Saluting Dr. Whit |

Saluting Dr. Whit

Dear Editor: I salute my friend. The one who I trusted with my life. On the river. On the mountain. Within my very cells. The one who trusted me with his life in a similar way.I salute my friend. The one who made the whole thing worthwhile, when everything and everyone pulled out. I salute the dancer, bass player, lover of all things fine. A witness to nature and the seasons, with the wisdom and spirit to stay connected. The one who claims his life was saved by Polly.I salute my friend who took me on my first walk in the mountains, straight up 13,500 feet to Scot’s Lake, who laid nose to nose with me in howling laughter beneath a tiny ledge as lightning stood our hair on end while frozen golfball meteors landed an inch away. I salute my friend who had only sweet things to say to me or anyone until the last breath was taken – except for those special moments when a “what the hell are you doing?!” was truly necessary to make point, or save a life. I salute this kindness. I salute this wisdom. I salute this man.I salute. I salute. I salute. I salute you, dear Whit.Steve HinkeyLos Angeles

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