Whitesell-Somers Family Web Project - Person Sheet
Whitesell-Somers Family Web Project - Person Sheet
NameDeborah Ruth RENIGAR 
262, Deborah Renigar Prince,470, Deborah Ruth Renigar Prince
262, Deborah Renigar Prince,470, Deborah Ruth Renigar PrinceBirthSep 29, 1966, Winston Salem, Forsyth County, North Carolina262, Deborah Renigar Prince
DeathFeb 9, 2026, Duke University Medical Center, Durham, North Carolina262, Deborah Renigar Prince
BurialCremated470, Deborah Ruth Renigar Prince
FatherRev. Paul Gordon RENIGAR Sr. (1942-2024)
MotherJudy RICHARDSON
Obituary Online notes for Deborah Ruth RENIGAR
Deborah Renigar Prince
September 29, 1966 — February 9, 2026
Burlington
Deborah Renigar Prince 59, of Burlington, NC, a beacon of compassion and strength, passed away on February 9, 2026, at Duke University Medical Center.
Born on September 29, 1966, in Winston Salem, NC, Deborah's life was a testament to her unwavering spirit and her commitment to making the world a better place. Deborah's early years were filled with the warmth of a close-knit family.
She was the cherished daughter of the late Paul G. Renigar Sr. and Judy Richardson Renigar. Her bond with her loving brother, Paul G. Renigar Jr., was a source of joy and companionship throughout her life. Deborah's legacy continues through her two sons, Nathaniel Marcus Prince and Benjamin Miles Prince, who she loved more than life itself and spoke of often. It was very common for her to show off photos of them and share how much she cherished each conversation and moment together. A woman of diverse interests, Deborah found solace in the tranquility of her garden, the adventure of travel, and the simple pleasure of a good movie or an engaging podcast. Her passion for the outdoors was evident in her love for hiking, where she often found peace and inspiration. Deborah's life was marked by her dedication to advocacy and volunteerism. She was a tireless champion for women and children who had suffered from sexual exploitation, offering her time and resources to support those in need. Her political activism was driven by a deep-seated desire to confront injustice wherever she saw it, and her efforts left an indelible mark on her community. Though her departure leaves a void in the hearts of those who knew her, Deborah's influence will continue to be felt. Her unwavering commitment to her family, her courage in the face of adversity, and her altruistic spirit have left an enduring legacy. A celebration of life will be held at 2:00 PM on Sunday February 15, 2026, at Life’s Journey UCC (Edgewood Ave. Burlington). Deborah wanted an uplifting service and for friends and family to come casual and share a smile. McClure Funeral Home in Graham is assisting the family.
Deb and I came to see that many of the heavens we were taught to long for were spoken first in metaphor—like parables told beside ancient fires, carried forward through generations who were, as all people are, reaching for language large enough to hold their hope. And in that quiet realization, something unexpected happened: we did not lose heaven. We found it.
For we discovered that heaven was never merely a distant country, deferred and promised beyond the veil. It was also the kingdom within and among us, as the wise teacher once said: not in the anxious waiting, but in the attentive seeing. Not in striving toward some imagined elsewhere, but in awakening to the holiness already given in breath, in presence, in love.
We learned that meaning was not imposed from above like stone tablets falling from the sky, but revealed gently, like manna—appearing each morning in the ordinary places of life, asking only that we gather it with grateful hands.
And so tranquility came—not as certainty, but as peace. Peace in the breaking of bread. Peace in the warmth of companionship. Peace in the quiet brilliance of the stars, which have always spoken without words of something vast and humbling and beautiful. Even in sorrow, there was a stillness that whispered, Be here now. This moment is enough.
For to be fully present is its own kind of eternity.
Deb understood this with a rare grace. She knew that life was both a dance and a game—kindred in their rhythms, but not the same. The game invited courage, resilience, and laughter in the face of uncertainty. The dance invited surrender, attentiveness, and wonder at the music beneath all things.
She played the game boldly. And she danced even more beautifully.
There was in her a childlike trust, unguarded and luminous, yet joined to an ancient wisdom—as if she carried within her both the innocence of first light and the knowing of ages. She saw her place in the great symphony of existence—not as its center, but as a note both humble and essential.
She breathed deeply of life. She gave freely of herself. She reached outward in love, and inward in reflection.
