Wednesday, September 16, 2015

A Difficult Goodbye

     In some ways, entering into adult life is like going to a big party at an isolated house.  At first, you don't know anyone.  You can't follow the jokes.  You don't know who's who; you arrive with some people you know, but they drift away, one and two at a time, and you encounter one another less often...

     Eventually you start catching on.  And wow, some of the people at the party, they're amazing!  Sure, there are bores and braggarts and blowhards, too, but my heavens, the really fine people are such a delight to know...

     After some time, you're there in the thick of things and the party's really rolling along.  And then -- just then, you start to notice that some of the people who were there ahead of you, some of the brightest lights, are less and less evident.  Some of them are just plain missing.  Even a few of the people who arrived when you did, gone.

     There are all these new faces, more all the time, and some of them are pretty sharp, too, but fewer and fewer of the folks you looked up to, mentors, friends....

     Gone.  Stan, Ricky, Jeff, Don, Dave--

     One of the best men I ever knew, generous with his time, his knowledge and his heart, bigger than life and with a laugh to match, is gone.  Frank W. James has left this world.  My condolences to his family.

     Don't know what else to say.  Farewell, Frank Fare well.

9 comments:

  1. I will always hold dear the memory of staying in Frank's childhood home, on a dear hunting trip. There was no furniture, but there were lights and water and rooms he had explored as a youngster. We got up in the early morning and headed out to his land to see what sustenance was there. On our first night after a unsuccessful hunt, he stopped by and told us so many stories of that house and that land and the fact that there was no deer in the freezer meant little to us as we had that history. He will be sorely missed.

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  2. I don't know who Frank was, but I have lost loved ones and those close to me. I feel your pain. I grieve with you and his family. There are no lofty platitudes that will make it feel better.


    I just hope that eventually the bitter of his passing will be overcome with the sweetness of his memories.

    Blessings.

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  3. For you and Tam, who knew him well, we grieve with thee. Pass regards for his family.

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  4. Oh, no. I am so sorry to hear this. RIP.

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  5. Most of the stars of the firmament of my youth have shined brightly and, blazing gloriously in my mind, have winked out. He was like them-- a true Hoosier. More than this, I cannot say.

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  6. He was one of my favorite bloggers. Ugh. RIP and sorry for the loss.

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  7. My closest friends are mostly close to my age, 72 next week. It scares me half to death (no pun intended) to think about who is going to leave us first, then next, etc. One had a "mild" stroke (if there is such a thing) just this past Tuesday, got out of the hospital today.

    Your post says it all, thanks for writing it.

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  8. I was very sorry to hear about this, as I really enjoyed his writing. So did my father in fact, I think he followed Frank's bog more faithfully than he did mine.

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  9. I am so sorry Roberta. I didn't realize until tonight after reading other blogs that Frank James was THE Frank James. I still send my sorrow to you and yours, but now I have to include the rest of the firearms community, as one of the great ones has left us.

    May our sadness be tempered by the memories of his spirit, for he will not be forgotten.

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