the saying “live life to its fullest”
when he passed away before my eyes.
