Winter is a time of dying

At least that is what grandmother always told me.
Today I understand once again what she meant. Shortly after my last post, as I was getting ready for my adventure, fate and the good Lord intervened.
My darling bride whipped open the garage door to tell me the beeper had gone off and they were requesting the WBVFD to report to the C.G. firehouse for the crash. Dropping everything I ran to the fire hall to grab gear, colleagues , and the engine.
But enough of my adventure. I can tell you all about the workings of emergency response later, (if you want).
A friend of mine was driving that plane. A former professional colleague, fellow retired Coastie, and a brother who chose to stay on our beloved island to pursue his dream.
Robin was one of the best sticks I knew. He devoted a major part of his life to answering the bell and pulling people out of the water. I had the pleasure of being on the back-up c-130 crew that watched over his helo as he went out into the goo more than a few times. Ironic; after all the years of doing the heroic work he did, it was a milk run that took him from us.
I would go on, but I cannot. Suffice to say, I will miss our conversations in the various parking lots about town. You know the ones; how ya been, whats new, did ya hear about?; and finally lets get together when things slow down.
Well things never seem to slow down, do they?
Peace and love to the families of those that did not make it. Peace and love to the survivors and their families.
Peace and love to you Judy.
Our former colleagues have started the email trail already. He will be missed and mourned. Another of my former brothers-in-arms has beaten me to the gates of heaven.
Another thing Grandmother taught us.
Every time you see or talk to your friends, treat them as if it is the last time you will see them.
Too true.
God hold and keep you.
Good night Robin