Room for Everyone

Anyone that knows my dad, knows that he loved everyone equally, with no judgment or discrimination.  He taught us to look outside packaging and circumstance and to accept people as they are just as Jesus would want us to.  He gave everyone a chance and never asked for anything in return.


I can only hope that my heart can one day love as unconditionally and indiscriminately as my dad's.

We hope that everyone my dad knew would feel welcome to attend his service and be a part of the large community of people who's lives my dad touched.

Richard Fragosa's Memorial Service Fund

We have received an outpouring of love and help in so many ways and we appreciate all of it.  It's these well wishes and love that make the days more bearable.


A few of you have expressed interest in helping with a contribution to my dad's service.  We've set up a PayPal account where you can send donations if you feel so inclined.


We're still working on the memorial service but we will keep everyone updated as soon as everything is finalized.

Memories to Inspire and Refresh

In a devotional from Joni Eareckson Tada, she writes,

Warm and lovely memories have a way of helping you live life better in the present…Pick out a memory and savor the sweetness…Lord, please bring to mind encouraging and uplifting memories that help me see Your hand at work in my life over the years.  I praise You today for thoughts that inspire and refresh.

In the days since my dad’s passing we’ve received an outpouring of inspiring and refreshing memories from friends and loved ones.  Our former pastor, Dr. Gary Rieben, sent this note to my mom:

In fourteen years of working together, Richard and I never had one moment of disagreement. I count that to his servant attitude rather than to anything in me. He was a model of what a pastor and church needs: faithful, diligent, caring, with a deep love for Jesus.

He has now received his crown for faithfulness to the Lord.

If I can be of any help or comfort please let me know.

I remain a friend and brother although an ex-pastor. May Jesus Himself come to you with his heart sustaining grace during this painful time.

Gary Rieben

Thank you Pastor Gary, and thank you to everyone for the good memories that remind us of our dad’s big heart.

GeoBigDog's Final Cache

As many of you know one of my dad's favorite hobbies was Geocaching.  He often made time to hop into his big, red truck and head to the mountains or around town in search of tiny treasures and to plant his own.  I remember the first time he took me to find a cache.  I had no idea what he was looking for or why.  When he finally pulled a small rock from a rose planter in Loreto Plaza I thought, "THAT'S what we spent 40 minutes looking for?!"  His eyes grew to the size of silver dollars as he gingerly pulled the rock apart to reveal a secret compartment that held a small strip of paper.  I laughed as my dad attempted to scribble his name onto the tiny strip using a golf pencil and fingers the size of Italian sausages.


When the Tea Fire ravaged the Montecito hills and parts of Westmont College, the first thing my dad did was to call me to see if his cache was OK. Sadly, it perished in the fire.


Despite my lack of patience for Geocaching, he had a regular crew of family and friends that would regularly go with him on excursions and got to discover places that would become my dad's favorite spots around town.  Two of his good caching friends, Alan and Rene Salter, sent this message to my mom yesterday, "We are geocaching on East Camino Cielo with several others and we put out a cache overlooking SB and the harbor in honor of GBD."  Thank you Alan and Rene!

Goodbye, Superman

If I made a list of things that could never happen, sitting in my parents living room, hearing the paramedics tell us that they've tried unsuccessfully for over ten minutes to get my dad breathing again and that bringing him to the hospital would be futile would be number one on that list.  My dad was my hero.  He was bigger than Superman and stronger than the Hulk; completely invincible.  Despite all of his health problems and hospital visits he always seemed to bounce back bigger and better than before.  His amazingly positive attitude was unshakable.  My dad never let anything bring him down and I often turned to him to draw from his joy.

Losing my dad has been the greatest loss I’ve ever experienced in my life.  The moment he was gone, a cord between us was severed that I never knew existed.  This cord ran deep and in the short time that has passed, I find myself daily grasping for some semblance of it to re-attach to my heart. I long for the day when the struggle isn’t so desperate. 

As we grieve together, I treasure the moments that I’m reminded of the small details, his personality, and his love.  On the afternoon of his passing, close friends and family came together at his home.  The day was long and we were all tired, but no one could bring themselves to leave.  We all wanted to be where he lived and loved.  We were supposed to celebrate his granddaughter Kemara’s sixteenth birthday in Ojai.  Instead, we celebrated his life as if he were still right there with us; Martha brought over burgers and her famous macaroni salad, Rich barbecued, Sue chopped veggies, etc.  It was just what he wanted. 

We sat and reminisced about the man we loved the most.  With every new story, I learned something new about my dad; how he daily kept $7 in his pocket for anyone who asked, how he regularly manned the Information Booth on Sunday mornings at Living Faith Center, how he cleaned my brother and sister’s childhood room by opening the window and throwing everything into the backyard.  A better time of solace couldn’t have been planned.