I don't know how many obituaries I've written or edited over the years. It's in the thousands, probably tens of thousands. Mostly they just roll by, more grist for the endless copy mill that newspaper work is.
Occasionally, one stops me cold. Usually, it's a kid. Not hard to figure why that is. Sometimes, it's a photo that does it. I remember an obit a few months ago at The Outpost for a woman who had been a nurse for the troops during World War II. I don't know what she looked like when she died, but the photo proved that she had been one stunningly gorgeous nurse. Any soldier who woke up in a hospital with her leaning over the bed would just have to get better.
Sometimes one sends me into a blue funk for no good reason at all. Maybe somebody who died with no survivors. Or who was sick for many years before dying. Or, for no reason at all that I can detect, just out of the blue one or another gets to me.
A few minutes ago, it was an obit for a 34-year-old waitress. She graduated from Senior High School. She had two kids. She died of breast cancer.
Zap, it hit me. Damn. You come into life with no guarantee except that one day you will leave it, and that's fair, I suppose. But sometimes it just doesn't seem right.
So here I am having my own private Memorial Day for somebody I never knew, other than through a half-dozen paragraphs in the paper. In a way, it feels like I knew her forever.
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Just returned my the annual pilgrimage to Mountview and Sunset Memorial Gardens. Made a stop by a classmates grave who who riding a bicycle and was struck by a drunk driver, She had been admitted to Veterinary School at both Washington State and Colorado State--a feat in itself considering how hard those two schools are to get into. Stop by the graves and niches of several other friends including Alex Mavity.
Will attend the Services at Mountview tomorrow and will make it a point to attend the brief Vietnam Veterans of America service after all of the show and pomp and circumstance. Usually about 6 people attend the VVA service which is the reading of the names of the men from Yellowstone County. Lest we forget.
The black dog lurks around every corner.
Recently an Air Force General said "It is a travesty that we never get to know people until after they are dead."
There used to be a man who would stop in the Dude Rancher and get a large coffee to go. He was older and very tall and dressed nicely-Columbia Jacket, Australian Outback hat etc. He was a walker. Didnt pay much attention to him until I saw his obit. He had been a homicide detective in Minneapolis and retired to Billings for hiking opportunities in the area. I wish I had gotten to know him. He lived downtown and the waitresses said he opned the Dude Rancher every morning at 6am and did the crossword puzzle.
From that wise philosopher from Butte, Robert Craig Knievel (better known as Evel):
"The Good Lord has put you on this Earth to be the best you can possibly be, and when He's ready, He will take you."
While Evel has said many crazy things over the years (like, "I WILL jump over the Grand Canyon"), I find that to be very profound indeed. (I might add to that, that He will take you when HE wants to--you have no say whatsoever.)
Kirk Dooley
Mesa, AZ
I see in the Daily that Jana Polly passed away but no obit yet. An equally sad story to David's above. Some people give too much.
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