These past ten years "on the road" have been such a blessing for us. We have travelled this country from coast to coast a half dozen times, exploring and living in such amazing places. People ask what is our favorite. It's impossible to say. It is a matrix of mirriad moments, some heart-stoppingly beautiful, some heartbreakingly profound.
I know these are not proper words. My friend Russ, the writer, would not approve. But as my son, Ryan, told me 10 years ago when we ventured out of our safe harbor, "You will see some incredible country Dad, but the real journey will be the people you meet." So it is.
I first met Russ at a book store. He and a couple other older Island guys would gather every Sunday afternoon to talk literature, writing, occasionally politics. Russ was more about writing. So was I.
He was an unpretentious, white haired, bearded man who dressed casually, drove a beat up Jeep and smoked a pipe. He worked at the local CVS and lived in a modest older cottage near the beach. He played tennis every Saturday morning with a "Not Too Serious" tennis clatch. He was, I came to discover, one of the smartest men I have ever met.
Russ is a better listener than he is a talker, but once he focuses on a story, his story or any story, he peels the details back like an onion. We lived close to each other and would often find opportunities to sit and talk about life. Slowly, over the years, he revealed more and more of his story.
Born of humble beginnings, Russ excelled throughout his life, in school, in his many areas of interest, in the military, in business. He earned degrees in finance and in law. He taught at Georgia Tech. He owned several businesses, practiced law, raised a family, lived in a big Georgia house with land and horses and all the trappings of success. And at a point in time, Russ walked away from it all to become a writer on a little island off the coast of Georgia.
One day he handed me an elastic bound cardboard box. In it was a working copy of his manuscript, his labor of love. It was an honor that he bestowed upon me and it led to hours of conversation regarding plot and character, tone and method. It taught me much about the craft.
He loved my dogs. And he loved my wife. Whenever she went to CVS and he was on the register, he would always call out to her as she left the building "I LOVE YOUUUU!" and she was delighted to respond in kind.
Time waits for no man and time is catching up with Russ. Serious heath issues. The difficulties and ordeals of the past year would have caused a normal man to give up. With Russ, they revealed yet another layer of the extraordinary man he is. His suffering is tempered by acceptance, perseverance, stoicism. He does not complain and does not lightly suffer those who do. He sucks the marrow out of Life to its sparse, bitter end.
His example is something I sorely need to learn and I observe him closely.
I am struggling to find words to express how much I admire and love this man. I think he knows. But, just in case Life catches up with him before I get back to the island, I want to express it in this blog.
You are my friend, Russ. It has been my great honor and blessing. I will always carry our friendship with me in my heart.
I know these are not proper words. My friend Russ, the writer, would not approve. But as my son, Ryan, told me 10 years ago when we ventured out of our safe harbor, "You will see some incredible country Dad, but the real journey will be the people you meet." So it is.
I first met Russ at a book store. He and a couple other older Island guys would gather every Sunday afternoon to talk literature, writing, occasionally politics. Russ was more about writing. So was I.
Russ is a better listener than he is a talker, but once he focuses on a story, his story or any story, he peels the details back like an onion. We lived close to each other and would often find opportunities to sit and talk about life. Slowly, over the years, he revealed more and more of his story.
Born of humble beginnings, Russ excelled throughout his life, in school, in his many areas of interest, in the military, in business. He earned degrees in finance and in law. He taught at Georgia Tech. He owned several businesses, practiced law, raised a family, lived in a big Georgia house with land and horses and all the trappings of success. And at a point in time, Russ walked away from it all to become a writer on a little island off the coast of Georgia.
One day he handed me an elastic bound cardboard box. In it was a working copy of his manuscript, his labor of love. It was an honor that he bestowed upon me and it led to hours of conversation regarding plot and character, tone and method. It taught me much about the craft.
He loved my dogs. And he loved my wife. Whenever she went to CVS and he was on the register, he would always call out to her as she left the building "I LOVE YOUUUU!" and she was delighted to respond in kind.
Time waits for no man and time is catching up with Russ. Serious heath issues. The difficulties and ordeals of the past year would have caused a normal man to give up. With Russ, they revealed yet another layer of the extraordinary man he is. His suffering is tempered by acceptance, perseverance, stoicism. He does not complain and does not lightly suffer those who do. He sucks the marrow out of Life to its sparse, bitter end.
His example is something I sorely need to learn and I observe him closely.
I am struggling to find words to express how much I admire and love this man. I think he knows. But, just in case Life catches up with him before I get back to the island, I want to express it in this blog.
You are my friend, Russ. It has been my great honor and blessing. I will always carry our friendship with me in my heart.
