I mourn the passing of two remarkable women who made a remarkable difference in Fort Wayne; Dr. Jane Irmscher and Anne Richard, the former a beloved health commission of our county, the other an equally revered mother of a former mayor.

Dr. Irmscher, as the papers note, founded a number of programs for our betterment in Allen County, notably the super shot program to immunize more of our children. Rates were low when she came into office and they were sky-high when she left office. As health commission she set standards for public food safety, for immunization and for a dozen other areas. She was simply a visionary who we all should thank daily for the safe guards she put in place. But, I also knew her as a respected elder. She was the mother of a good friend, so I often, years ago, had the opportunity to visit her home. A more gracious and loving woman you could hardly ever expect to meet and there was nothing but kindness and tenderness from the moment she would meet one at the door. Dr. Jane Irmscher was simply a loving woman who applied her goodness to the benefit of the rest of us.

And, I would think that if there is a heaven and we do meet again Dr. Irmscher is standing arm-in-arm with Anne Richard, herself the epitome of charitable, polite, well educated and gracious women. Mrs. Richard will best be remembered as the mother of our former mayor, Graham Richard, but she was also very active in the affairs of her church and in helping others less fortunate than she in other parts of the world. Graham was the product of her compassion and great intelligence. Again, I had the great opportunity to be a regular in her home during 1980. As I remember, she would serve milk and cookies to me, a campaign worker for her son, and to others who came to his aid. She set the gold standard for politeness, respect and gentleness, but she could offer a quick insight into to politics, as well.

So, if there is a heaven there is a reunion attending now at a nicely set table where two gracious ladies hold a remarkable conversation about all that they had seen in their eight plus years of life. Fort Wayne has a great hole in her heart today.

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I’ve only known him a few short years, but in that time we became very close friends, sometimes talking everyday. His girlfriend and I also became very good friends.

The family was gracious enough to allow the woman he loved, his girlfriend, to come early to have some time alone with him. She came and brought her two young daughters to say goodbye. More on that later.

I don’t do well at showings or funerals. I was in the third grade when my grandfather passed away, and that was my first showing. He had gone out to shovel snow and knew that his elderly neighbors could not tackle the task, so he shoveled their walk. He came back in the house and had a massive heart attack and passed away. We were buddies. He showed me how to fix my bike, do woodworking and so much more. It took decades to get the image of him lying in that casket out of my mind.

The next showing was someone I had been friends with during my high school days. She had been hit by a car while getting out of a vehicle. Her face was poorly reconstructed. It was so bad, it reminded me of a jigsaw puzzle. I didn’t do well with that either.

With the exception of an employee that unexpectedly passed away back in 1993, I didn’t attend any other showings for close 30 years. At my employee’s showing, no one was there. I mean literally, there was no on there. That ate at my heart and I broke down. The next one I attended was last year for Hartley McLeod. Hart was a genuine guy, a prince, and it was nice to reconnect with his children Pam and Hart Jr, who I had worked with when I first came to Fort Wayne. In spite of that, I became overly emotional and had to leave.

More recently, a close friend’s father passed, and out of respect I went to the showing. I had never met the man. Again, emotion took control, the tears started and I had to leave. I guess I’m just not good at handling death, but I am working on it and praying more than I ever before.

As I walked into the building Sunday, my friend lay in his casket only 15 feet or so from the door. The uncontrollable tears started, and I had to make an exit to the back of the building. I was embarrassed, but the tears would not stop. After about 10 minutes, I finally got it together and proceeded to the viewing line. I saw a face I knew and approached her. We hugged, and the uncontrollable emotion kicked in again.

Then she dropped the bad news.

It seems a family member had an issue with his girlfriend. They didn’t want her there, and she was summarily asked to exit the facility before anyone else came. Needless to say, I was shocked out of my emotions. I made my way to the front of the line and found my friend’s sister. Although I’d only met her once at the hospital on the day of his death, I think she’s a very nice person. We hugged, I cried, she cried. I gave her a CD I had burned of pictures of her brother, said goodbye, and I left the building in search of his girlfriend.

After a great deal of searching, I found her in the parking lot. She was standing there crying in the cold between the cars, with mascara running all over her face. She was a mess.

