A friend who should still be alive

I am inspired by Dick Trail’s tribute to Bill Elliot on his retirement. That guy deserves gallons of ink, as do all of our city and county employees. Bill, in particular, saved my bacon once when my son and I were experimenting with Estes rocket designs. We became a bit too creative and blackened one of the lower baseball fields. Were it not for Bill and his crew from the rural fire department, it could have spread further south.

To the best of my knowledge, we were not under a red flag warning that day, but I have had a new respect for them ever since. City and county employees, by and large, are all good folks and do a great job for us. As a group, they have my undivided respect.

I have, however, a particular concern about the recent passing of two of our city employees under curious circumstances. I didn’t know Ken Keslin, but I have known his mom for several years. She worked for a former business partner of mine and shares an interest in a community organization that is very dear to me. I am tremendously sorry for her loss.

Larry Dicke is a different story. I knew that guy. He was a friend. If you dial back two or three decades, there was a bar in town called “Sports,” and they had a video trivia game. One could play on a portable gamepad, watch the results on a screen, see the results of players around you, yet compete on a global level. For the 1990s, that was some seriously slick technology.

Larry was good. He was vicious. He was a machine. He was a beast. He and I battled to be top dog and I lost as many times as I won. Some days, he just wiped me out and I had to buy him a beer, but here’s the real deal: when you went on the Sport’s Trivia system, you had to sign in with a name; a handle; some identification that would be seen in every television screen in the club. Larry always used “Turdherder.” Let that sink in for a minute. It was a reference to his employment as an employee at our city’s wastewater treatment plant. He was proud of it, yet had a gentle, self-deprecating sense of humor about it at the same time. That was Larry. That’s how he rolled.

I went on to have a family, and the after-work bar thing was no longer a part of my life. I didn’t see Larry for a long time, and I regret that I didn’t do a better job of keeping up with him. Any meetings past that were accidental, like when he gave our Leadership McCook Group a tour of the plant. The last time I saw Larry, was about six months ago at Schmick’s Grocery (now Gary’s) and we stopped in the aisle and had a nice talk about work and family. I am thankful that we had that time to catch up.

We have all lost friends and will continue to do so. The reason I write about him, in particular, is this: Someone screwed up. Those two guys should be alive right now. I don’t know who caused it. I don’t know what caused it, and for now, mouths are sealed. There are electronic monitors that can warn people of noxious gasses. There are monitors that can notify people if ventilation systems are not functioning.

Naturally, my condolences go out to both fine families during what is certainly a difficult time; Mary and Theresa in particular (Theresa turned me on to shrimp chips). That much should go without saying, but those of you who know me may recall that a local government operation was accused of wrongdoing and I bird-dogged it. My original source was not worthy of academic or journalistic credibility, but it was hard to ignore the regulators. They confirmed our worst suspicions.

I won’t pretend to know more than I know. I don’t. No one is talking, but I just want you all to know. Everyone. I am keeping my eye on this one. I can only imagine this is on OSHA’s radar, and there are probably a constellation of other alphabet agencies involved.

I would gently urge the city government to be as transparent as possible, or they will have at least one, humble yet vicious Yorkie nipping at their heels. We will visit this again.