Earlier this week Michelle and I got the call that we had been dreading for way too long. Our dear friend known for his integrity, compassion and ability to get things done lost a battle with an opponent that paid no regard to any of those qualities. Cancer was his foe, and in a world where the odds of surviving this foe grow greater every day, too often it is still unstoppable.
There was no way to win this battle. Any sense of victory would have to come from the way he faced the world and fought the battle with the usual tenacity and calm air of dignity around him. He can claim that victory.
The battle took place over months and brought out a cast of characters to lend support in every imaginable way. Too numerous to name everyone here, it included his son Matthew, Jill Kirk and Kathy Sullivan who need to be mentioned for all of the difficult decisions and daily toil.
Everyone involved in the battle could now be considered family because the man engendered that kind of bond amongst a group that otherwise might not have naturally gravitated to each other. I guess that is what some people can do. I hope this is something everyone can understand since I wouldn’t have if I had not been involved.
I know in the coming days we will hear about what a great statesman he was and how much he gave to the community and what an inspiration he is, and I think they would all be true. But what matters to me was who he was as a person.
So often in public someone would come up and say, “Remember me? I met you at so-and-so working on this-or-that…” And he would always take the time to engage them—or even better, if he didn’t have the time he expressed that in a way that I could only dream of.
He was honest about his time and if you got any you got it all.
We both loved good food and a fine glass of wine, and we shared many—usually with a gathering of friends with varied and energetic conversations.
Even the quietest of moments are remembered, maybe now the most.
He was also a man that suffered more pain than most. He had lost his first wife to a debilitating disease that lingered for too many years before exacting its final toll. He lost his second wife to an insidious disease that also lingered but had more than physical effects which he had to deal with that hurt him so much inside. The final blow which was so unfair was the recent loss of his beloved Nika, his canine companion who was also the vessel that carried so many fond reminders of his last wife. Is there any fairness?
But you would never guess that this man had experienced so much inequity from his approach to life.
Holidays, birthdays and those other special occasions will now be a little hollow. Discussions regarding city politics, the Downtown Association, or which flavor gelato is best will be missing a voice.
The sun will come up, darkness will fall, we will laugh, we will cry, we will go on. But life will never be quite the same.
Dennis Kennedy has left the room.
John McKay is a Morgan Hill resident, Interim President of the Downtown Association, city planning commissioner and co-founder of the Morgan Hill Tourism Alliance.
