by Gary Kinslow
I am lucky and proud to count this titan, this uber-renaissance man as a friend. He and Barb had recently moved up from a Tollycraft 34 foot trawler to a 43 foot cockpit motor yacht and they were looking forward to a future of cruising where ever the bow pointed. He prosyletized Tollycraft and delighted in serving as my Tollycraft mentor, tirelessly educating me on the the sturdiness of the boat and the mystique of the brand. And the reverence we should hold for Yanmar diesel engines.
He never ceased his effort to find the right boat for me and a slip near his and Barb’s in the Shilshole Bay Marina where we could be neighbors, debating politics, history and health policy, a favorite topic for us both. Sprawled in deck chairs on our boats’ upper decks, we would rebuild America’s health care system over fine wine and draft beer and something tasty. He would be thrilled to know I’ll soon be a Tolly owner myself, due completely to his power of persuasion. But in the meantime, we would content ourselves with long late night telephone conversations, in which I could grasp the concept of about every third phrase, but armed with the knowledge that an artfully placed grunt of agreement would suffice to keep him rolling until that inevitable moment when I nodded off and the phone clattered to the floor.
Steve and Barb and I could be in a restaurant and this grizzly bear would think nothing of hauling his bulk out of his chair and interjecting himself into the midst of another couple or family at the next table because he found something of interest in them, offering his opinion on the topic of the day, whatever that might have been. Barb would roll her eyes, accustomed to this habit but I would sit there with my head buried in my hands, silently saying, “oh here we go again!” But never did his targets take offense. They were enchanted. He had that way about him.
Truly larger than life, but he could be fragile, and I know he sometimes mused that he didn’t have many real friends. He was so wrong. He was my friend, a real, true friend, gained so recently and cherished so deeply. I will miss making fun of him as a clone of Moses striding down the mountain with a smoldering sapphire tablet cradled in each arm. He is sorely missed and my heart goes out to Barb. I count the times I’ve spent with them both as among the richest in my life. My biggest regret is that my wife never had the opportunity to meet them, because that meeting would have enriched us all.
Steve, you and I should have written that paper we discussed, You persuaded me that I still had one in me and it would be a hoot. But without you, it’s only a wistful dream.
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