The Reverend H. Kris Ronnow died Friday, Oct. 25, from complications of Parkinson’s disease. He was 87.
A devoted husband, loving father and grandfather, Kris dedicated his life to the fight for social and economic justice. As a community organizer on Chicago’s West Side in the 1960s, architect of Oak Park, IL’s blueprint for racial justice and diversity in the 1970s, and a leader in corporate reinvestment and philanthropic efforts in Chicago’s neighborhoods, he sought community-led solutions to complex problems.
Kris was “that rare combination of ordained clergy who lived his ministry within secular institutions” with a “prophetic sense of care and concern for all persons” friend and colleague Rev. David Bebb Jones said, The grandson of Danish immigrants, Henry Kristian Frederick Ronnow was born on July 4, 1937, in St. Paul, MN.
His father Henry was abrick mason, a strong union guy. Mom Gladys was a homemaker. He had two older sisters, Joan and Nancy Kris attended St. Paul public schools, graduating from Central High School in 1955. Hewas an active member of St. Paul’s YMCA and De Molay, sang in the church choir and played (not well) the trumpet. The first in his family to earn a college degree, he majored in economics and graduated from Macalester College in 1959. That fall, he began graduate studies at both McCormick Theological Seminary and the University of Illinois in Chicago.
He married Constance Cory Youngberg on May 28, 1960, at House of Hope Church in St. Paul. Daughter Karin was born in 1962, at the Chicago hospital where Connie was a nurse, followed by Heather in 1963, and Erika in 1967.
Inspired by his professor and friend Saul Alinsky, Kris did his graduate-level field work in some of Chicago’s poorest neighborhoods. In 1963, he completed master’s degrees in divinity and social work. He was a community organizer for the Church Federation of Greater Chicago (1963-1966) and executive director of the Interreligious Council of Urban Affairs (1966-1969), before joining the Presbyterian Church USA’s Board of National Missions in New York (1969- 1972). Back in the Midwest, he was director of Oak Park’s then-new Community Relations Department (1972-1977), vice president of public affairs at Harris Trust and Savings Bank of Chicago (1977-1988); and back to McCormick as vice president for finance and operations (1988- 1996). He retired in 1996.
Kris spoke truth to power. He demanded accountability. He could be very persuasive. At a high school reunion in 1965, the principal pulled Kris aside. “What on earth are you doing down there in Chicago?”
Turned out, the FBI had been building a file on Kris and was looking for juicy bits. Truth was, Kris had no intention of inciting a violent insurrection, or whatever the FBI worried about in those heady days. His goal was that all people be treated with dignity and given equal opportunity to thrive. He was nonviolent to the core.
Amid difficult racial integration efforts in Oak Park, Kris led efforts to overturn discriminatory (and eventually illegal) real estate, bank-lending and employment practices.
Together with village leaders and residents, he built “one of the most capable and progressive” civil rights departments in the country, a local newspaper reported, and Oak Park remains a successful archetype for communities undergoing racial change. His work there was, Jones said, “a most creative and long-lasting ministry.”
At Harris, Kris built and managed the bank’s foundation, counseled senior management on community responsibility and reinvestment, and led employee engagement efforts. In so doing, he unwittingly became a sort of corporate conscience at that staid institution.
Kris served on numerous national and Chicago-area nonprofit organization boards, too many to list. He was a teaching elder in Chicago Presbytery, often consulted for guidance on significant decisions, and helped small, struggling urban congregations rebuild. As active Macalester alumni, he and Connie endowed a scholarship program for first-generation Twin Cities students.
Voracious readers and lifelong learners, Kris and Connie traveled the world, seeking new perspectives and a deeper grasp of complex issues. After one eye-opening trip to the Middle East, they joined Chicago-area efforts to help Palestinians resecure a piece of their homeland. They were, Jones said, “a unique couple, always on the cutting edge of issues.”
In the 1970s, they bought a cabin in Green Lake, WI. Kris christened his sailboat “Attitude Adjustment” and treasured time on the water to “reflect, recalibrate and be renewed.”
He was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2007. Five years later, he and Connie moved to Westminster Place in Evanston, IL, a Presbyterian Home with the continuum of care they knew they’d need. Soon he was organizing there, too, advocating for administrative transparency as chairman of the Residents Council.
Kris worked hard to slow Parkinson’s inevitable progression. He was told to “move it or lose it.” Long walks with his dog(s) were already routine and gym workouts became a habit. When his balance inevitably deteriorated and reaction time slowed, he donated his boat to a sailing school and he and Connie sold the lake house. “The old green canoe is not too stable,” he wrote. “I cannot get into the kayak.
The sailboat is too fast. And I have not figured out how to walk on water.”
Kris was preceded in death by his parents Henry (1904-1965) and Gladys (1906-1978); and sisters Joan Willaman (1931-2015) and Nancy Cooper (1934-2022). He is survived by his wife, Constance C. Ronnow of Evanston, IL; daughters Karin Ronnow (Kim Leighton) of Livingston, MT, Heather Ronnow (Rick Kozal) of Elgin, IL, and Erika Ronnow of St.
Paul, MN; granddaughter Carmine Abigail of Belfast, Maine; grandson Colter Kozal of Pasadena, CA; seven beloved nieces and nephews; and countless friends and admirers.
All are welcome at a memorial service Dec. 14, 1 p.m., First United Church of Oak Park. In lieu of flowers, please consider a gift to the Parkinson’s Foundation. And get involved in your community, advocate for the most vulnerable. The world needs your help.