Ron Kadlec, born October 14, 1943 in Biddeford, Maine, was the son of Lela Lawrence (Anderson) of the late 1920s and early 30s Vaudeville troupe The Lawrence Family, dubbed Vaudeville’s largest and most versatile musical family consisting of parents and eleven children playing a total of 33 instruments at their peak in 1933.

Starting with music at a young age, Ron grew up a musician playing with Jimmy Gee & The Challengers in the late 1950s and early 60s and The Royal Lancers his senior year of high school. He soon enough would record his first solo record, Brace Yourself, in 1978, the year his older brother Dick passed away at age 38.

After conquering the ambulance EMT, police dispatcher, and music recording scenes in the 70s along with being featured in hundreds of newspapers across the nation in 1977 while still working as an EMT, he would later go on to teach himself to paint by watching Bob Ross throughout the following decade. Ron primarily painted nature scenes, many resembling the state in which he grew up in and lived. He often sold his paintings cheaply both from home, where passing tourists and locals stopped in for raspberries, and at a local market where his artwork lining the store walls targeted the many tourists from neighbouring Québec and beyond featuring ocean and forest scenes of Maine.

Though he grew up with polio from age two, a disease that left him unable to use his legs and requiring both leg braces and crutches, he adapted to succeed in many of the life milestones he was told he’d likely never achieve, including swimming and driving a car, among others.

While purely out of spite, he defeated the polio that limited him throughout his life, but would later die in 2015 of complications from pneumonia brought on by decades of smoking. In his words, at least he died from something he enjoyed.

Singing Dispatcher produces album

By Connie Footman, LEWISTON EVENING JOURNAL, April 4, 1979

LISBON FALLS, MAINE — Ron Kadlec, the former “Singing Dispatcher” who gave up his job to devote full-time to his first love, music, is finding himself and his group, Smith and Company, in demand for personal appearances and engagements following the release of his latest original, an album “Brace Yourself” on the TIKI label.

The thirty-five-year-old Kadlec, who was crippled by polio as a small child, defied doctor’s predictions and learned to walk with crutches after numerous operations and has been singing and recording his original music with his own group since the age of 15.

Although “Brace Yourself” is his first album, Kadlec has recorded several other records with some degree of success. Brace Yourself, which contains ten of his original compositions, took a full 10 months of sometimes 16-hour days, to perfect and record on Kadlec’s own TIKI label of Lisbon Falls. It contains a mixture of country music, rock, disco and contemporary. Kadlec says he thinks the variety of music on the program is one of the reasons his album is being received so well by young and old alike. “Every number is different; there’s something for everyone in that one album,” he says.

Kadlec has been playing professionally for 16 years and writing his own songs even before that time. He says music is in his blood and can’t think of anything else he would rather be doing.

As of mid-March, Kadlec and his group were booked at the Cellar Door in Sanford for a full month and they now have bookings right through to late summer.

In addition to Kadlec, who plays lead guitar and is the vocalist for the album, he is accompanied by Smith and Company, a group of four brothers from the Sanford area who provide back-up vocals and what he describes as “fantastic instruments.” On the drums is David, Tony on the bass, Terry at the electric piano, with Norman playing the organ, clarinet, and flute, while all the brothers sing, adding to their versatility.

Since the release of his album at the end of February, Kadlec and Smith and Company have taken to the road, appearing at various nightspots and clubs through Maine and they expect to be going into the New England area later.

Although he may be “putting Lisbon Falls on the map” in the world of music, few people get to see Kadlec around town these days due to his tight schedule of promotions, personal appearances and bookings. They can purchase his album at most any music store, which he is hoping they will do, and hear a talented man doing what he loves the most despite a severe physical handicap that would have kept an ordinary person in a wheelchair for life.

