James Wright Passes Away

    James R. Wright was born in Jackson, Michigan on March 3, 1931, to mother, Margaret Allen and father, Leo Baughman. James was named Edwin Dale Allen at birth but was adopted on April 4, 1931 by Jesse Mae Ransom, born in Ohio and James Madell Wright, born in Tennessee. His birth mother died July 5, 1951 and was buried at Hillcrest Cemetery. His adoptive father was in the Navy during World War I and buried in Arlington National Cemetery. James R. Wright died of pneumonia at the age of 88, on September 21, 2019, in San Diego, with his son, Russell, by his side. He will be buried at a future date at Arlington National Cemetery with a life celebration to follow. 
    During his youth, the family spent time in Hillside, Md. where James enjoyed visiting the White House to pet President Roosevelt's Scottish Terrier through the fence. In 1951, he married Rose Giove in Washington, D.C. He joined the Air Force, moved to Texas, and lived off base while serving country and bride. He graduated from American University and raised his family in Davidsonville, Md. He worked at Nationwide as a Claims Adjuster and retired in 1983 from the Government Printing Office as Safety Officer. He worked weekends taking out stumps and hosting friends with pig roasts and pool parties. He was a member of the Knights of Pythias, Elks Club, American Legion, proud veteran and an accomplished member of the 32nd, Freemason and Shriner. He lived in Bradenton and Venice, Florida, where he resided happily and comfortably for longer than the years he worked. 
    He is survived by his loving companion, Mary Wildes, his son, Russell A. Wright, and daughter in law, Yuko, of San Diego, daughter, Melanie A. Wright, of Edgewater, two grandsons, James M. Wright, Zachary T. Bennett and mother and grandmother, Rose Giove, from Westminster. 
    He savored life as father, grandpa and friend. He was a pilot, diver, gourmet and RV enthusiast, traveler and Forbes disciple. He was best of brain and brawn, an economist and life of the party. He enjoyed working hard and fixing things. He was gruff and grime and knew every inch of his land. Summer evenings were spent socially, like clockwork,with cocktails by the pool, neighbors, horses and dogs. My brother and I got the best of him for 88 years. His devotion was rock solid. He was old school swagger, magnet and flare, told a mean joke and always prepared. For decades, he listened with affection and a lopsided grin. Whether on the phone or in person, his parting words were, "Remember, I love you."