A little over a week ago, a very close friend of mine contacted me with some terrible news. A mutual friend of ours had passed away from a work related injury. I was floored by the news. Even though Kenny, or “Skinny” as he was more commonly called, had never really taken very good care of himself, it still came as a tremendous shock. He lived a hard life and probably drank and smoked way too much. But that’s just the way he was, despite a number of health issues, he seemed to show a total disregard for his safety or well-being. He battled diabetes for close to thirty years, but never let it slow him down, working his ass off doing roofing and siding jobs for most of his adult life. He certainly wasn’t the biggest guy you’d ever meet, but nothing seemed to scare the man. I remember watching him jumping off cliffs at the quarries when we were younger. It could be debated whether it was bravery or stupidity, but he would do back flips off ledges that most of us wouldn’t dare jump from. He also never took shit from anyone either. He stood his ground always, no matter who you were, and get a few beers in him, he’d throw down with anyone no matter how big they were. Without a doubt, he was fearless, and tough, walking away from a number of misadventures and accidents that would’ve laid any normal man out. Because of this we all knew that someday his life style would catch up to him, but we didn’t think it would be so soon. Last week, Skinny’s luck ran out. For whatever reason, he had fallen from the roof he was working on, and just like that, one of the bravest, and kindest hearts I ever knew left us.
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