Forty Feet in the Air

A few years ago the old tv antenna on my house was damaged by a storm. A man named Jimmy Vaughn showed up with his truck and welding torch. Jimmy scampered up there, made some well placed cuts and brought the damaged and precariously balanced tower down, to our family's amazement. He didn't know us but did this work cheerfully because Kim is friends with his sister. He asked if he could give the scrap to a friend of his who sold metal and used or found materials to one of the local shops. I asked him how we could repay him he said, "Buy me a hot dog if you see me on the golf course."

Jimmy was a professional welder and a local legend, known mostly because he helped anyone who asked him. I'm fairly sure we were not the only people he helped on that day a few years back.

Jimmy fell from a height of forty feet on the job today. He died on impact. I'm so sorry for his family and friends who knew him much better than I did. Our town and this world are better because he lived. I know this to be true, and I only met the guy a couple of times.