  Read more articles about Ron Kadlec

Brace Yourself: Side A

1. Lonely

Ron Kadlec: guitar, Frank Wentworth: drums, bass, keyboards; Jay Girard: acoustic guitar, Edward Boucher: strings, flute; Mike Thompson: background vocals, Kathy Fuller: background vocals, soprano; Leigh Hunt: compositions; Marti (Hunt) Hill: lyrics

(Lonely)
As twilight comes
and awakens my sleep
I lie and I watch
shadows dance at my feet
I’m lonely for you
so very lonely

I lie and I think
and I try to forget
try to forget
that first day that we met
I’m lonely for you
so very lonely (lonely)

It never happened to me before
I never loved anyone more
but now it seems I can’t erase
the memory of your face

Many nights pass
and I try to forget
but I can’t let go of memories
and I can’t forget
that I’m lonely for you
so very lonely (lonely)

It never happened to me before
I never loved anyone more
but now it seems I can’t erase
the memory of your face

Many nights pass
and I try to forget
but I can’t let go of memories
and I can’t forget
that I’m lonely for you
so very lonely (lonely)

So very lonely (lonely)
So very lonely (lonely)

2. It’s Getting Old

Buddy Bedell: drums, percussion, background vocal; Norman Smith: keyboards, Edward Boucher: bass, lead guitar, strings

You’re making me live
with no reason
you’re making me work
with no cause
existing in this world
just to do what I’m told
living just for you
it’s getting old

Words can’t explain
this awful loneliness
words can’t express
this terrible pain
you know that you’re using me
making me wait, it’s getting old

You know one of these days,
I’ll set myself free
no longer a slave
bound in misery
but what I have to do
that you feel for so long
and a mind can’t be changed

I’m now and at last free
I’m now and at last free

You’re making me live
with no reason
you’re making me work
with no cause
existing in this world
just to do what I’m told
Living just for you
it’s getting old

It’s getting old
it’s getting old

3. The Sea

Buddy Bedell: drums, percussion, background vocal; Norman Smith: keyboard, flute, background vocal; Don Smith: guitar, percussion, background vocal; Mike Thompson: percussion, Darlene Rose: percussion, Edward Boucher: bass

Before me the sea
and about me the night
as I lie on the sand
I’ve come to the beach
as often I do
when the sun is retired
and the sky is not blue

For years I have come here
for years I have known
the same eerie scene
when the seagulls have flown

From the far end of time
that has just been the same
the moon rose and fell
the sea went and came

Through time and beyond
whatever wars are fought
It simply shall be here
but I, I may not
but I, I may not

The womb of my being
is here in this place
so vast and yet warming
is her embrace
so precious and fragile
is this life of mine
how thankful I am
to have been given this time

4. Flickering Shadows

Don Smith: acoustic, lead, rhythm guitar; David Smith: drums, Norman Smith: keyboards, Mike Giasson: bass

Flickering shadow, shadows of the past
flickering the memories, the memories it can cast
of love, of hope, of days gone by
of a time when my hopes would die

Flickering shadow, shadows of the past
flickering all this memories, the memories that will last
it was only abode, a time ago
but our love just couldn’t grow old

Feelings of true love
if only they would last
but not through the shade,
no light will pass
of the love I knew before so bad
when you look into love’s deep cavern
you see nothing but the past

Flickering shadow, shadows of the past
flickering the memories, the memories it can cast
of love, of hope, of days gone by
of a time when my hopes would die

Flickering shadow, shadows of the past
flickering shadow, shadows of the past
flickering shadow, shadows of the past
shadows of the past…

Flickering shadow, shadows of the past
shadows of the past…

5. There’s Always Tomorrow

David Smith: drums, Mike Giasson: bass, Norman Smith: keyboards, strings, horns, vibes; Don Smith: guitar

When I want you and can’t see you
you say there’s tomorrow
When you need me and can’t have me
there’s always tomorrow

We both agree and can also see
what today might be
there’s always tomorrow

Tomorrows are the days we look forward to
for today I’m alone but tomorrow I’m with you
for yesterday and today we together can see
for there’s always tomorrow
just for you and me

