Paul “Jake” Jacob Ream, 50, passed away on Tuesday, July 7, 2026, with his loving family by his side. Born on Nov. 14, 1975, in Lebanon, he was the son of Linda (Weinhold) and Howard Paul Ream.
Jake was truly one of a kind. He had a larger-than-life personality, an even bigger heart, and a sense of humor that could catch you off guard and leave you laughing long after the joke was over. If you were lucky enough to call him a friend, you already know he was fiercely loyal, always ready to help, and the first person you’d want in your corner.
He was a devoted partner to Melissa Seling and a loving son who never lost sight of what mattered, making it a point to call his parents every single day. Family was everything to Jake, especially his nieces. Avery inherited his love of dogs, while Laney inherited his quick wit. Both inherited his ability to give him a hard time.
Jake earned his bachelor’s degree in sociology and criminal justice before spending 20 years as a correctional officer with Berks County Prison. He retired from the job, but never from the friendships he made with his fellow officers.
Away from work, he embraced life outdoors. He was an avid golfer, an accomplished deep-sea fisherman, and happiest spending time on the Atlantic aboard “his” Key West boat — this might be his parents’ boat. At home, he was happiest in the pool, at the grill, or giving Copper the kind of pets that convinced the dog he’d won the lottery.
Jake leaves behind countless memories for those who loved him, his parents, Howard and Linda Ream; partner of 11 years, Melissa Seling; sister, Beth (Josh) Garrison; nieces, Avery and Laney Garrison; many aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends who all have at least one great Jake story to tell; and, of course, Copper, who will spend a long time waiting for his best friend to come home.
He was preceded in death by his paternal grandparents, Fern and Howard F. Ream; maternal grandparents, Mickey and Paul Weinhold; uncles, Troy and Tom Weinhold; and first four-legged buddy and frisbee fanatic, Conan.
Per Jake’s wishes, there will be no public service. If you’d like to honor him, skip the flowers. Instead, buy someone lunch, help a neighbor, crack a joke when the room needs one, leave a bigger tip than expected, or simply do something kind without expecting anything in return. Jake believed people should look out for each other — and if you can make someone laugh while you’re at it, even better.
