'A True Shepherd': Memorial Service Soon For North Fork 'Man Of God'

NORTH FORK, NY — When Dan Reiter, a beloved light at the Community Christian Fellowship in Mattituck, died at 76 in November, he left hearts broken as the many whose lives he touched mourned his unthinkable loss.

Reiter was faced with daunting challenges early in life: Born in Greenport to Helen and Carl Reiter, Dan — who'd loved baseball as a boy and had reportedly been a fine pitcher, according to friends on social media — was hospitalized in critical condition at 13 after he dove off Goose Creek Bridge on Main Bayview Road in Southold, leaving him permanently paralyzed.

The community embraced him from the start, buoying his spirits during his time at the Institute of Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation in New York City — and again when he returned home, confined in a wheelchair, to attend and graduate Southold High School, newspaper reports from the time said.

Now, the community that held him close for an entire lifetime will come together to remember Dan Reiter at a Memorial Service, to be held on Saturday, April 26, at 2 p.m., at the Peconic Recreation Center, located at 970 Peconic Lane in Peconic.

Reiter, according to so many rich memories, never let physical limitations define his soaring spirit. After attending Farmingdale Community College and later, Stony Brook University and Florida State University, he went on to touch change lives as the former administrator of the Suffolk County Mental Health Clinic in Riverhead — and at CCF, where his steadfast faith and infinite love served as a guiding light for the scores who sought his counsel.

He may not have liked to be called "Pastor," many said — he was, by all accounts, a humble man — but he was a spiritual leader whose kindness and insight continues to create a forever bond among the many in the church who carry his memory in their hearts.

His life was blessed by love; many said upon his passing that he was surely reunited with his beloved wife Yvonne, who died in 2014.

Over the months since he died, many have opened their hearts to share precious memories.

"He was one of a kind and so loved and missed," Charlotte Smilovich said. "I can only imagine how happy he is being with our Lord and Savior. He was the most genuine, loving supportive man of God that I've ever known."

She added: "He loved unconditionally. And he made you feel seen, heard and cared for at all times. Life is different without him here, but I know he is rejoicing with our Lord and Savior. And I’m sure his reunion with his wife Yvonne was nothing less than sweet as they both ran into each other’s arms."

Melvarena Stephens was Reiter's in-home caretaker for a full decade. In fact, she said, he died 10 years to the exact date that she'd begun her time with him. "I started on November 26, 2014 and he died on November 26, 2024," she said. "Everything was divined by God."

Reflecting on Reiter, Stephens' voice filled with emotion: "He was the kindest, sweetest man. He was selfless. When you saw Mr. Reiter, you didn't see his disability. You saw a man, a great man, a man of God."

Reiter, she said, embraced life fully. "That man tried to hold onto life just because of us, the people, the members, the brethren in the church. He was fighting to the last, because he had so much love for everyone," she said, her eyes filling with tears.

Stephens shared the profound impact that Reiter had on her life. "I was broken when I came out here. And then, my life started because I was taking care of this magnificent person, who appreciated me, for 10 years. Every night, when I put him to bed, he always gave a blessing. He'd say, 'Good night, God bless you.' Every single night for 10 years."

She added: "He was beautiful and honest. This man, I would put him in the Bible. He prayed for everyone. His life was built on prayer."

His injury did not define him, Stephens said. "He traveled, nothing stopped him."

Before she met Reiter, Stephens said: "People had put me down, made me feel like I was nobody," she said. "I felt that I hadn't been schooled properly. But he looked at me and said, 'Mel, they don’t know what they’re talking about.' He always told me that I was intelligent, the smartest person. And then, I walked with my head up high, because my boss told me that I was valued and intelligent — and I'd never heard those words before." Reiter, she said, told her to always be herself, "Because, he said, 'Mel is perfect.'"

Reiter, she said, was never upset. "He always smiling."

He was a man of deep faith. "As soon as he ate his breakfast, he was in his room, reading his Bible and praying. He spent so much time before the Lord."

Stephens reflected on Reiter's love for his wife. At their wedding, Reiter told Stephens that he'd sung "Great is Thy Faithfulness" to his wife as she was walking down the aisle.

And then, in a gift of love, Stephens played that hymn again and again for Reiter in the last moments before he died. "Even the nurse had tears running down her face," she said

Stephens smiled as she recalled the daily moments that made up the life they shared for the 10 years she cared for him. "He loved Greek coffee. And he loved fish. He loved cooking and so when I was cooking, I got him involved. He had a taste for food; he loved good food."

And, Stephens said, Reiter helped her in the garden. "At this time of year, he would have been ordering all the tomatoes and all the things we grew in the garden," she said. "He'd go in there and talk to the plants, pray with them, saying, 'Please, bear good fruit,'" she said, her voice warm. "He had a love for the water, the beach. We'd go to Bailie Beach, where he'd meditate and pray. He was amazing."

Stephens said her time with Reiter was precious. "I have so many stories," she said. "All of the memories are so special. He was the best boss. I would do it all again."

Reiter, she said, loved people. "He had a love for us beyond imagination and he said he wanted to live for us."

Before he died, Stephens said Reiter's eyes had been closed for three days. "But when he was leaving, in his last breath, he found all his strength and opened his eyes so wide, looking at me. I told him, 'Dan, it's going to be okay. The brethen will take care of me.' He started crying; tears were streaming down his face. And by the time I wiped away the tears, he was gone."

In a tribute to Reiter, another friend wrote on Facebook: "My pastor. You were like a father to me. You counseled me throughout my life. Steered me only in the right direction. I love you so much and can't imagine life here without you. We will miss you greatly."

