Years ago — nearly fifteen — I was taking my last bi-annual flight review with a friend. We were flying out of Whiteman Airport and when we finished it was near dark. As we taxiied back to our FBO and shut down, we saw a guy who was trying to put a log book back into Rusty’s mail slot.
My friend, who is much shorter than I, started a conversation with this guy. We all new Rusty reasonably as customers so I was surprised to hear that this guy was flying at night by himself, trying to build hours before he had a gig.
I thought, geez who is this guy? I mean, he was short but built like a lifeguard.
We helped him out and he went on his way. After he went my friend turned to me in surprise and said, “You don’t know who that was?”
I said, “No.”
“That was Patrick Swayze,” my friend said, shaking his head. You see, as I said, my friend was shorter and so he saw Mr. Swayze at the same height I saw him on the big screen and instantly recognized him. Me, I saw this short buff lifeguard-looking guy.
When I heard that he had pancreatic cancer I was rooting for him. He was a nice guy, not pretentious, just trying to get his pilot’s license. He didn’t brag, swagger or “act the maggot” (as we say in Ireland).
I’m sorry that he lost his battle: he was a good guy and he didn’t deserve to go that way, not at all.
I’ll remember him as much for that dusky-night encounter as I will for his brilliant performance in “Ghost” and “Dirty Dancing.”
With all these great people going, I sometimes think that the world is a dimmer place.
But then I realize that none of them would have me say that. Instead, I’m certain that they’d all say that it’s up to us now, it’s up to us to pull together, to remember what they gave us, to never forget and to become more than we have been.
That’s really the only way to honor their memory.
So here’s to you, Patrick Swayze. We’ll carry on, sadder but emboldened by your example, we’ll take the torch, we’ll keep the fires burning, we will not tarnish your memory.
Rest well, we can take it from here.