Another Christmastime Goodbye
Chuck Messing, April 2013
December was the month when the old folks generally died. So wrote Willard in Oysterville: Roads to Grandpa’s Village. I thought about those words this morning when the call arrived that our friend Chuck Messing had died.
I’m pretty sure that Willard knew Chuck, but as always these days, my facts are a bit blurry. Chuck has been a fixture in Oysterville for a good many years — “at least 30” says Nyel. He lived outside of town on the way to the beach and had a home business, repairing lawnmowers — all kinds I think. He saw to it that his many customers were happy through all three mowing seasons year after year.
Most important to Oysterville, Chuck, himself, mowed lawns. He kept the Oysterville Restoration Foundation properties looking tidy for as long as I can remember and made sure that the churchyard was not only mowed every week during the growing season but that it got an extra spiffing up before each summer Vespers or wedding or other upcoming event.
Oysterville Churchyard 2006
“Anything special happening at the church this coming week?” he’d call to me from the seat of his red Sears model rider-mower. I never saw him write a note to himself or remember him to double-checking a date, but he never missed one that I know of. As his health began to deteriorate, he’d sometimes share his latest “news” — a surgery or exploratory something-or-other. He seldom complained — would just shake his head and quote my mom, “Old age ain’t for sissies, you know.”
It won’t be the same in Oysterville without you, Chuck! You were one of a kind — one of the good guys with a huge heart and a gigantic capacity for caring about the rest of us. The lawns of the Great Beyond will be the better for you being there!
That’s very sad news. Thanks for sharing the great photo of Chuck. He was just a nice guy, and would wave whenever he saw me walking out to the beach, or pull in and visit with Paul when he was out mowing. We will really miss him.
In my early arrival days on the Peninsula, I ran into Chuck and we became friends. We even had him over for dinner a couple times while mom and Starla were visiting our little cottage. Mom would make him cookies. whenever she could. One dinner time with Chuck Mom apologized because she had not ironed the white table cloth we were using and that struck Chuck in the funny bone. He just couldn’t get over that “apology for not ironing” something, which was obviously not in his realm of possibilities. We laughed about that one for the next year at least whenever we ran into each other.
I just learned about this, and it makes me sad. We had many heart to heart discussions, fun conversations, talk of logging tools (which we both liked), and general kidding around. He thought the world of Rob & they went over topics of all types, with coffee at Chuck’s. He & I caught up on the phone, now & then. And, he mowed my lawn, fixed my mowers, arranged for me to buy a mower, and stopped by to visit. It won’t be the same & I’ll miss him.