A few more thoughts about TK, who will be laid to rest this weekend, at home in Iowa.

Because of work, The Wife and I weren’t able to stay in Columbus for the funeral service, but from what I understand it was a perfect tribute to a guy who touched an awful lot of people’s souls. As much laughing as there was crying, from what I’ve heard.

And that’s just exactly perfect.

I was amazed, but not completely surprised, by the number of people who came by the funeral home for the calling hours the day before. TK’s younger son told me, with just a little pride evident, that the funeral home had to add pages to the book we all signed because so many people showed up.

Many folks who came by knew TK only socially, as he and Aunt Mary kept up with friends along Henderson Road, even after TK’s drinking days were long past. And that got me thinking — TK was so warm, so memorable and embracing that even drinking buddies (and non-drinking buddies, later on) felt compelled to stop and pay their respects.

And that led me to this, my final tribute to TK, and to all of those he left behind:

Boys In The Barroom, Robert Hunter

Does God look down on the boys in the barroom,
Mainly forsaken, but surely not judged?
Jacks, kings and aces, their faces in wine —
Do Lord deliver our kind

From singing for whiskey
Three strings on a fiddle
Four on the guitar
And a song that I love
Many’s the night spent
Picking and singing
In hopes it be pleasing
Both here and above

Jack string fiddle to my sawtooth bow
Who loves loneliness loves it alone
I love the dim lights like some love the dew
Only thing I wonder sometimes —

Does God look down on the boys in the barroom
Mainly forsaken but surely not judged?
Jacks, kings and aces, their faces in wine —
Do Lord deliver our kind