Dennis Gray

Dennis Gray

Noel Laflin

May 1, 2020

We shared a mutual love for Calico Ghost Town, Joshua Tree National Park, Abraham Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln Elementary School, the lost statue of Abraham Lincoln that once greeted students at Abraham Lincoln Elementary School  – which was lost, found, lost again, found again, eventually restored and given back to the school from whence it disappeared some fifty years ago.  We also shared a love for a beloved summer camp, now long gone. And we shared a love for bad puns.  I know the list could go on, but I have forgotten all the rest right now.

I am proud to have known Dennis for over sixty years, as he was the younger brother of one of my best friends in grade school - and then Boy Scouting brought us closer together in our teenage years where a difference of just two years in age was no longer a big deal.  He was in the troop sponsored by the Methodists, his parish.  My troop met in the basement of the First Christian Church just two blocks away down on Broadway in Anaheim.  We saw each other at every local camporee and even at one of the last that I ever attended, which was in Joshua Tree. I have an old photo of Dennis in a group shot with all the kids and adults standing, sitting, or leaning against a backdrop of Jumbo Rocks somewhere around here. And the icing on the proverbial cake of our Scouting connection was that Camp Ahwahnee was our mutual retreat up in the mountains.  All in all, they are wonderful youthful memories.

We lost track of one another until the advent of Face book, and then the old friendship solidified once again, as true friendships do, even though we rarely saw one another in person. The irony over the past ten years is that we actually only saw one another at funerals for mutual friends; that is, until, he threw a donut party at his home just a couple of months back. And that was a rather special gathering, and a time for us to talk face to face for the last time.  He said he always liked my short stories. I said I always liked his taste in short story selection. I told him one final humorous one as I crouched on the floor and he leaned back in his chair. He laughed, God bless him.

There have been some fine tributes to Dennis, and I’ve got a feeling that there’s going to be a lot more, and rightly so; every one of them well deserved.

There is so much that I will miss about my old friend – his humor, his love of Jill and family,

his love of history (especially if it concerned our 16^th President), his love of puns, his love of Ferndale.

He taught us all how to stare adversity directly in the face, even the most dire kind, and wrestle it to the very end.

And to that very end he remained himself - honest, compassionate, kind.

Dennis left us way too early - there is no disputing that; and the void he leaves behind will linger for way too long, no doubt.

But damn, if he did not teach us all a thing or two about living! And yes, about dying too.

Safe travels, old Scout.

And in that journey, when you do eventually meet up, please give my regards to Mr. Lincoln.