Memorial to a Friend // June 16, 2008

I don't remember when I met Ken Blass. I don't remember him ever not having a white beard and living in the woods. I suppose, since he has always just "been there" its hard to imagine the world without him. Sitting in my office in yet another American war far from home, I recall his words to me when I decided to join - "just keep your head down and don't volunteer for anything." Got it Kenmar, trackin'.

Its strange, I'm wracking my mind trying to access my earliest memories of Kenmar, but they are blank - it literally is as though I have no memory of a life before Kenmar Blass. I do remember a few remarkable moments though.

-       I shall never forget the time my brother's and I were working in his garage, arranging tools or something like that. I was never quite sure what it was that we were doing, I just kept moving stuff around... He was trying to push some tool up to the second floor of that now collapsed building and his pants, held together with a simple bolt and nut, dropped to the ground and he stood there in his underwear. The unflappable man simply quipped, "Well, I guess now you have seen a man literally work his pants off."

-       Kenmar used to take me to the Buckly Engine Show. We went twice I remember. Seems like the first time was in payment for moving some stuff around. Always moving stuff - never throwing it away mind you, just moving it. We worked for several days to get the camper mounted to an old dodge that was literally as old as me and early in the morning took off for what seemed to me a very long trip up north. The whole experience of camping was new and exciting to me. Kenmar seemed quite the man of the world. A walking encyclopedia of knowledge. Strolling through the flea market, he taught me the secret of bargaining - 1. Always have the ability walk away, 2. Never buy anything on the first day, 3. Remember that at a flea market - its just someone else's junk.

-       On those trips to the Engine shows, he taught me the value of old things. How a hit'n'miss engine worked, how a steam engine worked and how veneer was made. Walking by those old tractors, meeting all the folks that he knew, I learned why he loved being the life-long bachelor - apparently it was because he could put as much turkey on his sandwich as he wanted - no one to yell at him about it. My mom made me (and him) promise that in going to Buckly, I would not forget to do my devotions. So, dutifully he pulled out his Bible and we read it together. He was fascinated by the trials of Job I remember...

-       It was one of my greatest joys to experience Kenmar in his twilight years, a man who found his way back to the faith of his youth. I remember his faithfulness, his dedication and his love for the Scripture.

I shall miss you my old friend. You, who guided and helped shape the man I have become. I shall miss our talks, the knowledge, the wisdom of your years. For the first time since I heard that you died, I am crying. I shall miss you.

Rest now old man. Rest in the arms of the Savior who loves you. Rest now in the bosom of the One you searched so long for.

Rest now my brother. You served your country well. I have taken the flag in your memory. We who have served on the Line will muster again under the colors when call goes out. Old soldiers never die, they just fade away...

Tonight, when the taps play and the flag is lowered over the desert, I shall think of you and remember...