Neil Young - After The Gold Rush

Big Lew. My word. How many games did we play together? Touch football. One-on-one hoops. Horse. 8th grade basketball team. 8th grade football. Frisbee tag at Tower Beach. The winless Crow Island football team. (Winless? Hell, we never got  a first down)  You threw a football so hard, my left little finger still sticks out a little. Just enough so that I hit the caps lock key instead of the a. So that means I get to think about Lew just ABOU . . .  about everyday.

In Fourth grade, another great friend of mine, Howie Detmer, and I were laboring under the misconception that, if you were a big, tough athlete, you had to be a hard case. It was Lew who taught us it was much better to be our own funny selves. Nobody was a bigger or better athlete than Lew. Nobody was funnier than Lew. Nobody was a better friend. 

They don't tell you at the time, but you only get so many great childhood friends.  


Rest in peace, Lew.  Incredible father of three angels and a devoted husband to beautiful Liz. You will be missed.