Edited on 9/2/2024 – received word of the death of Joe Ravas, whose death in June was not known before today
One of the things my father told me when he was in his mid-seventies was that he spent a lot of time going to the funerals of people his age.
When he died fifteen years later, I reflected on the fact he was one of the very few people his age still left.
That might have been the most difficult part of it for him as everyone he knew and had shared life experiences with had been gone – some for many, many years.
But he carried the memories of them to the very end. He had often remarked over the years of the men he had served with in WWII while in the Army. I feel the same about the men I went to sea with in the Navy.
I bring this up because of the recent announcements of the deaths of four of my classmates from McBride Hight School – Class of 1970.
They bring those we have lost to 36 of the 139 of us who graduated together – that’s one quarter of us; some who died many, many years ago; some very recently.
Tom Carron, Joe Ravas, Ed Roesch, and Mike Wagnitz have all died within the last three months.
Of the four, I knew Joe and Tom the best.
Joe and I used to talk a lot in the cafeteria; and I recall riding the bus with him into downtown to the Federal Building to register for Selective Service (yes, we used to have to do that). Joe lived with his parents in tall residential towers across Market Street.
With Tom, we were not close friends, but close enough for me to know him as a down-to-earth friendly guy who had time for everyone. Reading of his death from ALS was devastating for the terrible ravages it must have brought.
I didn’t know Mike or Ed that well. I recall being in classes with them and talking about whatever foolishness most of us talked about – in class or out of it. Reading the remembrances of those who loved them it makes me regret I never got to know them as well as I might have.
Certainly, understandable as most of us were struggling to understand ourselves in those formative years with everything going on in the world around us.
But, as I wrote in a post concerning our 50th reunion, I was humbled by the guys I with whom I went through those four years and the extraordinary men they grew into.
And maybe there’s a point there.
While I’ve not seen most of them – living or passed – for decades, I carry my memory of them with me. The same as I carry the memories of others with whom I shared important, and not important, parts of life.
I’m old enough to know, and particularly due to a few medical adventures, that the end is much closer than the long-faded beginning. (But hopefully not anytime soon. I agree with Stephen Wright: I’m planning to live forever. So far, so good).
But that’s not really the issue or the point.
As we continue on the remaining part of our individual journeys we share the same passage, marked by how we affect the world and those we know and love.
And to be remarked upon – if even for a brief time – for having led a good life.
Tom, Joe, Ed, and Mike: Fair winds.
Thanks for writing down your thoughts, Tom. Well said.
My wife was a hospice chaplain for 12 years before she retired in 2022 and shared many of her experiences with me over the years. It’s a journey we all get to make, she said, and she saw her job as a sort of “end of life” midwife: A midwife helps a person to enter this world and her job was to help them move into the next one. One way we could make that journey easier, she said, was to stay current with our loved ones as much as possible: “Try not to have much unfinished business; it leads to regrets.”
Tom Carron and I were able to talk on the phone in May and I was hoping to visit him in person before he passed but we ran out of time. For the most part, I have only good memories of Tom and I was able to thank him in writing with a story he was did get to read. You can read it here – https://michaelppowers.com/path/lost-found.html.
Like you, I am a storyteller and so what I remember most about loved ones I’ve lost are the stories and the lessons they taught me. The ripples continue to move outward and then they echo back again. Best to you, Tom.
Mike,
Thank you for your thoughts and kind words. I don’t think there can be a finer tribute to who Tom was than the heartfelt remembrance you wrote.
Tom
Tom
What a surprise!
I write to you not only as a fellow McBride class of ’70 alum but as a lifelong fly fisher as well. I started earnestly when I was a sophomore at McBride and would bring Scientific Angler and R.L. Winston catalogs to school that I would pore over during study hall and even some boring classes.
Looking at your tags I can see parts of my fly fishing life including Seattle. I had an apartment in Kirkland for a number of years as I was commuting back and forth between Seattle and our home in Minneapolis for a business.
I traveled extensively in my business life and was fortunate to include fly fishing in many parts of the world. Today I am just happy fishing for my troutlings in the Driftless area of MN and WI. My annual goal of 1,000 trout. Right now is my steelhead season on the Brule River in WI. Not your steelhead but still plenty exciting when you are catching 8-15 inch trout for most of the year.
Hoping all is well with you and wonder how you got involved in fly fishing.
Tight lines,
John
Hi John,
Surprise – indeed. Both SA and Winston have been a part of my time on the water; currently use an Alpha+ and an SA sink tip off the beach about half the time. I’ve also been through the Winston rod shop in Twin Bridges on a number of trips to MT – almost a hajj for any fisher of Winston rods.
So, to answer your question. In 1975, while I was in Navy nuclear prototype training in Idaho Falls, Idaho – I made my first visit to Yellowstone. On a very rainy and dark October Sunday I was on the way out to the west entrance. In the gloom, there was a fly fisherman wading in the Madison. I think that set the idea.
Eventually, when I got to the Seattle area – paid a visit to the Bellevue Orvis store and the journey began.
Most of the time it’s beach fishing in Puget Sound for searun cutthroat trout and non-migrating Coho; this year’s been a bit slower than most, but the seals, sea lions, herons, and other seabirds, along with the passing ship traffic – make up for it.
Thanks for writing.
Tom