Remembering Charles, John and Don

Three more men that I knew and liked have now left this life. Not close friends, but people I valued and was always glad to see. We know a lot of people like that, don’t we? People who have contributed to a better life for our community, but who joined us along our path of life only recently, and not often enough. I think of them as friends anyway.
When I needed footings dug for an addition to our little house (we were downsizing, but found that we could not, so we decided to add three rooms!) I asked friend Delbert Case to recommend someone else since he had gone out of that business. The backhoe is the tool of choice for footings, but is also the weapon of choice for demolishing buildings, so I sought someone who might do the one without doing the other. Delbert recommended Charles Halford, who brought another friend, Bill Burnette, to help when he came to dig and to take out some trees.
All went well and I had nice trenches that required little dressing by hand to be ready for the concrete, and a maple whose branches had rubbed the roof was gone, as were many overgrown shrubs in the path of the addition. Soon friend and neighbor Joe Waldrop said, "I see you had Crash Halford working at your house the other day." Well, now, I might have asked for a second opinion, or called some other people, if Delbert had called him Crash!
Of course, I had to ask how Charles got that nickname, and was told that he earned it by tearing up so many machines when he was in the Army. Some of his friends insisted that his destructive habits continued in civilian life, so the name stuck, but it looked to me like he had mastered his craft by the time he came to my house. He moved several shrubs by scooping them up with the backhoe, and they are thriving where we set them out again. I shall always remember the wide grin framed by his big round cheeks and twinkling eyes as he worked. Sorta reminded me of Santa Clause, up on that big toy of his…
If you have central heat/air in your house built here in the last half century or so, chances are good that John McGuinn had a hand in putting it there. He had his own business for many years, but was working with Harold Burrell when I built my dream house on Holly Hill. Harold asked whether I wanted a Cadillac system, or a Mercedes, and John grinned broadly when I suggested that they price the Mercedes first… That big house was cool at the same cost for electricity as my house next door less than half as large.
When I wrote about the big Bradley house off Skyuka Road at the foot of Tryon Peak, I called John to ask whether it was air conditioned. I left for the Air Force before the house was completed, so I did not know. John said no, but he added window units in the bedrooms later. So John’s whole life was devoted to making people comfortable. Not a bad legacy, it seems to me.
Don and Mary Sasser entered our social calendar shortly after we retired here. She later became a customer at Fran and Mary’s yarn shop, and she also cut my toenails for me when I was laid up after my heart surgery. We talked about their daughter who got her pilot’s license and began flying in Alaska, and other common interests. You know, what friends do when they get together.
Then one day Don told me calmly that he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s… no sugar coating and no self pity, just acceptance. Don would stand by and just watch while Mary and I hugged, then he and I would talk quietly while the women visited. He did not just do yes and no, but offered thoughts and ideas of his own, which kept me from feeling that I was just doing my duty by "entertaining" him. What I am trying to say is that Don handled with grace and aplomb what could have been a more difficult circumstance for everyone. I salute him for that.
To you who knew these men better than I, may you accept my small tribute to their big presence in our community, as together we share our loss while cherishing their memory.