Hearing about the passing of my brother Orlando Rivas saddens me deeply in ways that are difficult to fully express. The news brings with it a flood of memories—moments that once felt ordinary but now carry so much meaning. Orlando was more than a colleague; he was a constant presence, a steady and genuine soul whose impact stretched far beyond the spaces we shared.
Orlando and I first worked together at Ames Middle School, where his heart for the youth was something you didn’t just hear about—you saw it every single day. He had a natural way of connecting with students, especially those who needed guidance the most. He understood that sometimes what young people need isn’t just instruction, but someone who truly sees them, believes in them, and is willing to stand beside them. Orlando was that person.
He didn’t approach his work as just a job; it was a calling. You could tell by the way he spoke to students, by the patience he showed, and by the respect he gave them. He made an effort to meet them where they were, offering encouragement without judgment. Many of those kids may never fully realize just how much his presence meant in their lives, but those of us who watched him work knew he was making a difference.
Later, our paths crossed again when we both became Juvenile Probation Officers. It felt like a natural continuation of what he had already been doing—advocating for young people, guiding them, and helping them find a better path forward. In that role, his compassion stood out even more. He saw beyond mistakes and circumstances, focusing instead on potential and growth. Orlando believed in second chances, and he carried that belief into every interaction.
Some of the most meaningful memories, though, come from the simplest moments. He would walk into my office every morning without fail, heading straight to make himself a cup of coffee ☕️. It became part of the rhythm of the day—something so routine, yet now so deeply missed. Those small interactions, the greetings, the conversations, the shared laughter—they’re the moments that stay with you.
Orlando had a way of bringing a sense of calm and familiarity wherever he went. He didn’t need to demand attention; his presence spoke for itself. He was genuine, consistent, and real—a combination that made people feel comfortable and respected. Whether you were a coworker, a student, or someone he just met, you knew you were in the presence of someone who cared.
His passing leaves a space that cannot be filled. Not just in the workplace, but in the lives of everyone who had the privilege of knowing him. It’s the absence of those daily moments, those quiet acts of kindness, and that steady presence that makes the loss feel so heavy.
As I reflect on Orlando’s life, I’m reminded of the countless lives he touched—many in ways that may never be fully known. His legacy isn’t just in the roles he held, but in the people he helped, the guidance he offered, and the example he set.
Rest easy, Orlando. Your impact lives on in every life you touched, every young person you believed in, and every memory we now hold close.
