Writing a personal remembrance of Randy Riley is something I’d never expected I would do during my career. It’s difficult because his passing was sudden and is so much to process as someone who knew and worked closely with him. It’s also not difficult because of how grateful I am for him and everything he gave so many as a leader and colleague, and as a person. Through his work and in life, Randy made a profound, incalculable difference.
As many statements from organizations including the Library of Michigan (LM), Library of Michigan Foundation,?Michigan Academic Library Association (MiALA), Michigan Library Association (MLA), and University of Michigan School of Information have noted, Randy was a singular and exemplary professional. Through his decades of devoted service to libraries and citizens throughout Michigan, he supported and led many important initiatives and fostered and promoted excellent access to a wide array of information. Randy’s affinity for genealogy and special collections tracked along with changing technology (e.g., in the form of LM’s support for the DPLA Michigan Service Hub, Michigan Memories, and the Michigan Digital Preservation Network [MDPN]). His strong support for MeL, the Michigan Notable Books program, LM’s grant programs, library staff professional development, and more endeared him to hundreds of libraries statewide. Randy was known as a relentless advocate who was generous with his time and help for libraries and library staff. He fielded as many questions and inquiries, visited as many libraries, and met with as many groups as he could. During the visits he and I made together, I marveled at his knowledge of what was happening at libraries of all sizes.
Randy also kept the Michigan library community connected to the wider profession through his work with the Chief Officers of State Library Agencies (COSLA) and as a member of the MCLS Board of Directors. He maintained countless long, positive, productive relationships with deep connections, including with some of us at MCLS, and called on his vast network to help the community through hard times when needed. People knew they had Randy’s support and answered his call in return whenever possible. His steady hand was invaluable through all the federal and state political and budget turmoil of 2025, and he rallied and guided many to engage and speak on behalf of MeL and other critical programs.
Randy was an articulate, incisive, thoughtful, passionate, and supportive constant presence on the MCLS Board for over ten years. As with so many other groups, it was rare that he’d miss a Board meeting. Though he would usually have plenty to say, he’d often let others in a larger group speak before weighing in on an issue. After we’d served on the Board together for a few years, Randy was one of the first people I called to seek advice about whether to apply for the Executive Director position. He urged me to go for it, and doing so changed my life. When I joined MCLS, our relationship evolved. We shifted from being fellow Board members to being the people who had the responsibility of leading the organization that made MeL possible and the organization that supported it. I came to see more facets of the complex person Randy was. I’d known him to be approachable, open, caring, direct, and funny. He also resisted anything he considered “touchy-feely,” and sometimes had an edge. He could be impatient when urgency to make a point got the better of him. I learned quickly that when he’d interrupt me mid-sentence, it was because he had an important point to make or question to ask based on his experience and thoughtful deliberation. He played such an important role that I always listened. When we were together, we would often have intense conversations on topics ranging from libraries to state and federal government to many aspects of life outside of work. He was usually much more concise in writing, often emailing a single sentence or question with the simple signature “r.”
Beyond libraries, we spoke often about our families, activities that included travel (e.g., family visits and his fishing trips), books he recommended, and our shared passion for music from many genres. Knowing Randy was nearing retirement, I asked for updates on his future plans. He’d say that he wanted to continue working while he could still “do cool things.” He wanted to guide newer LM staff including managers Michelle Bradley and David Votta. He also said that he didn’t want to end his career in bad times for libraries. He suggested that there were cycles of support for libraries and that we were either in or approaching a trough period. I appreciated how often he would urge us to stay strong and find ways to climb back up to a peak. As pained as Randy was by those who label librarians as “groomers” and “pedophiles,” he truly believed that libraries could have a bright future if librarians love and engage with people.
Randy used to joke that he had a “life sentence” on the MCLS Board until retirement (as the Indiana and Michigan state librarians each have a permanent Board seat). I knew the day would come when Randy would leave our Board, and I had not yet prepared fully for what it would mean to lose his voice, his experience, and his belief and faith in our organization through its successes, challenges, and potential. He told me during the November 2025 MCLS Board retreat that it would be his last, and I took that to mean that he was planning to retire in 2026 though he hadn’t announced anything official. I looked forward to wishing Randy the long, happy, and healthy retirement he so richly deserved.
On January 4, I learned Randy had passed the previous night. I was absolutely shocked and heartbroken.
I am heartbroken.
I am heartbroken for Randy, his wife Lori and their family and friends that he didn’t get to enjoy retirement with them. I am heartbroken for the LM staff, the Michigan Department of Education (MDE), and the greater library community having lost him so abruptly.
As I started working through an enormous sense of loss, I started writing about the impact Randy had made and my memories of him. The words just flowed. Many of my MCLS colleagues and I were fortunate to join hundreds of others who mourned him at LM on January 9. The memorial was as singular as Randy was. The heartfelt comments from many of Randy’s colleagues, friends, and especially his brother Mark, will remain with all who were there.
Today, I move between gratitude and grief. I’m glad for so very many things, and sad for so many others. I’m glad Randy was able to provide such stable leadership at LM and for the many boards and working groups on which he served. I’m glad he was able to celebrate MeLCat’s 20th anniversary last year. I’m especially glad that Randy got to enjoy 37 years of marriage to Lori filled with so many rich experiences including all the time spent with their children Sam and Madeline and pets including his beloved dog Louis (pronounced like the French kings). He was clearly so proud and supportive of each member of his family, and I’ll miss hearing him talk about them. I’m glad Randy got to spend so much time traveling to fish, visit family, and see his favorite bands. I’m glad for the times I got to see bands with him, including The Baseball Project at Bell’s Back Room in Kalamazoo and The Hold Steady at Brooklyn Bowl Philadelphia. I’m sorry I never got to play him the bass solo he’d needled me about for years, at a Lighting Matches show. I’m grateful for the time he gave me for our monthly breakfast meetings and so many other conversations. I’ll miss wondering what discussion topics were on his list and whether I was as ready as he was to dig deeply into them that day, which eyeglasses he’d be wearing, whether or not he’d have a beard, what book and music recommendations he’d offer, and looking for his truck in the parking lot to remind me how late I was for our meeting (he was remarkably patient about that). I’ll miss his simple parting words: “Talk to you.”
Randy Riley was one of the kindest, most generous and supportive colleagues I’ve ever had. Whether he’d say so or not, he truly cared deeply about many, many people in his life. It was just obvious. While he spoke so many meaningful words so easily at library events across the state and in meetings around the country, his actions spoke much louder.
I am one of the innumerable people for whom Randy made an immense positive difference. I am thankful for his work, contributions, vision, insight, experience, humor, and everything else he shared with us. I will honor his memory by striving to be the forthright and decisive leader he pushed me to be. I’ll do what I can to help the library community stay strong, pull together, and collaborate, as he urged. I’ll read more, including the Michigan authors he championed. I’ll seek out and stay open to new music and invite others to join me to see bands more frequently.
I’m glad Randy Riley was my colleague. Working with him made my professional life richer.
I’m glad Randy Riley was my friend. Knowing him made my personal life richer.
I’m taking peace and comfort from years of great memories of Randy. If you knew him, I hope you are also.
If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know at garrisons@mcls.org.
