Friday, April 5, 2024
Our camp neighborhood will never be the same without our quiet, unassuming James fiddling around his place, getting "the work" done so he could go be free on his jet-ski and cruise the waterway he loved for so long.
My grandparents were friends of his parents - quietly respectful with a wave as we drove slowly past their driveway, across the pine needle rutted road on the way to our place two doors down. Those were the days of privacy and neighbors keeping to their sides of the fence (well, in this case Pine trees) as it were. But as James was caring for his Mom more, we saw more of him at camp, and finally cocktail hours and campfires saw his baseball cap and flannel shirt more frequently. And it was our lives he enhanced with his quirky sense of humor and tales of HIS ideas on matters of the world, both large and small. He always added value and mirth to any conversation.
We'll miss you, James! Know for sure your neighbors will raise a pint in your honor this weekend and remember you fondly.
Cheers, mate~
Diane Murray Warburton
(from Callaway's Hideaway..."next to Foots")
