hello, it's me, Skip. When David showed me the painting you gave him and
told me of your passing in the storm last week I lost my breath. I remember
you drifting past my office at RIL and stopping to say hello, a ray of light
in the open doorway. You came in and together we watched men on the roof of the Superdome
across the street patching the surface in the late afternoon sun. That was the
last time I saw you. I will remember your intelligence and grace always.
Until we meet again.