Jeffrey Curtis Reis

Jeffrey Curtis Reis, fiercely-loved and fiercely-loving son, brother, husband, father, grandfather, and friend to many, has left this earthly plane and gone to join the realm of the beyond. Held close in the memories of those who knew him, his story rings with laughter, adventure, joy, and struggle.

Born in New Haven, Connecticut on November 24, 1957 to Marilyn and Victor Reis, he was the first of four children, soon joined by brother Sanford, and sisters Nora and Frances. The family found home in Marblehead, Massachusetts, at a tall old house on Bassett Street, where the kids pedaled bikes with banana seats on paper routes and rides to the seaside.

Many friends were made along the way- and enemies vanquished! Jeff was always a committed ally to the underdog and the vulnerable, and this side of his personality was seen from the beginning, defending his younger siblings from bullies and always growing his circle of genius misfit rebels committed to chaotic-good mischief. His 1970s teenhood was full of days spent at Crocker Park, Old Burial Hill, Fort Sewall, and nights whiled away on games and conversation, cosmically intertwining with the like-minded.

By the time the decade ended, Jeff was looking westward, ready to turn the page. He had filled chapters of his life story- who else could say Jim Morrison puked on their mom during a concert?- and was looking out at the horizon for his next Act. He made his way to Doane College in Crete, Nebraska, and met his match in the midwest, marrying Sarah in a backyard ceremony on August 16, 1980. Graduation with a degree in Forestry soon followed, as did fatherhood, with the birth of his first child Victoria in 1982. The family moved to Oregon soon after, where he continued his studies at Oregon State University; his second child Schyler and his Master's degree arrived in 1984 and 1985, respectively.

A move to Boring, Oregon to work for the Inventory Department of the US Forest Service came in 1989, followed shortly by his third and final child, Forest, in 1991- yes, the symmetries were always ringing with synchronicity for Jeffrey. But soon the everyday struggles of early adulthood began to echo with a tinge of mortality; Jeff was diagnosed with Stage 4 Hodgkin's Lymphoma in 1992 and his fight to beat the disease mobilized the whole family.

But he beat it! Oh how he survived, and dove right back into life, building a log cabin with his own hands at the back of the property where he lived out the rest of his years. He made friends with his neighbors- Kathy and Dean, Jim and Susan- took his kids to alt-rock concerts and coached their baseball teams, and was known as the "cool dad" to all of their besties. His capacity for jokes was legendary. The comparisons to Robin Williams came often.

When his cancer returned in 2008, "Jeff's Winning Team" knew what to do, and gathered around him once again. But the cancer- this time in his tongue- was aggressive, and Jeff suffered a series of operations and radiations to keep it at bay. He lost his ability to eat, and to speak easily, but still found many ways to keep himself vital and participatory; continuing to work at the USFS (by this time the Director of Inventory for the entire Western Division); woodworking, cooking opulent meals for others, and riding his motorcycle with his wife for long pleasure cruises out on the backroads.

It wasn't until a massive stroke on Christmas Day in 2014 that the tolls of his precarity began to feel really real. The family leaned in more deeply; Forest and Victoria moved back home; he stopped working. But he sure did keep living, and continued to learn and grow despite it all. He became a rock star in his own right, slapping the bass guitar at over 200 jams at the Rumpus Room and in the studio above his garage. He traded his motorcycle in for a Miata. He loved being a grandfather to young Samimi, born in 2013. They played together. He bought her a trampoline and a violin. And he was so happy to bear witness to Forest's wedding ceremony with Tifany and welcome his daughter-in-law into the family in 2024.

That is to say, his jester's tendency towards joy, challenge, inclusion, and generosity extended outward through the final days of his life, inflected all of his relationships with others near and far, and will resonate beyond his passing. His end, though too early, was gentle, and his brilliant trickster spirit was tenacious even when his body gave out-he even made his hospice nurses laugh. He closed his eyes to this world on March 18, 2024; took his last breath while the westerly sky glowed with orange sunset light.

When you see the sunset dip behind a stand of doug fir trees, think of Jeffrey, and be impish, and be generous, and be brave, and be happy