Writer loses words

Last night, my little brother, Vinny, called to tell me that one of the people I use to work with had died. Dave Weber had a heart attack sometime yesterday. I was at home, grilling with Fred, Bob and a few others when Tonya answered my phone. I could hardly believe it.
The reality of it faded in and out. Even after I woke up this morning, the feeling didn't completely register. I recall him being on some of the video I'd take from time to time at the office in Fort Smith. And then there are the pictures. I did several desktops for his computer. "Being Dave Weber" was my favorite along with the picture of Ali punching him in the head.
I don't know all of his history, but I do know that he was once a preacher. You could tell from the force of his voice and the way he spoke that when he was on the pulpit, there was no stopping him. From journalist, to preacher and back to journalist. What a change.
We'd talk, from time to time, when we'd go down to have a cigarette. He was always a fun guy with interesting things to say and a good sense of humor.
Several years ago, we resurrected Weberfest, a party that was held when he was working and couldn't make it, in his honor. Of course, we continued the tradition and held it when he couldn't show up. I even made a trailer for the party.
He was a good man who loved his family and cared about his work. He was always cordial and enjoyed a good joke. I can't believe he's gone.

Even though I didn't get to know you but for a brief time, thank you for sharing your life with me, Dave. You'll be missed.

-30-