Today was Harry's memorial. About as good as a memorial could get, a celebration of Harry's life actually. Harry had a lot of good friends in the fly fishing and steelheading world. Some good stories told, mostly about fishing, fly tying, travel, and good food. A hearty toast of single malt was raised to Harry's memory, followed by sharing more stories. At least a couple stories of Harry's disdain for indicators and bobbers and the inevitable jokes that were necessary to capitalize on that.

The guy was an artist. He tied flies that are perfect in appearance. I've held and cast bamboo rods he re-finished - to perfection of course. When he got into tying exhibition flies, he also made his own shadow frame boxes for them as well. Wood working, also done perfectly. A craftsman, an artisan.

I'm glad I knew Harry before he was "famous." I don't think I would have been so comfortable in our friendship had I known him as someone other than "just Harry." A few others in the assembled group agreed. Harry would have too. He wasn't comfortable in that kind of role, and was most uncomfortable whenever someone acted as though he were a celebrity. Marlene, his wife, assured us she will attend the Christmas party this year, and that is good to look forward to. I'll hear Harry's Rhode Island accent in my mind for years to come.

Sg