I just got word that Doug died Saturday of ALS. When I l
ast saw him, I think it was October. He was in a full wheel
chair and drinking whiskey from a quart Mason jar with a
big straw. His friends just kept it coming. He was a big
guy, but I was amazed at how much he could hold. He
was sweet and shared with me. We watched as a
fountain he had designed was unveiled. He talked
of his design; a head atop a long tall box. ALS was
stealing his body and soon his very breath, but his
mind was full of ideas. How sad that between the
two of us we couldn't at least share, he, my body
and I, his brain. We spoke about the irony of it all
in hushed tones as the crowd about us drew for Iron
in the Hat. Only he and I, and now you, know of
this moment. It stands out so clearly in my failing
memory. But our diseases march to their own tune
and Doug left. I only hope he had no pain at the
end. I know, however, that he was aware of his
plight. I am aware of mine, but remain hopeful
that I will live to beat this illness. Other days I hold
no such illusion and only hope to leave this world
with some dignity and those I love with wonderful
memories. I will not be able to gather in MO to
celebrate his most excellent life. I will think of him
when I am working at what may be my last trail
build next week. I do not know if my hands will
allow me to build hiking trail any longer, but I
am going to try…because I am not dead yet.