Emily Dean wrote that she was "blessed to have had both of my babies dedicated by Dan. So grateful someone captured it on video as well. He surely had a way with words."

Carla-Ann Di Liberti also shared her memories: "I moved to Southold. We were searching for a church. Someone recommended Christian Community and we were hooked. I love my little country church. The homey and comfy feeling. The gatherings for lunch that made us feel like it should, a close church family. The coffee and chats —although I was always one of the one lingering in the coffee room to chat — and the sermons. He never liked to be called 'pastor' but he was a true shepherd and a down to earth humble servant of our Lord. He kept us coming and made us feel loved."

Robert and Cathy Church, of Lamp in the Valley Ministries, added: "Dan was such a warm, funny, friendly human being and loved God so very very much. We were truly privileged to get to know him and to have been able to pray and worship with him, call him our friend and even to be his guest for lunch. We only wish we would have taken him up more on his gracious invitation to come by any time. Dan's departure leaves a hole that is ponderous to fill. We look forward to worshipping with him in Heaven! And we are so very grateful to our merciful God to know Dan is healed, free and worshipping at the throne!"

Bruce Ryder said he and "Danny" shared the same birthday. "I had such great times in fellowship with him and his family while in high school."

Pat Hall, a social worker, told Patch that she'd worked with Reiter for 20 years at the Suffolk County Mental Health Clinic in Riverhead. "He was my boss — and he was an incredible person. He took care of everyone."

Reiter was so loved, she said, that many stopped by to bring him food, flowers — eager to share time and conversation. "He always talked to everyone. He knew every patient in that clinic. He was a great guy."

Reiter, she said, knew Hall's entire family and when her parents died, he came to the funeral home ad spoke about them. "What he had to say was incredible," she said.

Reiter, when she first met him, "had this big red van," she said. "Everyone knew 'the man in the van.' He made quite an impression on a lot of people."

Reiter, she said, was imbued with deep empathy and, knowing the full weight of physical limitations firsthand, fought tirelessly for accessibility at Stony Brook and other places. "But he did it very quietly," she said. "He wasn't a person to yell and shout; he just did it in his own way. He was very sweet and kind — and people listened to him."

Knowing Reiter was life-altering, Hall said. "He changed the way I looked at people who need help. I'd always been a kind person, but knowing hm made me do things a little differently."

Reiter was steadfast, a colleague and friend she could always call for guidance, she said.

They stayed in touched long after both had retired, joining other colleagues for annual luncheons and Christmas dinners, she said.

Reflecting on the memories that warm her heart, Hall said: "He loved turnips. My mother used to cut them up for him so he could bring them home for his wife to cook. Food was very important to Dan."

Reiter, she said, also loved Corvettes — and he sang in a band. "He wore a white cape, an Elvis kind of thing."

One time, she said, Reiter told her that Billy Joel was playing right next door.

"We had so much fun with him," Hall said. "He was a good man."

When asked what she missed most about the person who'd changed so many lives, Hall said: "His friendship. Just knowing I could call him and ask him any question."

At work, she said, because of Reiter, "We were like family. He made it like a family. I've worked in other places and it wasn't like that. He treated us all the same, and everybody loved him."

His innate compassion was a hallmark of his kind heart. When her sister, a single mom, had no daycare one day, Reiter told her to bring her 3-year-old to work. "He didn't think twice, he just said, 'Bring him here.'"

And that, she said, was the essence of Reiter's caring soul. "He never turned anyone away."

Walter Ganko, who was close to Reiter at CCF, said he'd known his friend for 40 years. "There was nobody like him," he said. "What a wonderful, wonderful person. Kind, gentle, loving, forgiving, patient and amazing — he was an amazing man."

He added: "God blessed him and blessed us — because when he had his original accident his parents were told he probably wouldn’t live past 40."

That accident lives on in the memories of all who loved Reiter for a lifetime — the North Fork community holds it in their collective hearts. But they also hold tightly to the joyful truth that it did not stop Reiter from savoring his days.

"He led an amazing life," Ganko said. "He persevered. He was tough."

Ganko, too, took note of Reiter's rock-and-roll band, Jacob's Ladder.

At CCF, Ganko said, there are no pastors, per se; instead, the congregation is led by those in elderships. "Dan was more of a shepherd," he said.

When asked what his greatest lessons from Reiter were, Ganko responded: "I think it was two things: having patience with people — and just waiting on the Lord for direction in times of intense decision making. Don’t just jump into it haphazardly, until you feel the peace the Lord puts in your heart. That's what he taught me."

Bill Packard, who also worked with Reiter at the mental clinic — Packard, a psychiatrist, also served as medical director; Reiter was a clinical administrator — said his colleague left a forever impact. "He was warm, friendly, funny — he had a good sense of humor. And he cared a lot about people whom we treated at the clinic —that came through loud and clear. He made sure people in need of help got the help they needed from one of staff members. He didn’t let the bureaucracy get in the way of doing what was right for clients and patients."

After retirement, both stayed in touch at the annual Christmas dinners. "He and I would sometimes go out for lunch, which was always very nice."

As for Reiter's physical challenges, Packard said Reiter lived without limitations. "He was more mobile than most people. He drove a van — it was very important for him to be able to get around."

Of Reiter's greatest legacy, Packard said: "He was very involved with his church, and some people might say that was his legacy — but I think his work as a social worker and clinic administrator was his legacy."

What he misses most about Reiter, Packard said, is his sense of humor. "We always enjoyed getting together, having some laughs — talking about the past."

Others shared their deep sadness at his loss on social media. "He will always be a beautiful soul," Mary Mott wrote.

Added Dean Russell on Facebook: "He was a deeply spiritual, kind and reasonable man. We are so much poorer without him."