Some memories of Dan Toomey from his neighbor in Bear Valley….
Early on, greeting him with “What’s up, old man of the mountain?” and him replying, “I prefer the cognomen of Historian, Okaaaaaayyyyyy?”
The first thing he told me after meeting me and realizing we were both massholes. You can tell the massholes because “Palmer and Wasilla” are” Palmah and Wassiller, Okaaaaayyyyy?”
Trying to get me to talk about sports, especially the Patriots, assuming, since I was from Boston, I might know something about sports (I don’t). “Are you sure you are from Boston?”
Teaching me how to plow in Bear Valley when I moved up here never having run a plow before. Inspecting my rig and telling me what needed to change – “The snow is going to right over your windshield and you won’t be able to see a thing, Okaaaaaayyyy?” Helping me with my first chain-up… Key tips - “Always go downhill. Uphill is not gonna work, Okaaayyyy?”
Getting our plows stuck together trying to rescue my girls in a snowstorm with 100MPH winds screaming at each other over the storm and laughing at the craziness of it.
Teaching him how to use the bobcat to snow blow the neighborhood but forgetting to tell him about the throttle causing him to do it at 1mph for many many hours.
Mentoring my sons and especially Paul of late…. time tested activities that grow boys up like sherpa’ing him up the mountain for one last ski run, piling firewood which included one-sided dad lectures while riding shotgun in the red truck, mowing his lawn and painting his fence. “Do it this way, okkaaayyy? It’s gonna work better!”
Thanks for the lessons in living and in how to handle the inevitable end.