As I embark on a journey tomorrow to fight cancer that you folks have generously made possible, I received news this morning that my dear friend, Jimmy, has passed on. His struggle with lung cancer has ended.

Jimmy was, jokingly, Mayor of Matney, a spot in the curvy road on one of our high surrounding Appalachian Mountains. Loved by everyone and possessing a character of good will and fun, he humored us daily at our ski school. He was a seasoned ski instructor, loved the sport and brought the kind of discipline and fun to his work that clients appreciate, especially those big groups of folks he could entertain so well.

He was a member of our 'esteemed' board of directors of pro women and men seniors, serving as vice-president. A little explanation; although being a professional ski instructor may seem from the outside like a glamorous profession, in reality, it's arduous work even on Bluebird days with classes lasting all day or running consecutively--hour-after hour--and dealing with the demands of a general public, and being an amateur psychologist in calming down the inner fear beginners and intermediates bring to the slopes.

When it's 20 below with the winds howling, we often ask, "why are we doing this?"

We have a large school, very large for an East Coast resort and for years we've had a number of senior citizens like Jimmy and I; with Andre being the oldest at 82. Andre is French, he is the BOD's ambassador.

Our board consists of all us old timers who meet almost every late afternoon for Apres-ski. ZT is chairman of the board. We enjoy drinks together, bitch about the mountain management at times, but mostly relive the fresh memories of the day's classes including our triumphs, the breakthroughs we so enjoy seeing our clients make and of course laugh a lot as skis don't like surprises, we see very unusual things.

Usually, big laughs and hugs make the day. It's a rare camaraderie that respects the discipline, appreciates the work and years of teaching experience we luckily share. We are closer than family in many ways.

Spoke with Jimmy by phone on Tuesday. He had been home about two weeks--having endured more than three months of heavy chemo and radiation-his oncologist had told him he was good to go and to return in three months.

Jimmy's voice was strong; he was very happy and planning for the future, so his passing comes as an unexpected shock to us all.

I'll never make heads nor tails of why this life is...

But I feel this, deeply: Jimmy's spirit will live on and I expect it to return and pick up where he left off, leaving the world around him with a daily smile and friendly encouragement as is his custom.

Once at an afternoon board meeting, some non-skiing friends of Jimmy's from out of state paid a visit. They were pulling his leg about old times rehashing shared memories of their youth together.

One of those friends pushed Jimmy about his skills on a pair of skis, asking him while looking around at us, "Jimmy tells us that he can ski really fast, really fast, can he?"

I answered, "yes, I know that to be true because when we are racing, every time I look over my shoulder, I see Jimmy there."

Everyone broke in-half with laughter and Jimmy proudly recalled that moment of a few years ago often. He loved a good joke, even at his expense.

Thanks c99p members for letting me share this sweet memory of my pal and thanks for your ongoing support.

Peace and love to All. s7

Note; Don't think I'll have time to respond to any comments this afternoon, maybe later.

The Board is singing for you, Mr. Mayor.