BESTSELLERS & BEST FRIENDS
My book publishing blog, with murder mysteries woven through it.
If this is your first visit, be sure to start with “1. Let’s do it!”
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It’s late. I’m just back from Pittsburgh.
I was there for Freeman’s services. They were simple. Freeman wasn’t a religious guy.
About 12 of us gathered along the Monongahela River. A mile further down from where we stood, the Monongahela joins with the Allegheny River to form the Ohio River.
Monongahela River, Pittsburgh
I stood with Rich and Matt, the three remaining writing buddies and apartment mates. Sad that one-fourth of us would never be again.
Good-bye, and here’s to New Orleans
The only family there was Joey, Freeman’s son. A couple of drinking buddies from Freeman’s favorite bar stood with a few of his newspaper colleagues. One of the reporters gave a eulogy. It was funny and irreverent. Freeman would have liked it.
Joey said a few words then tossed the ashes of a terrific writer and my best friend into the river.
Freeman always wanted to go to New Orleans, but never made it. Eight beers in and he’d imagine pushing off from Pittsburgh in a small boat with a cooler of beer.
He’d mosey down the Monongahela, into the Ohio, through Cincinnati (“I’d boo those damn Reds fans”), into the Mississippi, and down to New Orleans.
So, I thought Joey’s notion of tossing his dad’s ashes into the river was perfect. The kid was impressive. No siblings, now no parents, and seemingly no other family. He told us he’d keep the apartment, stick with college, and take it from there. Rich handed him an envelope; I assumed it contained a very generous check.
Tomorrow: The Ligonier Writers Conference (and Webcam)