A Great Man

I’ve thought a lot in the past about what I would say when this day came.  What would I say about a man that, among men in my life, only my own father had a greater impact.

I have all the same memories about Mr. Fisher that most do.  Beginning band, the amazing trips (Philly, and Calgary to name a few for me), the stage band experiences, Boise, etc. of which I could take up a whole post reflecting upon.

My memories go far beyond that. For while growing up, Rob and I were, as Ken would say when stopping an argument where Rob was most likely wrong again, best of friends.

[Explanation] Rob and I sometimes would argue like brothers because we probably spent more time together than most brothers did.

Hence the reason I have so many memories of the Fisher family on a personal level apart from my school experience. From spending lazy summers at Loon Lake (doing things that probably should have killed us), to spending time in the other seasons just….spending time.

Not once in all those years did I ever feel like I was intruding or felt like I wasn’t welcome in the Fisher home.  It was truly a second home for me.  The reason for this I feel is embodied in the following Bible verse.

(Pro 15:1) A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.

Although I’m sure my addlepated ways back then must have frustrated him, he always gave a “direct” but soft answer. By doing this, I was able to see more logically what is important in this world and grow because of it.

Ken was a man of great wit and wisdom. Whenever I was around it was obvious he was a man that loved to laugh.  I remember him laughing till it looked like it hurt at some of antics and exchanges of Rob and I. I saw this even as recent as the last Settler’s Day parade where Rob and I were exchanging sillys about how Rob looked like hippy and should go read poetry down at the bookstore with his Obama t-shirt.  He just looked over at us with “that look” I’ve seen so many times in the past and then just laughed.  I think it was Ken who taught me to belly laugh. When it came to wit, I thought many a time I could out wit him just to get trumped.  It was always all in good fun.

And as others will undoubtedly say, he planted a love for music that is still with me to this day.  Not tuba of course, but in the form of guitar.  Playing and leading people to worship the same God I know he loved also.

I could go on and on but I end with this.  My love and prayers go to the whole Fisher family as they grapple with this loss,  and to Ken, see ya soon.  Maranatha

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