Some of us are lucky enough to have mentors, teachers, and heroes who are critical in our development and mold who or what we become as adults. And when we lose them, we will continue to lead by their example.
On March 7, 2024, I lost my father, Francis Xavier Reilly. He was a 97-year-old World War II veteran and a Wilmington, Delaware native. He grew up in a row home, the fifth of eight children and the son of a Delaware State Senator.
In 1943, he left H. Fletcher Brown Vocational High School to join the Navy. My father was only 17 years old, but he lied about his age and was deployed on the USS J. Fred Talbott Navy destroyer. The rest of his life would hinge on that moment–the whiplash from high school to hunting German submarines in the Atlantic.
Upon returning home, he entered the U.S. Postal Service. It was a welcome change of pace for him, and he would meet my mother, Kay Vandenbraak, at a Pontiac Dealership where he served mail six days a week. My mother and father married in 1950, and one year later, I was born.
With the help of his father, Jack, he built a new home for our family. Their four hands built everything from the basement to the roofing on the second floor. The plot of land was a wedding gift from my mother’s favorite Uncle Jim.
This was the beginning of a new American era, with unprecedented peace and collaboration. My father was not the only young man who returned from the war looking to enrich himself and the country he fought for.
The suburban neighborhood was alive with the sound of hammers and saws. Mostly WWII vets themselves, they were glad to be home, and more importantly, alive to see their families. Construction was therapy, it helped them work through the horrors of war that still hung in their past. Building new homes for their families was the perfect counter to the destruction that they had witnessed.
“Kev, you will never see that kind of selfless camaraderie again!” my father would tell me.
“Everybody helped each other. Whatever you needed– Manpower for lifting 2×4 stud walls, or expertise in bricklaying or roofing.”
Delawareans will be familiar with Van’s Liquors, across the street from St. Mary Magdalen Parish on Concord Pike. Well, then they would know the legacy of my father’s next venture.
He and Bill Vandenbraak, my uncle, had no experience in retail sales, let alone running a liquor store. Bill put up the money, and my father put in 60 hours a week until Van’s Liquors was the #1 liquor store in Delaware.
Now, Francis Xavier Reilly never saw his junior or senior year of high school, but he was already a far better businessman and investor than most men could ever claim to be.
This was the first lesson from my father. At 16, his “can do” attitude inspired me to cut to the chase and aim straight for the NFL. My NFL teammates would say, “Riles, he gave you the juice,” meaning he gave me the desire to compete.
My father was my biggest fan, and I took his guidance into his 90s. He would say either, “You can do this!” or “That’s a recipe for disaster.” And nine times out of 10, he was right.
I had to ‘retire’ from the NFL early due to my rare and largely unknown disease, a Desmoid tumor. We still lived in Wilmington, Delaware at the time, but the only hospital with a knowledgeable doctor was Sloan Kettering in New York. My father made every drive back down to Wilmington–with a clean bill of health–a celebration, with three beers and two hoagies.
Desmoid took my left arm, left shoulder, and four ribs. But I am forever grateful that it did not take my life. If I was hopelessly distraught, then my father was thankful for me. He knew how to appreciate life and if he hadn’t, then he would not have been able to return home from WWII and build the house that raised six children. What’s more, that legacy would continue to grow into 18 grandchildren, 31 great-grandchildren, and more to come.
My father now joins my mother who passed away on February 4, 2023, and the outpouring of condolences that our family has witnessed these last few weeks has been tremendous.
As a thank you to everyone, and as a reminder to love the life you have, I will leave you with the five keys to life that my parents gave to me: (1) family first, (2) pray often, (3) be kind, (4) work hard, (5) help others. Their Catholic values were at the center of everything they did, and they embodied the following wisdom from St. Francis de Sales, “Be who you are and be that well.”
Lastly, I need you all to remember that the only thing we take with us when we die is what we give to others. Cardinal George of Chicago said this on his deathbed, and I live its truth every day.
