Gilead House founder Reba Harris dead at 83
The Gilead House and Reba Harris.
It’s difficult to say one without mentioning the other.
One is a live-in addiction rehabilitation facility for women near downtown Kokomo.
The other is its faithful founder, described by those who knew her as an “angel on Earth,” a “pioneer in the community” and a woman who “displayed intentional and tenderhearted care.”
So perhaps that’s what made this week’s news hard to bear, those same people said.
Harris died this week due to medical complications while on vacation with her family in Romania.
She was 83 years old.
The Tribune reached out across the community Tuesday for comments relating to Harris’ death, her life and her legacy.
It didn’t take very long to find someone touched by Harris.
Her legacy is everywhere, they said.
‘SHE LED WITH LOVE’
“Where would the Gilead House be without Reba Harris?”
That was the question posed Tuesday to Lonnie Anderson, pastor of Mt. Pisgah Missionary Baptist Church, Harris’ church home for the past several years.
“It’s not just the Gilead House or the women there,” he said. “The question is ‘Where would the community be?’ She loved Kokomo, and she loved Howard County. She often told me that Gilead House was a call, and she answered it. She led with love.”
Anderson then took several minutes during a phone call with the Tribune on Tuesday afternoon to prove his point.
“She was tough,” he said, “but in her toughness was love. There was always compassion and love. … She was also an advocate for those who society had looked over and looked past and a champion for those who did not have a voice and those who the community had thrown away. She saw value in every life.
“She saw possibility in every soul she touched,” Anderson added. “She was a voice, a bold voice at that, for those who could not speak for themselves. She’s going to be missed, and I don’t think this community really understands what we had in sister Reba Harris.”
Harris was also a woman of faith, Anderson noted, citing Harris’ belief in empowering women through the programs at the Gilead House.
“She dared to do what others would not do,” Anderson said. “She heard the voice of God. She stepped out on that fanatical faith, and she allowed God to help her transform thousands of lives from the inside out.”
Kokomo Mayor Tyler Moore agreed with Anderson, adding he was in “utter shock and disbelief” when he heard the news of Harris’ death.
“The impact that Reba has had on so many lives and so many organizations, especially the Gilead House, for decades now, will last long past her untimely passing,” he said. “She was a friend to so many and a surrogate mother to countless women who needed her love and affection and guidance more than anything.”
Susan Maxson is the interim director of Gilead House.
Sitting in her office Tuesday afternoon, the one Harris occupied for so many years, Maxson said she’s proud of the legacy Harris has left behind.
“I am crushed, and I’m heartbroken,” she said, “but I also know that Reba would not want us to break stride here at Gilead House. So I am feeling very determined to make sure that our women remain on task with their addiction recovery and the programs here.”
Maxson said the Gilead House residents and staff found out about Harris’ death Tuesday morning, and they were able to lean on each other when they heard the news.
Because that’s what Harris would have wanted, Maxson said.
Because that’s what families do.
“She was the bedrock of the Gilead House,” Maxson told the Tribune, “and she left quite a legacy. There are women all over this country who are living better lives because Reba was there for them.”
And when news broke on Tuesday of Harris’ death, many of those same women — through their grief — were able to come together to share and celebrate the memories of the woman they called “Miss Reba.”
‘SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL’
Sitting at the conference table that overlooks a wall of windows and Sycamore Street, Gilead House resident Christa Gassman wiped the tears from her eyes as she remembered the first day she walked into the Gilead House.
“I was a foul mouth with a bad attitude,” Gassman said.
But then she met “Miss Reba.”
“She saved my life,” Gassman noted, referring to Harris. “Her soul emanated. She was the heart of Kokomo. Just the way she carried herself and who she was. It made you want to be a better person. It made you want to be noticed by her. She was beautiful.”
Sitting a couple feet away, fellow resident Rayne Barber agreed with Gassman, adding the countless women who walked through the Gilead House doors over the years were not strangers to Harris.
They were family.
They were “her” girls.
“She saw us as God sees us,” Barber told the Tribune, “and she made us see ourselves that way too.”
And while the women who have met Harris through the Gilead House said they have their own stories of how Harris helped save them, resident Mindy Hoffman said she’s not sure where she’d be if Harris hadn’t “taken a chance” on her earlier this year.
“Miss Reba herself approved me to come here,” she said smiling, “and apparently that’s the only pull the judge needed.”
Hoffman said she didn’t know Harris as long as some of the other Gilead House residents, but she added it didn’t matter.
If you knew Harris for a day, you were blessed, she said.
“Her love was abundant,” Hoffman told the Tribune. “Her well didn’t have a bottom. It didn’t matter what you needed. She was going to fill you up. She was love. She was just love.
“She will never be forgotten either,” she added. “Every one of us that walks out of these doors, she will walk on with us forever. We will not let her down. We’ll take her everywhere we go.”