by Leslie Lytle, Messenger Staff Writer

Remington Rose-Crossley has lived his life navigating by the three W’s: whimsey, wit, and childlike, insistent wonder. You can hear the pout in his voice when he tells the story about complaining to his second wife on the eve of their marriage, “You get to change your name. Why don’t I get to change mine?” Remington got his wish, leaving behind the name Remington Rose to become Remington Rose-Crossley, adding his wife’s family name to his. Married to an Episcopal priest and with many life-long friends from his student days at Trinity College who were Episcopal priests, Remington says he frequently mused, “When do I get to do that?” The answer: “Don’t bother.” After a decades-long career as a literature professor teaching Shakespeare, the answer changed, and Remington enrolled in the School of Theology at the University of the South. Asked who told him, “Don’t bother,” Remington replied with an ingenuous smile as if bemused by the question, “God.”

Remington embraces life with an irrepressible “But of course, why not” awe. When early in their marriage Ramona decided to pursue the priesthood, Remington left behind his PhD-from-Princeton credentialed career teaching Shakespeare and taught remedial high school English at Chattanooga State Technical Community College, while Ramona attended seminary at the University of the South. After Ramona was ordained, the Rose-Crossleys began investigating employment options appropriate to the career paths their studies had prepared them for. Remington applied for and accepted a position teaching Shakespeare and literature at the University of Guam, and Ramona found a position there as an Episcopal priest. When his family questioned his leaving the United States to teach on a remote island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Remington told them, “I know how to find my way home.”

“Guam was a fascinating place,” Remington said. “Most of the students came from small outlying islands, and Ramona and I did a lot of traveling during the years we lived there. We visited New Zealand, Europe, Japan. We hiked in Tibet. We had wonderful adventures.”

After 12 years in Guam, the Rose-Crossley’s returned to Sewanee so Remington could attend seminary. House shopping and unimpressed with the pretentious stone homes the realtor had shown them, the couple fell in love with the historic Hamilton House. “Buy it, Remington,” Ramona insisted, Remington reminisces. The spacious rooms and handsome staircase enchanted them both, and Remington added a touch of ethereal magic to the charming house. At his request, local painter George Dick transformed the front porch ceiling into a blue sky with fluffy white clouds floating overhead.

Once ordained, Remington was appointed vicar of the Southeastern Tennessee Episcopal Ministry, serving at rural churches in Alto, Gruetli-Laager, and Sherwood. He delivered a service at each of his four churches twice a month, two services each Sunday. For Remington, the itinerant ministry was yet another adventure. “I met wonderful people. They were open to me. They hadn’t had a regular priest in some time. I was theirs.”

Ramona died a year and a half ago. Living alone has been hard for Remington, a difficulty alleviated by long visits from his children. “I’m moving at the end of the month,” Remington acknowledged a little sadly. “That’s what it says on my calendar. It must be true.” His new home, an assisted living apartment in Austin, Texas, has two balconies and is just a 10-minute walk from the home of one his daughters, but Remington has reservations. “Moving is a huge job. There are 711 decisions and all of them involve work. My children tell me don’t fuss about the details, but that’s what I do. It’s what I’ve always done, taken care of other people’s lives. There are 37 little things on my desk I want to take with me. Part of me wants not to leave. Ramona and I were so happy here. But she’s not here.”

Remington’s friends have planned a goodbye party. “Why?” Remington asks, a little baffled by all the attention. “Remington is a lovely, gentle soul,” said his friend Anne Griffin, supplying the answer. “This is a first for me, what it feels like living alone and planning to live alone,” Remington confessed. “I suppose if I get lonely, I’ll just have to knock on the door of one the apartments below me and say, ‘You have to be nice to me for a while.’”

In parting, when a recent visitor told him, “Have a lovely rest of the day,” Remington replied, as if pleasantly surprised by the quaint advice, “I’ll do my best.” What is certain is that Remington Rose-Crossley will bestow upon the day his special gift for wonder and awe and Remington will be rewarded with wonder and awe in return.