Tribute to Dwight Emmanuel Roth 1945-2025

Dwight Emmanuel Roth died peacefully in his sleep on December 29 in the presence of his loving wife, Lynette. 

I have been friends with Dwight for nearly 50 years. Although we grew up within six miles of each other, a county border divided us and we went to different public high schools.

I first met Dwight at a faculty retreat in the fall of 1976 for instructors of Hesston College at a retreat just west of Wichita, Kansas. He always dressed quite distinctly, and the retreat was no exception. I was not impressed. I decided immediately that I would stay as far away from this "clown" as I could. We were both single, and he was clustered around most of the single faculty. Little did I know that I would eventually room with him for some four years and we would become inseparable.

Dwight and I in 2016 in Reading, PA

My first impression was dramatically changed when he invited me to join him for dinner at the local restaurant, the Colonial House. I don't remember my feelings about accepting the dinner reservation, but we became so engrossed in our conversation that the time flew by, and we had to be advised by the management of the restaurant that they were closing and that we had to leave. We had spent three and a half hours together. This was "kairos" time.

We had an enormous amount of things in common. It started with our mutual love for the Phillies, a professional baseball team from Philadelphia. Those years were filled with playoff runs, culminating with their appearance for the first time in the World Series in 1980. It continued with our experiences in Voluntary Service as conscientious objectors during the Vietnam War; he in Washington, DC, and I in Honduras. We agreed on the injustice of our world.

Another commonality between us was his knowing my grand uncle Rueben Clymer, who lived just up the road from his boyhood home. After Dwight lost his father at age eight, uncle Rueben looked out for Dwight's family who was struggling financially and emotionally.

In 1980, both of us got married. I fell in love with a woman from Switzerland, and he with a more local woman from from Hillsboro. I stood with him at his wedding, then left for a year to pursue my own romance. Esther and I got married and settled in Switzerland for a year. Later during my year in Switzerland, Dwight and his new bride visited, and we took a camping trip together from Amsterdam, through Germany and ended up in Switzerland. I could tell many interesting tales about this time together, and Dwight and I would recount these moments together in ensuing years to much laughter. 

I always knew that Dwight had a spiritual depth beyond most people, but it was only after I experienced a mid-life crisis, that we explored these depths together. We explored the depth psychology of Carl Jung, and found much to converse about. My crisis led me on a sojourn to Eastern Mennonite University and then for a three-year term with Mennonite Central Committee in Mexico. Throughout that time, Dwight and I corresponded by mail. A few years ago, when Dwight was downsizing, he sent me all the letters he had received from me from Mexico. How delightful it was to recall the discussions we shared together in that correspondence. We shared dreams and their Jungian meanings.

I returned to Hesston after Mexico and our friendship picked right up. We had offices side-by-side in two different buildings. We continued and deepened our friendship. Dwight would recount to me out-of-the-world experiences that he had had, and I shared with him some of mine. Eventually I wrote a book about spirituality with my sister, developing concepts that Dwight and I had discussed.

Dwight showing both conventional
and unorthodox clothing at a graduation

As a sociologist, Dwight always felt guilty for his lack of international experience in comparison to my many years overseas. Yet over the years he befriended more international students and other marginalized people than any other individual I know. I had to remind him that he didn’t need to go overseas to understand cross-cultural dynamics. He was Jesus to many students who passed through this often exclusive, homogeneous town in central Kansas. 

On one occasion Dwight attended a gathering of students and faculty consisting of mostly Spanish speakers; he being the exception. Always a keen observer, he told me: "You have an entirely different personality when you speak Spanish." This was a new concept for me, and made me reflect on language learning at a new depth.

Since leaving Kansas to move east to be closer to family, Dwight and I have kept in contact by calling each other at least every other month. I was saddened by what transpired after his diagnosis of Parkinson's. I followed his moves and his program of exercise in combating the disease. During the month leading up to his death, I had him on my mind and wanted to call him once again. I failed to do so. Therefore, his death shocked me. I had no idea he was approaching his last days. My only comfort, even though I am crying in grief as I write this, is knowing that Dwight, who knew realities beyond the physical realm better than most people, had entered into that reality in peace. He loved his middle name Emmanuel, because it means "God with us." Now Dwight is with God. RIP brother Dwight.