June 1992
£ m a n u d ft.
On Eagles wings for you and I
Spiraling high into the sky
Where freedom rings for you and I
On Eagle’s Wings
" M a n n y " RiCatos
Funeral Services were held Wednesday,
3:00 p.m. Wednesday, May 27 at the Siletz
Tribal Center for Emanuel R. "Manny" Rilatos.
Pastor Alfred Burkey performed the service,
assisted by officers of Toledo Elks Lodge #
1664 of which Manuel was a member. Selene's
Siletz Unity Youth Group performed the Lord's
Prayer in Indian Sign and a favorite song
"Harbor Lights" by the Platters was played in
Manuel's memory.
Pall bearers were Frankie, David, Kent,
Rick, Phillip, and Darin Rilatos. Honorary pall
bearers included Edward, Phillip, Danny, David
and Robert Rilatos, Jr., Robert E. Simmons,
Matthew Williams, Jr., Everett Downey, Sr.,
Leonard Whitlow, Jr., Paul Irish and Joe Lane.
Interment was at Paul Washington
Cemetery.
Tribal member, Emanuel R. "Manny"
Rilatos was born to R.T. Rilatos and Pearl
Simmons Rilatos on September 13, 1923 in
Corvallis, Oregon. He died at his home in
Siletz, Oregon on Saturday, May 23, 1992.
He had resided in Wrangell, Alaska for
eighteen years; and in Siletz, Oregon for most
of his life.
Manuel was inducted into the U.S. Army
during World War II on June 25, 1943 and was
discharged February 7, 1946. During his tour
of duty he was awarded several medals. He had
been a logger and truck driver for thirty-five
ybars,,' r.etiring.at agesixty-tw o. , He had also ,,
been employed by the Job Corps for twelve
years.
He was a member of the Assembly of
God Church and Toledo Elks Lodge #1664.
Survivors include his mother, Pearl
Rilatos of Siletz, Oregon; his wife, Clarice
13
1
Tony Molina
On Eagle's Wings
You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord,
Who abide in his shadow for life,
Say to the Lord: "My refuge, my rock in whom I
tr u s t!"
And he will raise you up on eagle's wings.
Bear you on the breath of dawn,
Make you to shine like the sun,
and hold you In the palm of his hand.
Rilatos of Siletz, Oregon, whom he married in
Vancouver, Washington; six sons, Manuel Frank
Rilatos, Kent Rilatos, and Darin Rilatos all of
Siletz, Oregon, Richard Rilatos of St. Helens,
Oregon, David Rilatos of Knappa, Oregon and
Phillip Rilatos of Vancouver, Washington, one
daughter, Darlene S. Taylor of Auburn,
Washington; one sister, Mary Marzan of Orange
Cove, California; four brothers, Edward R.
Rilatos of Palmer, Alaska, David Rilatos and
Daniel E. Rilatos both of Siletz, Oregon and
Phillip Rilatos of White Swan, Washington;
twelve grandchildren; and seven great
grandchildren; and numerous nieces, nephews
and cousins.
M anuel
was
a ctive
in
T ribal
Government serving on many committees and
Tribal Council.
He will be missed.
The snare of the fowler will never capture you,
And famine will bring you no fear:
Under his wings your refuge,
His faithfulness your shield.
You need not fear the terror of the night,
Nor the arrow that flies by day;
Though thousands fall about you,
For to his angels he's given a command
to guard you in all of your ways;
Up on their hands they will bear you up,
Lest you dash your foot against a stone.
And hold you, hold you in the palm of his hand.
§
Editors Note:
Manuel Rilatos was my friend and I will
miss him.
Manuel always had a cheerful
greeting and some tale to tell. When the day
got long and tedious, I could count on him to
break the monotony and make me laugh. Manuel
nicknamed me "Fish" (short for the fish lady)
and I called him "Bait". Whenever I heard
"Fish", I knew I was in for a long interpretation
of something. Never one to mince words, I
always knew Manuel would speak his mind and
give his honest opinion. I have to admit that
sometimes the disagreements were more fun
than the agreements. I'll miss Manuel and I
would like to extend my sympathies to the
Rilatos family.
Teresa Miller
My people are few. They resemble the
scattering trees of a- storm-swept plain...There
was a time when our people covered the land as
the waves of a wind-ruffled sea cover its shell-
paved floor, but that time long since passed away
with the greatness of tribes that are now but a
mournful memory...To us the ashes of our
ancestors are sacred and their resting place is
hallowed ground...Our religion is the traditions of
our ancestors-the dreams of our old men, given
them in the solemn hours o f night by the Great
Spirit; and the visions are written in the hearts
of our people.... A t night when the streets of your
cities and villages are silent and you think them
deserted, they will throng with the returning
hosts that once filled them and still love this
beautiful land.
All Rights Reserved
)
-Chief Seattle 1855