I have known a lot of people in my life, but sadly, I can probably count my friends on one hand. And I am proud to say Dennis Mathews and were as close at one time as any one of them. Dennis had many that called him friend. From all walks of life. His door was open to all and he made everyone feel welcome. I had seen him around a lot, we knew a lot of the same people, but the first time I ever had a conversation with him was at the Tivoli theatre. Me and Varnell went to telethons there several times and one time he brought Dennis. We all talked all night and I remember being impressed with his candor and honesty. His general good will and how he could size up people. Great sense of humor. We were friends for only a few years but it seems like most of my young life. After high School I hardly saw him and he joined the Air Force. I heard from him very little in those years (over twenty) I was a little shocked at the change the military had made in him. We only got reacquainted a few years ago when he had that store across from the old village. I became a frequent visitor there and the one on North Ocoee. I often went to his house on 4th Ave and I saw him decline and waste. It was very hard to see this happen. I could tell a thousand stories about our misadventures back in the day, but Dennis was the story teller and i could never do them justice. I could tell of the summer of 69 when we hitchhiked to Florida and on to New Orleans. We were somewhere in south ga or maybe Alabama thumbing on the curb when I saw on a newspaper stand that the Eagle had landed. We met people of all kinds. Racist New Yorkers gays pickpockets hippies huxtors once we crashed a political rally in Mississippi in a little park in a little town. We ate shrip and craw dad's and corn and sausage and drank Jax beer till we could hardly walk. We were always hungry. We had almost no money and we stopped once at a KFC and Dennis made up a story of how we were victimes of a pick pocket in New Orleans. A lovely young black woman fed us like kings. I always meant to go back and find her to thank her again for being so good to two dirty penniless white boys. I could go on and on with that one adventure but I couldn't do it right. I told Dennis many times he should write that all down, he could have done a good job. Anyway, I miss him already and had a trip to Cleveland planned in October. I wanted to see him one more time before it was too late. But I only heard when he was already comotose. No excuse though, I should have gone up long ago. I knew he was dying even when he didnt. I'M not one to visit grave sites much. I don't think they are there. They are in our hearts, on our memories. They are always a part of us. And as the years go by they will never leave our side. Go with God, Dennis, my friend. Your pain is over forever. Sleep in heavenly peace.