And even when the road ahead was uncertain, and she knew the steps might be difficult, there was always that familiar sparkle in her eyes—that quiet, mischievous joy that refused to be extinguished.
She would smile, as if hearing music others had not yet noticed, and say,
“Let’s go dancing tonight.”
https://www.mcclurefuneralservice.net/obituaries/deborah-prince 262, Deborah Renigar Prince
September 29, 1966 — February 9, 2026
Burlington
Deborah Renigar Prince 59, of Burlington, NC, a beacon of compassion and strength, passed away on February 9, 2026, at Duke University Medical Center.
Born on September 29, 1966, in Winston Salem, NC, Deborah's life was a testament to her unwavering spirit and her commitment to making the world a better place. Deborah's early years were filled with the warmth of a close-knit family.
She was the cherished daughter of the late Paul G. Renigar Sr. and Judy Richardson Renigar. Her bond with her loving brother, Paul G. Renigar Jr., was a source of joy and companionship throughout her life. Deborah's legacy continues through her two sons, Nathaniel Marcus Prince and Benjamin Miles Prince, who she loved more than life itself and spoke of often. It was very common for her to show off photos of them and share how much she cherished each conversation and moment together. A woman of diverse interests, Deborah found solace in the tranquility of her garden, the adventure of travel, and the simple pleasure of a good movie or an engaging podcast. Her passion for the outdoors was evident in her love for hiking, where she often found peace and inspiration. Deborah's life was marked by her dedication to advocacy and volunteerism. She was a tireless champion for women and children who had suffered from sexual exploitation, offering her time and resources to support those in need. Her political activism was driven by a deep-seated desire to confront injustice wherever she saw it, and her efforts left an indelible mark on her community. Though her departure leaves a void in the hearts of those who knew her, Deborah's influence will continue to be felt. Her unwavering commitment to her family, her courage in the face of adversity, and her altruistic spirit have left an enduring legacy. A celebration of life will be held at 2:00 PM on Sunday February 15, 2026, at Life’s Journey UCC (Edgewood Ave. Burlington). Deborah wanted an uplifting service and for friends and family to come casual and share a smile. McClure Funeral Home in Graham is assisting the family.
Deb and I came to see that many of the heavens we were taught to long for were spoken first in metaphor—like parables told beside ancient fires, carried forward through generations who were, as all people are, reaching for language large enough to hold their hope. And in that quiet realization, something unexpected happened: we did not lose heaven. We found it.
For we discovered that heaven was never merely a distant country, deferred and promised beyond the veil. It was also the kingdom within and among us, as the wise teacher once said: not in the anxious waiting, but in the attentive seeing. Not in striving toward some imagined elsewhere, but in awakening to the holiness already given in breath, in presence, in love.
We learned that meaning was not imposed from above like stone tablets falling from the sky, but revealed gently, like manna—appearing each morning in the ordinary places of life, asking only that we gather it with grateful hands.
And so tranquility came—not as certainty, but as peace. Peace in the breaking of bread. Peace in the warmth of companionship. Peace in the quiet brilliance of the stars, which have always spoken without words of something vast and humbling and beautiful. Even in sorrow, there was a stillness that whispered, Be here now. This moment is enough.
For to be fully present is its own kind of eternity.
Deb understood this with a rare grace. She knew that life was both a dance and a game—kindred in their rhythms, but not the same. The game invited courage, resilience, and laughter in the face of uncertainty. The dance invited surrender, attentiveness, and wonder at the music beneath all things.
She played the game boldly. And she danced even more beautifully.
There was in her a childlike trust, unguarded and luminous, yet joined to an ancient wisdom—as if she carried within her both the innocence of first light and the knowing of ages. She saw her place in the great symphony of existence—not as its center, but as a note both humble and essential.
She breathed deeply of life. She gave freely of herself. She reached outward in love, and inward in reflection.
And even when the road ahead was uncertain, and she knew the steps might be difficult, there was always that familiar sparkle in her eyes—that quiet, mischievous joy that refused to be extinguished.
She would smile, as if hearing music others had not yet noticed, and say,
“Let’s go dancing tonight.”
https://www.mcclurefuneralservice.net/obituaries/deborah-prince 262, Deborah Renigar Prince