Friend wished well on his final sail

An obituary placed on a local mortuary’s web page prompted a rush of warm memories this morning.

We jokingly referred to him as The Mayor Of New Corydon anytime he came up in a casual conversation.

His name was Don Kane.

To me he was my old “sailboat pal.”

We were Teamsters together on a flatbed steel account when I first met him. He had a wealth of knowledge and experience, and taught me a lot as a young driver on that steel account. We became friends and he invited us out to sail with him many times over the years.

His beautiful Catalina sailboat was impeccably maintained and appointed with all of the comforts of home.

A day on a sailboat with Don was always a peaceful day with no cares and no worries.

As his age began to catch up with him, he found he could no longer keep up with the vessel and it was a sad day to see him sell it.

He kept a beautiful home, yard, workshop, koi pond with a waterfall and babbling brook style Dutch windmill in his yard and had a beautiful greenhouse for his lovely wife.

Interestingly and thankfully, just this past Friday, as I was coming home from work, he called and we had a nice, 20-minute phone conversation as I was driving home. 

He lamented the fact that his health was failing him and that he was unable to keep up with the waterfall and pond in his yard which he had taken so much pride in over the years.

I reminded him that no one could possibly blame a guy who made it to age 90 for slowing down the pace a bit.

We spoke of the times together on the lake and of our years working together as Teamsters. 

We closed our phone conversation with his lovely wife on the speaker phone with us and said we would swing by for a visit the next time we were “up that way.”

On Tuesday morning, I answered a call from a 419 area code number that he had just given me on that Friday phone conversation, but since I had not yet entered it into my contacts list, it came up as unknown.

It was his wife’s cellphone, and she was calling to tell me that he had passed on, peacefully, at home in his sleep.

Of course I am sad.

Of course I lament that I didn’t get to see him one more time.

Of course I will really miss his stubbornness and cantankerousness — it was his style but he had a way of endearing himself to those who knew him.

However, making it to age 90, and departing peacefully in your sleep at home is something that I am going to call a win in my book.

Goodbye, my old friend.

Your last sailing vessel was named ISH-GO-ME, which translates to “with the wind.”

I wish you fair winds and following seas as you sail away.