A Tribute to My Hero – Ronald Francis Voell

I was a starry-eyed girl of four or five when I met my Ron Voell for the first time. Although he was my cousin, he was also old enough to be my dad—he was the oldest and I was the youngest on that side. He cut a striking figure, looking very much like a movie star with his sleek dark hair, penetrating eyes, and perfect smile. Raised in Easton, Pennsylvania, he moved to California after graduating from Penn State. He’d just driven cross-country, and I thrilled at his stories about journeying through the desert where his car ran over tarantulas on the highway. There was another source of fascination for the wide-eyed child, crutches resting against the couch, heavy braces encircling his legs. Those objects invited the deepest admiration in me. My mother had told me when he was just twelve years old, Ron had contracted crippling polio. He’d once said he realized then he wouldn’t be able to make a living with his body so he would develop his mind instead. A local optimist’s club recognized his fighting resolve and awarded him their highest honor.

After graduating from Easton Area High School, class of ’51, Ron enrolled at Penn State as an electrical engineering major. There were no handicap facilities at the time, so the university housed him with the football team with its onsite cafeteria. Some of the players disliked the arrangement but one of them became Ron’s champion. He told my cousin, “If anyone gives you a hard time, you just let me know.” His name was Rosey Grier.

Ron earned his bachelor’s degree, then a master’s from USC, followed by a doctorate from the United States International University. To say he was brilliant is an understatement. He was a “rocket scientist” who worked on the Atlas rocket team that helped put a man on the moon. I was all things NASA in my childhood, and Ron was my hero.

When I was 16, Ron’s mother arranged for me to spend the summer in California in the homes of various West Coast relatives. During the last two weeks of my Golden State sojourn, I lived with Ron, his wife Adele, and their sons Michael, Scott, and Ken at their home in San Diego. I loved being part of a boys-terous household and had a fabulous time which included a trip to the San Diego Zoo, my first classical music concert, and several trips to watch the Padres play. At the time, I was covering the Phillies for my local newspaper, and I got a press pass to interview San Diego players and those from visiting teams. Adele rejoiced with me the night I was summoned to the broadcast booth and spent an inning on the air with announcer Jerry Coleman. At their mountain retreat in Idyllwild, we were awakened after midnight and told we needed to evacuate due to a forest fire. Ron and Adele calmly shepherded us and our belongings into the station wagon. Down a twisting mountain road with fire roaring on either side, Ron instructed us to breathe into shirts dampened with water. He expertly navigated between the inferno in his specially outfitted car with the accelerator and brakes on the steering column.

Two years later, Ron and Adele generously invited me to live with them so I could go to college in San Diego. I decided I didn’t want to be that far from home, that I wasn’t a “California girl,” but I never forgot their generous offer.

Over the years, they came “back east” a few times, the last time in 2000 when my mom hosted a family reunion. A table had been set up for photos and memorabilia, and as we looked at the array Ron said, “I think you should be our family historian.” I was both honored and not a little afraid of taking on such a responsibility. He believed in me, though, and that was enough.

We stayed in close touch, sharing each other’s news through emails, cards, and letters. Ron and Adele loved cruising and visiting ports around the world, and I enjoyed hearing about the places they’d visited and the adventures they’d had.

He told such wonderful stories! I especially love the one about the banquet they went to and how Rosey Grier was the featured speaker. Afterward, Ron took Adele to meet him, hoping to reintroduce himself after the passing of many decades, thinking maybe the celebrated football player and actor might remember him. As the crowd around Rosey thinned the large man looked toward them, and he said, “Ron Voell! How good to see you again!”

When poor health caught up to them, they moved into a facility near their retirement home in Idyllwild. After 54 years together, Adele passed away on July 25, 2020. Ron shared with me how much he longed for her engaging conversation and upbeat presence, how much he loved and missed her. We had many conversations about his sustaining faith in Jesus Christ, in whom Ron put his deepest trust and hope.

Last week on August 7, Ron went to be with the Lord himself. There will be no more engaging emails between us, no more sharing family news and stories or discussions about current events. I will miss him very much, but I’ll hold close to my heart his love and what one of my cousins said of his passing—”He’s now leaping and dancing and praising the Lord.” (Reference to Acts 3:8) What a grand image! No more crutches, braces, or wheelchairs! Simply put, Ronald Francis Voell is free. He is still my hero.