Harry Ryder, formerly of William Street in Vineyard Haven, died at his home in Lancaster, N.H., on Nov. 21, 2016, at the age of 85. Up in the mountains of Northern New Hampshire, he sang the praises of Martha’s Vineyard most days for more than 30 years.
Harry would go to the dump (not “transfer station”), and hold court; he would go to the library and, after taking slips from all the exotic plants there (“It’s a win-win; they need periodic pruning anyway”), he would sing of the Island.
He brought his family to Martha’s Vineyard in the ’60s, and told his son and daughter, over and over again, that this was a special place, that they should always remember it, that it wasn’t ordinary, that they were blessed to be here.
Harry wouldn’t talk about the typical Vineyard attributes that all the world knows about; he would talk about the midnight walks he took, from his home on William Street down to the boat wharf, down to Beach Road, insomnia providing him an unexpected gift — meeting those who also couldn’t sleep, returning with many more adventurous tales than his dreams would ever give.
He would talk of cold, foggy, Sunday afternoons at Lucy Vincent, gathering driftwood with his wife and kids, using it to create makeshift dwellings complete with chimneys and Sterno campfires, heating hot chocolate, and hoping there were other brave souls venturing out to the beach on those days, who would see the cozy shelters and wonder who the lucky ones were inside.
He talked of the teen gatherings at the Ryder house, laughter abounding, of waking his children up in the middle of the night to walk William Street in the deafening silence of a good Christmas snow.
Starting in the Vineyard school system, then doing whatever possible to keep his family on the Island, Harry paid the price of being a visionary in all things; he was not always understood, nor always easy to work with … but oh, how he loved the Vineyard.
He talked of Island people: the everyday, honest, straightforward, open people, and the creative, outside-the-box people.
His wife Faith, Scott, Debra, Alyson, Ian, Lindsey, and Peter, and Beth, Mark, Heath, Eli, Megan, Harper, and Addison Skye are all resting in the knowledge that they will see him again in glory, and are trying hard to remember whom they represent.