Why do we wait ever so long?
is it our love that might be wrong?
I doubt it, can’t you see?
’cause there’s always you and me
tomorrow, tomorrow my love
there’s always tomorrow

Why do we wait ever so long?
is it our love that might be wrong?
I doubt it, can’t you see?
’cause there’s always you and me
tomorrow, tomorrow my love
there’s always tomorrow

“Ron Kadlec, a crippled medical technician, borrowed money and invested his life savings so his hometown could have volunteer ambulance service. Kadlec, who lives on disability and was cripped by polio at age two, borrowed $1,600 and invested $1,100 life savings so the group could buy the ambulance.”

– United Press International, October 31, 1977

* Accounting for inflation, the $2,700 put forth in 1977 is the equivalent to $11,300 today.

Brace Yourself: Side B

1. Paint Mine Blue

David Smith: drums, Don Smith: acoustic guitar, Norman Smith: keyboards, piano; Darlene Rose: background vocal, Merle Record: steel guitar, Edward Boucher: bass

Paint me a picture of our love
what colors will you use?
paint mine gray or blue
what are the colors for you?

When you paint the picture of our love
remember always be true
go deep into your mind, heart, and soul
and tell me the colors for you

I still love you with all my heart
even though I know we’re through
but all my dreams are colored sunny and bright
because I always dream of you

Paint me a picture of our love
if your mind tells you it’s true
but until then, when you think of me
paint mine blue

Paint me a picture of our love
if your mind tells you it’s true
but until then, when you think of me
paint mine blue

paint mine blue
paint mine blue

2. How Long Is Forever

Don Smith: lead, acoustic guitar; David Smith: drums, Norman Smith: keyboard, strings; Edward Boucher: bass; Leigh Hunt: composition, lyrics

So tell me
how long is forever?
For I can never
hold you in my arms

Tell me
is it true
I’ll only
love you in my dreams
that’s the way it seems

How long must I go on praying
that someday you’ll be saying words
so soft and low and only meant for me

How long must the fire burn
and must I always deeply yearn?
that this fantasy will one day come true

Must I always hear your voice
telling me you have no choice
other than to turn and walk away?
walk away
walk away

So tell me
how long is forever?
for I can never walk away from you

And tell me
is it true
I’ll only
love you in my dreams
that’s the way it seems

So tell me
how long is forever?
forever loving you
forever loving you
forever loving you

3. I’m A Fool

Paul Caron: strings, Edward Boucher: bass, double lead guitar; Norman Smith: keyboard, Don Smith: acoustic, lead guitar; David Smith: drums

It seems a shame
my love remains
the flame inside
will never die
’cause I’m a fool
to go on loving you

I hear your name
it seems the same
makes me sigh,
break down and cry
’cause I’m a fool
to go on loving you

Now one time you loved me
you said I meant all
but now that you left me
I’m nothing at all

I might forget
we ever met
I wish I could
but what’s the good
’cause I’m a fool
to go on loving you

Now one time you loved me
you said I meant all
but now that you left me
I’m nothing at all

I might forget
we ever met
I wish I could
but what’s the good?
’cause I’m a fool
to go on loving you

a fool to go on loving you
a fool, such a fool
for loving you

4. The Inscription

Mike Thompson: drums, Jay Girard: guitar, Ron Kadlec: guitar, Edward Boucher: guitar, bass, strings

There was a wedding ring on your finger
as though it were yesterday
now it’s removed sadly
as if it were today
the inscription said I loved you
and now and then I prayed
I’ll remember those letters clearly
as if tomorrow were yesterday

The day we were married
was running through my mind
those letters, oh those letters,
etched as one of a kind
now I wonder
if the truth within those rings still lie
on someone else’s mind today
then I slowly sigh

It was more than yesterday
less than tomorrow they said
as we love one another truly
until the day our love was dead
oh, to bring back those happy times
when we both could have said
to each other we will promise
what those letters really said

