Richard Paul Pride

Hi, I'm Rich...in name only. While it was his favorite introduction line, it couldn't be farther from the truth. Richard Paul Pride, 82, of New Berlin, passed away peacefully on Sunday, March 23, surrounded by life's true riches: Family and friends who loved him. He left with a clear mind and a joyful heart, likening his journey to a train ride. While he was sad to leave friends and family behind, he was excited to see those loved ones waiting for him. Those on the train platform include his wife, Mary Pride of New Berlin, his sister, Patricia Warner, Sayner, his former wife, Jean Pride of Menomonee Falls, his children Patrick (Kathy) Pride of Mukwonago, Pam Pride of Kewaunee, Jeff (Linda) Pride of Menomonee Falls, Joani Pride of New Berlin, Jackie (Marc Sopher) Pride of Escanaba, Mich., 13 grandchildren, 11 great grandchildren and nieces and nephews. Waiting for him on the other side include his parents, Charles and Eve, his brother, Russell, his brother-in-law, Herb Warner, his daughter, Julie, his son-in-law, Don Zellner, his niece, Barb Warner, his nephew, Ken Warner, aunts, uncles, cousins, Bill W. and many close friends. Born in Eagle River, Wis., Richard retired afte...[more]

View Full Online Obituary and Tributes

pending a successful career as a union representative and meat cutter for the United Food and Commercial Workers. He had a generous heart, and would want memorials sent to the Salvation Army in Waukesha or the National Kidney Foundation of Wisconsin. He perfected the art of telling stories, jokes and poems, leaving a wake of smiling faces. His parting request: Don't make this morbid. He'll join us in spirit on Saturday, March 29, 2014, at Krause Funeral Home, 12401 West National Avenue, New Berlin, with visitation from 11:00 AM - 1:45 PM, and service at 2:00 PM, where he would likely recite one of his favorite poems, just to leave people smiling: "The Cremation of Sam McGee" By Robert W. Service (exerpt) There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee. I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear; But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near; I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside. I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; . . . then the door I opened wide. And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar; And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: "Please close that door. It's fine in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm -- Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."