Raleigh was bringing in a strong lead. He was coming from Catholic Digest, a national publication. And he was tasked with starting a magazine in the Diocese of Raleigh. It would replace the outgoing newspaper, The North Carolina Catholic.
The magazine’s title would be different, though. It was NC Catholics. That letter “s” had a big job — to signal the magazine’s focus on the faith stories of Catholic people.
Rich Reece could lead that effort in 2006 because he knew people. I don’t mean that in a networking or nepotism way. What I mean is that he could situate his long-wearing green coat on the back of a chair, take a seat and talk to anyone.
Never mind his notebook and camera, interviews probably felt like conversations to his sources because of his easy-going nature. And never mind his red pen on paper when he was my editor from 2012 until 2016. The corrections felt like mentorship because of his understanding and sense of humor.
Richard Jasper Reece died Feb. 17 in California at age 77. Rich was a son, brother, husband, father, friend and grandfather. He’d probably say he was a writer and a reader before he’d concede being an editor. He made homes in Missouri, Connecticut, North Carolina and California, where he moved in 2025.
Born and raised in Minnesota, he was a fan of baseball — the Braves in the National League and the Angels in the American. (Really, anybody but the Astros.) I often wondered how many times his library card had been scanned because there was always a book within arm’s reach and, a few days later, another book. Oftentimes they were narrative nonfiction or theology written by a Benedictine monk or other religious. Once there was a biography of Tennessee Williams, which glimpsed into the world of theater. Rich was always good for imagining what it may have been like to be somewhere in the past, like at the opening of Glass Menagerie in the 1940s. Those kinds of thoughts sparked conversation and details.
He brought that kind of thinking to the magazine. Most stories had possibilities he looked forward to, whether it was about the visuals if the story intersected with art or the message if the story was about a life of deep faith.
What I remember about his magazine columns was that he’d express what he wasn’t sure of as often as he’d share what he knew, saw or heard. He posed questions to readers. Rich took time to learn about Catholics in our area so he could truly share their stories. He would apologize in print if we overlooked something by accident or didn’t give enough credence to a certain aspect of something.
In a 2007 column he wrote about Easter and “the completion of our journeys,” or afterlife. Rich wrote, “I’ve wasted my share of time wondering, as many of you may have, what is heaven like? I have no idea. One thing I’m sure of, though: When I arrive, the first words out of my soul will be ‘Thank You.’”