Oh to bring back those happy times
when we both could have said
to each other we will promise
what those letters really said
really said
really said
really said

5. Why

Paul Caron: strings, Norman Smith: keyboards, Don Smith: guitar, David Smith: drums, Edward Boucher: bass

Why do we keep our love from shining?
why do we always go our separate ways?
why do I keep on loving you, darling?
because I don’t want it to end this way

I say, why do we keep our love from growing?
and why do you always have to run away?
why do I keep on loving you, darling?
’cause I don’t want it to end this way

Why, why do I love you so?
why, why, I think you know

So tell me why do we keep our love from growing?
and why do you always run away?
why, why, why do I keep on loving you baby?
’cause I don’t want it to end this way
’cause I don’t want it to end this way
’cause I don’t want it to end this way

“Brace Yourself” Album Notes

Let me tell you about Kadlec’s “Krutch.” I first observed it at a Pal Hop (police activities league), at the Lewiston City Hall back in ’64 or ’65. It was helping to support a young man, who apparently had a disability of some sort, which I many years later found out had been due to an affliction of polio contracted at the age of 2 years old. I never met that red-sport-jacketed vocalist-guitarist until more than a dozen years later when a former Gary and the Counts group member called me about making a record. Ron came to my office and I remembered him well. He still had the “krutch”… so did I.

As a solo artist without full-time musicians of his own, doing an album could have turned out being a difficult, if not an impossible, undertaking. But lo and behold, the musicians came forth and in the past 10 months, the recording of “Brace Yourself” has been privileged by the performance of many talented and dedicated people who rendered their assistance unselfishly to help insure the success of this project. To us, the participants and collaborators of “Brace Yourself,” music is a “krutch.” We love it, we need it, we depend on it, and we take pride in making it. So, from Ronny T. “Krutch” Kadlec, expect the unexpected… “Brace Yourself.”

Edward Boucher, president
E.A.B. Recording Studios,
Lewiston, Maine

This inspiring album is a combination of creativity, love, effort, talent, and countless hours headlined by Ron’s wonderfully unique and refreshing style of writing and performing. Each song conveys feeling and sound all its own. It’s here for you to enjoy and become addicted to. I can’t wait for the next one.

Love always,
Darlene Rose
Nashville, Tenn.

Recorded at E.A.B. Recording Studios, Lewiston, Maine
All Selections: Published by Sparky Music BMI
TK 102247 33 1/3 RPM, Stereo
Tiki Records, P.O. Box 123, Lisbon Falls, Maine

Ron Kadlec (1943-2015)

BIDDEFORD, MAINE — Ronny Thomas Kadlec, 71, of Biddeford, passed away on May 15, 2015 surrounded by his loving family.

Born Oct. 14, 1943 in Biddeford, he attended Old Orchard Beach High School.

Ron was preceded in death by: his mother, Lela Anderson; father, Charles Anderson; and brother, Richard Lawrence Kadlec.

Against all odds, Ron led an interesting and versatile life. Afflicted by polio at the age of two, the doctors said he would not live past 30. When everyone else told him he couldn’t do something, he said, “Oh yeah!?”

“You’ll never ride a bicycle,” but he did. “You can’t drive a car,” but he did. “You’ll never get your lifesaving certificate,” but he did and more: a scuba diving license. Certified as an EMT, he started an ambulance service in Lisbon Falls and worked as a police dispatcher.

Known as the “singing dispatcher,” he gave up his job to devote himself to his first love, music.

As an accomplished musician, he released his first album, “Brace Yourself,” on the Tiki label.

Inspired by Bob Ross, Ron taught himself to paint with an emphasis on landscapes, lighthouses and flowers; winning his first entry in the Portland Sidewalk Art Festival.

Ron had such an incredible sense of humor; his favorite saying was always, “That’s about as funny as a rubber crutch in a Polio ward.”

The family wants to thank Southern Maine Health Care and EIM for their wonderful, loving and compassionate care for Ron and support for the family. His doctors were so impressed with his will to live, and were amazed he could get as much out of that body as anyone could. Ron will be missed but remembered by many.