Saying goodbye is something that is tough for all involved. In this case, even more tough. My friend had become so out of control, his family had not been in contact with him in several months. I suppose there were lots of assumptions being made about his girlfriend as a result of things my friend may have said to his family. I’m only guessing here, but knowing him and the conjured up life he was living, I can only guess.

I understand the family’s grief. But to deny the woman that spent the last several years living with him access to his final goodbye has me miffed. I guess I’m at the very least perplexed. She worked hard to help him address his demons, but she never got the chance to explain that.

So be it, it’s over now.

He had a private funeral yesterday that was restricted to the family. I understand. I really do. Today I took his girlfriend to his grave and we said our final goodbye. Going to a fresh grave on a cold December day can bring on a case of melancholy, but now, I think I have closure.

I’m really going to miss him.

Rest in peace my friend.

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I lost a very good friend this morning. He took his own life. He was only 35 years old. He left two small children behind.

Times are tough for a lot of people right now. I cannot imagine getting to the emotional state of distress my friend was in. I cannot imagine what the mother of his children will tell them. I saw the grief his family was going through at the hospital. Taking your own life leaves a train wreck behind for your family. I don’t understand, I really don’t understand how someone so full of life can do this. I’m trying to understand.

Seared in my memory now is the image of him as I watched the EMS crew take him out of his house. I want to remember him as I knew him, a happy go-lucky guy that was everyone’s friend.

My prayers to his family.

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Soupy was played by Milton Supman, and became famous for his pie throwing antics.

From WIKI:

On January 1, 1965, miffed at having to work on the holiday, Sales ended his live broadcast by encouraging his young viewers to tiptoe into their still-sleeping parents’ bedrooms and remove those “funny green pieces of paper with pictures of U.S. Presidents” from their pants and pocketbooks. “Put them in an envelope and mail them to me,” Soupy instructed the children. “And I’ll send you a postcard from Puerto Rico!” He was then hit with a pie.

Several days later, a chagrined Soupy announced that money was unexpectedly being received in the mail. He explained that he had been joking and announced that the contributions would be donated to charity. As parents’ complaints increased, WNEW’s management felt compelled to suspend Sales for two weeks. Young viewers picketed Channel 5. The uproar surrounding Sales’ suspension increased his popularity.

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A Tribute to Carol Anne Burger

The Huffington Post’s OffTheBus is deeply saddened to report that one of our writers, Carol Anne Burger, died on Friday, October 24.

The circumstances of her death remain unclear; police believe she may have taken her own life after learning that her roommate – and former partner – had been found dead.

From Fox News

A Huffington Post writer stabbed her former lover more than 200 times with a screwdriver and then tried to conceal the slaying, PalmBeachPost.com reported.

After committing the gruesome crime, Carol Anne Berger, an election correspondent for the Huffington Post, reported her former flame missing, then fatally shot herself a day later, police told the Web site.

Lt. Gary Chapman said Jessica Kalish, 56, a software executive, was found in the backseat of her BMW on Oct. 23, the Web site reported.

Kalish had been stabbed with a Phillips-head screwdriver 220 times, he said, with wounds concentrated in the back of her head, back, arms and face. A blow to Kalish’s neck likely killed her, Chapman told the Web site.

Yep, she died alright. She placed a gun to head after bludgeoning her former lover. Funny how the Huffington Post didn’t mention that item.

Thoughts and prayers to both families.

AWB

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James F. DeVoe, a former Marion businessman and the owner of a national line of car dealerships, was killed in a plane crash near Melbourne, Fla., on Thursday morning.

As news of DeVoe’s death spread in Grant County, former competitors and coworkers remembered DeVoe as a good person and entrepreneur.

DeVoe founded J.D. Byrider, a used car and finance company franchise, in 1989. The business is headquartered in the Indianapolis suburb of Carmel and there are now 123 locations in 28 states.

He and son-in-law Steele Gudal, a Byrider shareholder and franchisee, were en route to Melbourne from Jacksonville, Fla., when their six-seat, twin-engine Cessna plane crashed while making an approach to the local airport, according to the Brevard County, Fla., sheriff’s office.

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