Tribute for Gary

Gary was my personal alarm clock my senior year in high school. Our junior high was condemned Gary’s junior year, my senior year which meant the first bell rang at 6:15am each day. My undiagnosed sleep apnea meant many mornings I slept through my alarm clock. Gary was faithful to bang on my basement window to drive me out of my slumber. Gary’s mischievous, infectious smile was another memory I have of my friend. His passion for basketball, which were manifest in one-on-one games on his slanted driveway at Richards-Gebaur AFB, were a constant demand of our friendship. His laugh, which was more of a chuckle, and the proverbial peace sign were all part and parcel of Gary’s nature. I am grateful to have shared a short span of life with Gary and his positive nature. I have included an excerpt from a short story/memoir that I wrote recently recanting some of the adventures we shared together.

An excerpt from “Front Wheel Drive Mudding”

Time generally changes all of us but more so during our high school years by virtue of the car and its freedom, allowing us to broach our coming adulthood with a new level of independence. Many times, God’s grace prevents tragedy, other times our own recklessness and stupidity exact an expensive cost. Recently, we lost our mentee, Gary, to non-Hodgkin’s cancer and the brutal impact of Covid. I took it hard when I found out about his passing as I had begun to write a series of short stories recounting some of the tales we shared this past summer on Gary’s back porch in Athens, Ohio. He had picked me up at a nearby campground where Jane, my wife, and I were staying. We were passing through on our way to an extended trip to the Great Lakes but I had purposedly amended our trip to have a day with my old friend. I hadn’t seen Gary and his wife Margie since they showed up for my surprise 40^th birthday party, planned by Jane. Gary proudly showed me around Athens before we had lunch and then settled in for some catching up at his house. He gave me some tips for my travel to lower Michigan. In particular, he pointed out some great things-to-do around Silver Lake, an area where his mother had grown up and where his family continued to vacation at for years. As our time wound down, I pressed him on the issue of joining us for the 50^th anniversary of the class of 1973 at Belton High School in 2023. At first, he was non-committal but relented somewhat when we both agreed that his connections to our high school was stronger with me and Tim, other than his classmate and friend, Keith Parks. He said he would certainly think about joining our upcoming celebration and that I should keep him posted. After our visit, I talked with him by phone, sensing his fragility, and desiring to keep our renewed connection fresh. Seeing requests for prayers for Gary by Margie on Facebook, which I unfortunately checked irregularly, I called Gary’s mobile phone only to have the call go straight to voicemail. Intuitively, I knew before I searched the Athens obituaries but the confirmation of his passing still hit me in the gut and took my breath. Tears flowed as I read the account of my deceased buddy that was so alive just months before and sat with me on his beautiful enclosed back porch. As memories of Gary flooded back, I recalled the front wheel mudding tale of Tim’s Fiat and the horse laughing we enjoyed at his expense. It was then I realized death doesn’t destroy our memories, it merely crystalizing them in order to preserve the genuine joy we share in each other’s presence.