When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me
Shed not a tear in a gloom-filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little, but not too long,
And not with your head bowed low.
But remember the love that once was shared
Miss me … But let me go.

“Life sucks and then you die.”

When my father “passed away” in 2015, I wasn’t able to attend his funeral due to being caught in a work visa dispute at home in Seoul. My year was already disastrous, so news that my dad was ill and then died soon after was just another day. My dad always said “life sucks and then you die!” For most of our lives, we both saw the world much through the eyes of George Carlin. You don’t “pass away;” you just fucking die! It’s as simple as that.

As I didn’t live nearby due to the typical situation of family divorces, I didn’t often see my dad, not even frequently in my childhood. It wasn’t his fault; he was always there for me, always made sure to support me no matter who I was and what I believed in and he always made sure I knew that and knew that he loved me. And when we did get together, he made sure it was a memorable time, whether it was a day at the local amusement park – Funtown USA – fishing at the pond, or days-long poker tournaments. But my dad battled depression, addiction, and was generally as pessimistic as fuck about life. Frankly, he is myself, or perhaps you could say I am him. You could argue I’m quite qualified to tell the other side to his story.

Though he was increasingly distant and distracted by life in his later years, we had a general understanding: if he lost his independence due to his polio, i.e. if he ended up in a nursing home, he’d take his own life. Just that simple. He tolerated the wheelchair, was pissed off into oblivion that they took his driver’s license away, but found meaning in taking care of his cat, Tiki, as well as socializing with a group of friends he liked to smoke a bowl with outside, often. He was the center of the social scene at his apartment complex, so it’s no surprise… when he was gone, the picnic table seats that were once crowded day and night soon ceased to be filled. It turned out he was the anchor that held the community together, a community that was no stranger to comings and goings.

I’m not sad that my father died, not now and not then. We joked about the fact that he was in such poor health twenty years prior that he was supposed to have been dead years before. I counted myself as lucky that he was the cockroach he truly was on this Earth: stubborn, persistent, and not scared to give life the middle finger when necessary. He did it when he got polio and with every challenge presented to him from then onward.

He later attained a handful of years of independence thanks to his sister Patty and her husband Buff (see below for his words) who helped him with everything from medications and trips to the doctor to well-being checks and keeping him company. After all, when you’re in a wheelchair, when you fall, sometimes you really can’t get up.

Had I attended my father’s funeral, this is what I would have said. To his brothers and sisters, they had a lifetime of memories. But for me, my dad was the one who taught me not only how to play poker when I was seven, but how to thoroughly kick his ass at it as we watched Stephen King horror movies and talked about girls until 3 in the morning, smelling the campfires from Bayley’s Campground next door before it became a behemoth camping resort.

Perhaps all the times I shook his beer waiting patiently for the one time he’d forget to let it settle down so I could watch an epic explosion of malt covering every inch of the room. Or maybe all the hours we’d lie in bed at night giggling about nonsense or farting at each other. One could perchance recall my first hangover at age seven after discreetly taking a hundred sips of beer beside the campfire, an ample lesson learned. Everyone else can give uplifting stories about the hurdles of life, but this was the guy I knew and grew up with. He wasn’t there, but he was always available when I needed him.

I always told my dad when I left for my sixteen-hour drive home: “I won’t be sad if it’s the last time we see each other.” I say what I think and spend time with people while they’re alive. They could be gone tomorrow. I always left happy with the time we spent together; there was no unfinished business or unfulfilled plans.

Appreciate your friends and family while they’re with you. Tell them how you feel and what you think. When they’re gone, well, they’re gone. Wait, actually that’s when they finally become appreciated, idolized, noticed, even posthumously famous. I suppose just because you’re gone doesn’t mean your story has ended.

