Thursday, December 7, 2023
Well, brother, from the misty days of yore, I recall you saying that you wanted to return to your home town driving a top of the line convertible Cadillac down Congress Street and smoking a big cigar. That scenario might have gone by the board, but you created a much larger, unforgettable image by creating a marvelous professional and personal life through perseverance, humor, intelligence, and most importantly, love of family. You kept the Rumford Fosters laughing and scratching heads with many of your off the wall nut jobs like giving dad an inflatable female leg as a birthday present, thinking that as a widower who’d been out of circulation for a few years it might perk his interest in things of a romantic nature. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he unwrapped the oddly shaped mess of newspaper. Stunned, nonplussed, he was a man without one single anchor in the real world. In the street vernacular of Rumford, he didn’t know whether to shit or go blind. I think I might have needed oxygen to maintain consciousness from laughing so hard. Just one of many. You were a classic, a high school Romeo wannabe who always seemed to end up serving punch at the church social - yet still finding a way to walk away with the minister‘s daughter. Awesome. Whatever the reality of the next leg of the journey that we are all on as we exit stage left, you’ll end up being life of the party. Godspeed. my brother, Godspeed.
