Bob, I loved your dad. We were in the writers’ group with Nancy Boyarsky, Larry Pryor, Leslie Schwartz, Ed Wright, Nadine Leville, and a few others. There were people added to the group after I left, and some were in it before I joined, but as far as I know, your dad was in it from its inception to the end in the late nineties sometime. (Nancy would remember better than I.)
I was teaching English at Arcadia High School at the time, and we met at each other’s homes at dinner time, had dinner, and read our work to each other. We never had more than six in the group because it was too much to read and be able to get home at a reasonable hour. I was in the group for about seven years, and one of the highlights of our meetings was listening to your dad read aloud. He was able to create an incredible amount of suspense in twenty pages or so, and he always imparted just the right amount of medical information to be interesting but not inaccessible. And he had a great sense of humor! He was always ready to laugh at life and all our foibles.
Sometimes I got a chance to ride with him from his house in…was it Reseda or am I thinking of the Boulevard?…from his house to whichever other house our destination was on the west side. I loved spending time pondering the world’s great questions with him. He was wise. I enjoyed his take on things because he was so incredibly wise. I say that about very few people, but your dad had a knack for seeing the truth about situations and people.
I remember being astounded one time at my condo in Monrovia when your dad informed me–mouth full of a beef rib–that he’d never had ribs like the ones I’d barbecued. Maybe he just thought of them as a dish to be ordered in restaurants and not made at home. I don’t know, but he sure loved my beef ribs.
He was fun. My thoughts of your father with always be loving, positive, humorous, and happy thoughts. Count your blessings that his life was full to the very end. He brought happiness to many, many people, though you may not hear from all of them immediately. He created a loving aura in ever-expanding concentric rings around him. The effects of his life may well be infinite. He was a great man.
I was planning on asking for your address so I could write a card, but frankly, I type faster than I can write. I would never have shared all this on a card. Please share my thoughts with your siblings. My personal belief is that siblings are additional gifts from parents…
My love to your family. I am far less sorry for your loss than I am joyful that your father was such a wonderful part of your life. He’ll stay with you. Believe me.
Layne Staral
P.S. I’m female, though my name looks a tad masculine. You’ll find photos I took of the writers’ group in a restaurant one year in the 1990’s. I doubt that I have any of them on my computer, but if I find them in the near future, I’ll email a couple to you. It was around Christmas time, if I remember correctly.