Ron was the “tallest of them all”

Ron’s youngest sister Jackie tells her stories about her older brother:

I am the youngest of us five kids. There was our beloved brother Dicky, Ronny, and then us girls: Kathy, Patty, and I, so Ron and I were ten years apart. While that doesn’t seem like all that much, it does mean I had a different type of relationship with my brother. My sisters could probably tell you more about his younger and more mischievous years:

About the big snowball fights in the yard, about Ron playing his red Gibson guitar on stage at the high school dances, about him riding on the back of Byron’s motorcycle to the movies and Rapid Rays with his crutch Henry across his lap, making it very interesting when bobbing between cars, or apparently about taking my older sisters to the clubs where he played!

But not me, the little sister, I guess… You see, I have my own unique perspective about my brother Ron. After thinking a lot about what I wanted to say this morning, I kept coming back to the thought about Ronny being “the tallest of them all.” Obviously, those who know Ronny well know he wasn’t physically tall — we always joked that he was supposed to be, supposed to be taller than my brother Dicky. But more important than being physically tall, he was tall in spirit.

Ron had a unique set of challenges in his life to overcome, more than most. But true to his “tall” spirit, he didn’t let that define him, nor is that what I want people to remember about him. He accomplished more in his life than many could only imagine or have the courage to take on and he charted his own course. This is what I would like him to be remembered for.

 

Ron had a kind heart and a very trusting soul. You could see it in his kind eyes, just like our mom. When he smiled, he was the tallest of them all.

He had a great sense of humor and ability to laugh, even at himself. You know, like the time he complained of that pain in his side when it was really just that fork in his bed poking at him. A funny guy with a lot of one-liners and looks, he was the tallest of them all.

He was an excellent musician, particularly on both the guitar and the trumpet, and was a talented artist as you can see from the wonderful paintings all around us. A true creative, he was the tallest of them all.

Ronny was an EMT, a watchmaker, and at one point even started and owned his own jewelry store. Dicky would have been so proud of Ron and told him “job well done!” As he took on many adventurous jobs and trades, he was the tallest of them all.

In addition, Ron had a very strong will to live, all the way up to the moment we lost him. Even in his final days, he was the tallest of them all.

I can hear Ron now saying “… if you say so! …” so yes, Ron, I say so! You were the tallest of them all. You defined who you were, decided your own direction in life, and set your own sail; and for that, we are forever grateful.

 

So to close this, here is a poem for you. It’s called “The Winds of Fate” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox:

One ship drives east and another drives west
With the selfsame winds that blow
Tis the set of the sails
And not the gales
Which tells us the way to go.

Like the winds of the seas are the ways of fate,
As we voyage along through the life:
Tis the set of a soul
That decides its goal,
And not the calm or the strife.

“Ancient Egyptians,” a eulogy by Dick Buffum:

Dick “Buff” Buffum had the honour of composing Ron’s eulogy at his 2015 funeral. I’d almost been afraid they’d have asked me to write one had I actually been in town. Stories of poker, beer, and bedtime chats galore. Instead, Buff outlined it all perfectly from my father’s distinct life phases to his personality: discreet kindness and stubbornness with a side of sarcastic asshole. There truly could have been no better people to take care of my father than Buff and Patty, and with that, no better person to write a eulogy:

Two things for sure Ron would want with him on the other side.

His cat Tiki. Patty bought him Tiki about 6 years ago when Ron found out he could no longer walk. Ron moaned and groaned – said he didn’t want a cat – didn’t need a cat. But truth be told – Tiki is what Ron lived for. He’d feed that cat twice a day and sometimes in between in the later years (his short term memory was going). No matter how Ron felt, he’d crawl out of bed to take care of the cat – that was the first thing on his mind in the morning and the last thing on his mind at night. They were inseparable. Sorry Ron – you can’t take Tiki but I do have pictures of him for you to take on your journey and those will have to do until it is time for him to join you.

