Dear Editor: 
 
The world must have known it was his last day. The weather, the wind, and the water all went crazy. It was as if they became unmoored and cast themselves against their restraints. Tall trees were stripped of their branches and many fell. Anything not tied down was moved around. And the ocean clearly grew tired of its boundaries and raged against the land, the sea walls, and the rocks that kept it bound. 
 
Yes, they must have known, for only grief could have caused them to act so wildly, so uncivilly, so wantonly. 
 
They knew what we did not know until after they had spent their sadness and anger raging. Only then did the news come as we sat amidst the damage and disarray. Only then did we find out that he had left this world, and left behind a vacuum. And the world abhorred that vacuum and filled it with its grief. 
 
All the time we knew him, he filled us with laughter. It was his merchandise, his stock in trade. All the time we knew him, he made us smile and shake our heads and stop what we were doing at the moment because we were temporarily disabled by laughter. In response to him, in response to his character, in response to the force of goodness he was, we would simply laugh. What else was possible? What else was there to do? 
 
Oh, Mike. What have you done? Where have you gone? You have left us…alone and sad. When others have died, it is often said they were unique, they were one of a kind.  But Mike, those phrases were created for you. There just wasn’t anyone like you. And I fear there will not be again. 
 
Oh Mike. You are gone. And we feel the pang of loss just as the weather, the wind, and the water.

Skip Simonds

Southport