Isako S. ‘Yuko’ Richter

Daily Press - - Obituaries -

Hamp­ton – Yuko Richter, 81, a long time res­i­dent of Hamp­ton, Vir­ginia, passed away on Septem­ber 5, 2018. Yuko was born in Sendai, Ja­pan on De­cem­ber 17, 1936.

As half of an Air Force of­fi­cer/Air Force wife team, there were nu­mer­ous trans­fers dur­ing her hus­band, Richard’s ac­tive duty, to in­clude Aus­tralia, Ja­pan, and var­i­ous state­side as­sign­ments. Af­ter Richard’s re­tire­ment they set­tled in Hamp­ton, Vir­ginia.

Yuko was pre­ceded in death, by her hus­band Colonel Richard Richter USAF (Re­tired) and her son Thomas Ben­der. She is sur­vived by her sons, Robert Ben­der of Hen­der­son NV and Rick Richter of Vir­ginia Beach VA and her two grand­chil­dren, Dean and Grace Richter.

Al­ways com­pet­i­tive, in her early years Yuko en­joyed wa­ter ski­ing and bowl­ing. In later years, she took up Con­tract Bridge, end­ing up as a Di­a­mond Life Mas­ter.

Yuko was a funny story teller and a warm-hearted friend and will al­ways be re­mem­bered as the lov­ing wife of Richard, and the lov­ing mother of her boys.

As it was her wish, she will be buried at Ar­ling­ton Na­tional Ceme­tery with her hus­band Richard on 28 Novem­ber 2018 at 10:00am. Any memo­ri­als can be given to the Penin­su­lar Bridge Club.

Top 10 Things Her Son Rick Will Al­ways Re­mem­ber and Cher­ish About His Mom

10. She was such a giv­ing per­son. And I don’t mean the $20 bills she gave her grand­kids. I mean the scarves she knit­ted and gave to friends. The meals and clothes she gave the guy who cut her grass. The Farm Fresh fried chicken she gave to the per­son who fixed her AC. She gave when she didn’t have to, but she wanted to.

9. She spoiled my dog Bar­ney rot­ten. My mom never al­lowed a pet in the house when I was grow­ing up but she just loved my lab mix Bar­ney. When I came over to visit af­ter I grad­u­ated col­lege Bar­ney was the first to eat in the house – a spe­cially pre­pared steak or chicken meal for Bar­ney.

8. My mom was a damn good cook. She could cook any­thing and I swear to this day that her fried rice, Mex­i­can pizza and clam sauce and pasta with gar­lic bread was the best I’ve ever had. Now, she couldn’t cook fried chicken like a South­ern lady (she re­moved the skin and pan fried the chicken!) but ev­ery­thing else was on point!

7. Like all moms, she was full of life les­sons and ad­vice. Sigh/Haha! My fa­vorite that I heard un­til my early 30’s was: get health in­sur­ance and get mar­ried!

6. She was one of the best bridge play­ers in the state and man alive was she com­pet­i­tive. Grow­ing up my par­ents didn’t fight a lot, but when they did it was about the er­rors my dad made as my mom’s bridge part­ner.

5. She loved to tell sto­ries. And as I got older the ma­jor­ity of them were about me when I was grow­ing up. And as her men­tal acu­ity waned th­ese last cou­ple of years, she tended to the tell the same story a cou­ple of times when my kids and I came for a visit – to the de­light of my kids since the sto­ries usu­ally poked fun at me. IE “When Rick was in high school he had such a small waist. I wor­ried about him eat­ing. But af­ter he dis­cov­ered chicken and dumplings at Vir­ginia Tech, he didn’t have a small waist any­more, so I stopped wor­ry­ing.” Dean loved that story!

4. She was com­pet­i­tive and she taught me to never quit. Be­fore she broke her kneecap in 3 places she ran 3 miles a day. Af­ter her knee in­jury she walked 3 miles a day. And when I would call and ask if she was do­ing OK af­ter a snow storm, she would be just get­ting in from walk­ing 3 miles. “It’s only snow.” was her an­swer to why she walked that day.

3. She taught me about “sav­ing for a rainy day.”

Her and my fa­ther never bought any­thing out­ra­geous and taught me the valu­able les­son of work­ing hard for your money – un­til your money can work hard for you.

2. She was strong, re­silient and stub­born. Each of those traits that I have. There wasn’t any­thing she couldn’t do and noth­ing she wouldn’t do for her friends and fam­ily. I called her the “bat­tle ax” be­cause of how tough she was. Bro­ken knee, burst ap­pen­dix, cracked open head. Noth­ing slowed her down and noth­ing was im­pos­si­ble for her. I guess when as a child you sur­vive WWII your per­spec­tive of what’s hard or tough changes.

1. Look­ing over my fa­vorite pic­ture of my mom with her grand­kids re­minded me how she ab­so­lutely adored and spoiled them. And it re­minded me of how she was with me – her love, ad­vice, blunt talk and laughs helped mold me into the man and fa­ther that I am to­day. She will be missed and loved and I will al­ways be grate­ful that she was my mother.

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