The second thing Ron would want and is going to get is Henry (the name he gave his old wooden crutch). This here is Henry. Henry has been by Ron’s side (literally) his whole life. Henry was there when Ron graduated from Old Orchard Beach High School, Henry was there when Ron played guitar at the Palace as lead in for such famous artists as Eric Burden and the Animals, The Zombies, The Beach Boys. Henry was there for Ron’s years as a dispatcher and EMT in Lisbon Falls; when Ron owned his own jewelry store, when he worked at Youland’s Jewelry, when he went fishing at Millikin Mills Pond, when he cut his album. If you saw Ron, you saw Henry. So Ron, here is your friend – your support – Henry – to take with you on the journey.

Those were the things Ron would want – I’ve got a few other things that I think he will be glad to have. You have to realize that my introduction to Ron was this mysterious voice calling down from the second floor at Holly St. – not unlike Horowitz’s mother in the sitcom The Big Bang Theory (Ron loved that show).

Ma – can you bring me something to eat!?
Ma – can you bring me a beer!?

So Ron, I hear you calling and what road trip would be complete without a beer.

 

The years at Holly St. were his dark years – his hermit years. It was a chore to get him to come down on holidays and be with the family. If he didn’t come down, people would venture up one by one to say hi – kind of like going to visit the Pope. Although he mostly kept to himself, there were things he liked to do.

Heather reminded me that one was playing cards with PaPa. I suspect that PaPa is waiting for Ron so I want Ron to be prepared – Ron, here is a deck of cards and a baggie of pennies – good luck – you’ll need it playing with Charlie.

And painting… he was very prolific in spending a lot of time in front of his easel. He would produce paintings, PaPa would make frames and they would sell his artwork to summer tourists who came by to buy raspberries.

So Ron, here is the canvas that you left unfinished when you left. I kidded Ron a lot when a canvas would sit there with nothing on it for a few days. He told me that just like writers who get writers block, artists get blocked too and that something would eventually come up. Well Ron, I know it will and when it does, I know it will be beautiful.

 

I really got to know Ron in the years after PaPa passed. Patty told him she would watch out for and take care of him and that she did. We found him an apartment not far from our house which proved to be a godsend because not only was it convenient but Ron met some great people there and became friends with many – coming out of his dark years and becoming the Ron everyone knew before. He painted – he played cards – he drove his car, he socialized: he would sit outside at the picnic table at the complex with his friends talking, joking, telling stories. I’d drive by, toot, wave – he’d wave back. I’m going to miss that.

Ron wanted to be independent and Patty and I did everything in our power to support that wish. Ron eventually, however, found himself confined to a wheelchair – his polio advancing and threatening to take his independence. That was very tough for him to take but he moved on and made the best of it.

Patty got him to come to holidays at our house – even Thanksgiving! He grumbled about it but would call in the morning to see what time I was picking him up so I know deep down he enjoyed those times a lot.

His activity diminished over the years and winters were tough for him. During those months, he loved to watch TV. They would have these marathons of a show on all day and he would watch from beginning to end. It didn’t matter what time it was, he’d call us and when I answered, he’d ask why I answered the phone and I’d tell him I lost the coin toss. He’d laugh. He’d call to tell us a particular show was on or ask what channel something was on. I’d say, Ron, you’ve got the TV Guide!! He’d say it was out of date or make some excuse – we knew that his calling was just an excuse to talk because he was lonely so it was okay. I already miss those calls. Ron is the only person I know who actually has a subscription to TV Guide. So Ron, here’s a TV Guide for you – it’s out of date but you can always give us call.

 

I could go on for a lot longer with stories but time is short so I want to leave you with this:

This is a cribbage board for Ron. Cribbage is a great game and Ron loved to play it. Cribbage is a game where you are dealt 6 cards and have to play with those six cards – you have to play with the hand you are dealt!!! Isn’t that what Ron did his whole life? He wasn’t dealt a very good hand in life but he played with the hand he was dealt and he played to the fullest.

It is for that reason I send with Ron these final two things: my undying respect for his strength in the face of adversity and my everlasting love for the brother-in-law who became my brother.