Regarding The Passing Of Rich Reidy (1957-2025)

Even if you’ve been faithfully reading every issue of the Neighborhood News for years, you may not know who Rich Reidy is. But, rest assured, Rich was one of the most important people working in the Hillsborough County government, someone who played a role behind the scenes in most every decision that has affected New Tampa for more than the past two decades. 

Rich, who passed away suddenly at age 68 on Nov. 11, first became Dist. 2 County Commissioner Ken Hagan’s legislative aide when Ken was first elected back in 2002. (Note-Rich left to become the top aide for then-State Sen. John Legg in 2013, but he returned as Hagan’s top aide in 2018, after Legg was replaced by Sen. Jack Latvala, who was forced to resign at the end of 2017). “Rich did love the legislature,” Ken says. “I was so glad he came back.” 

Here’s how I found out Rich had passed: 

I wanted to get an update on the planned safety improvements to Morris Bridge Rd. south of Cross Creek Blvd. So, instead of calling Comm. Hagan directly on his cell phone, I did what I usually did — I called Ken’s office. Jannah asked me who I was calling and I said, “What I usually do when I have to ask Hagan something, I’m calling Rich Reidy at Ken’s office.” 

I had my phone on speaker because I wanted Jannah to hear just how helpful the guy has always been to me — from when I first started trying to find out when Bruce B. Downs (BBD) Blvd. was going to be widened (what now seems like an eternity ago) through questions of county parks in New Tampa and the extension of Cross Creek Blvd., to the New Tampa Performing Arts Center, to Morris Bridge Rd. and many more. 

Instead of Rich’s usual happy-to-help attitude, Comm. Hagan’s other aide, Glorivee “Glory” Burgos, answered the phone. I had spoken with Glory a few times over the past few years, but I didn’t “know” her like I do Rich, so I asked her, “Can I speak with Rich, please?” 

“What is this regarding?,” she asked politely. “Is there something I can help you with?” 

I said, “I’m just calling for an update on the Morris Bridge Rd. safety improvements and Rich is always who I ask things like this.” 

The silent few-second pause that followed was deafening, but Glory finally said, “I guess you didn’t hear, but…Rich…passed away last week.” 

Jannah and I both let out an audible gasp at the same time. “What happened,” I asked, holding back tears. “Was it a heart attack?” 

“No,” Glory responded. “He had a short battle with cancer.” 

And, even though I think Glory mentioned that some of the safety improvements planned for Morris Bridge, the ones we reported back in our Apr. 1 issue, had either already begun or were getting ready to begin, I honestly believe I wasn’t really listening anymore. All I could think of was talking to Ken about Rich. 

“He was having trouble catching his breath and keeping his balance, but like most guys, he just tried to ignore it,” Ken told me. “He went to his doctor, who sent him to Moffitt (Cancer Center). Apparently, the cancer had started in his brain and it spread quickly throughout his body. He never got to go home.” 

He added, “The whole thing took maybe six or seven weeks, In hindsight, I guess it was a blessing that he didn’t suffer long, at least, but his only thoughts, right up until the end, were for his wife Donna.” 

Ken admitted that when he first took office, his friends would call to ask him for his help with something, but over time, the answer always seemed to be, “Just call Rich, which is what I said at his Celebration of Life.” Ken says. “After a while, my friends would just call him directly and I wouldn’t even know. He’d resolve the issue and then, when I’d see them again they’d say, ‘Thanks for taking care of that for me,’ and I’d be like, ‘Sure. Anything for you, buddy.’” 

He also said Rich championed a county statute that became a statewide internet safety bill to protect kids from sexual predators. “I got the credit for it, but Rich actually did all of the work,” Ken says. He also noted that Rich also was, “a ‘scab’ umpire during the strike-shortened 1995 Major League Baseball season, a former small business owner, an animal lover…and a true friend.” 

And, the government staffer I trusted the most. R.I.P., Rich.