Some of the mornings have been foggy and hazy on Wildcat Boulevard, especially along High School Branch.
Sometimes the day seems clear and normal until I top the ridge onto Veta Street and look down into the valley. It will frost there, too, when it does no other place. A person would not think there was enough of a temperature difference in a few feet of elevation to create haze and frost, but there is.
A neighbor stopped and yelled, “Your camouflage isn’t working?”
I yelled back, “I know.” I wear a bright blaze green workers vest with reflective tapes, so I realize I do glow a bit. I was proud of my neighbor’s cleverness.
Recently, I lost two friends. First was Eddie Coleman, 96. I met Eddie when I joined the Neosho Lions Club. Eddie was a happy man, a pleasant man. He was a good Lion.
He especially shined when we had one of our pancake feeds to raise money. Eddie outsold every member in the group in pre-event ticket sales.
Eddie was a Neosho Lion for over 50 years. We didn’t see him very often after he moved to Joplin, but his presence remained, even after his death. He asked that any memorial contributions be made to the Neosho Lions Club. The memorial money will continue to help pay for the Neosho Lions major endeavor — supplying eye glasses to those kids in the Neosho schools who cannot afford them.
The second friend was David Reed, 47. David was a former student of mine who graduated from Neosho High School in 1983. For some reason, he and his entire family have become friends over the years.
I had his brother and sisters in class. His dad was my “bug man.” Some of the family members dropped by the house for a visit some time. I see his dad at the Veterans Clinic in Mt. Vernon.
I last saw David when he came into a local bank as a security guard with Loomis. I was surprised seeing David guarding the money exchange in the bank, but was lucky he had a couple minutes for a short chat, also.
Sadly, as we age, we lose more and more friends and relatives to death. I was talking with a cousin the other day when our conversation came to our western North Dakota relatives. We agreed that no one else in the family knows anything about this branch of my maternal grandfather’s family, except we two. When we pass, this family connection will be gone forever.
Like I told Kay the other day, “I wish Ma was here for me to ask her a couple questions.” She isn’t.
Page 2 of 2 - Take a walk, enjoy those friends and relatives that you love when you have them, use those signal lights, don’t speed, and see what you notice while passing along Wildcat Boulevard.
Russell Hively writes a weekly column for the Daily News.