Letters

I just turned 76 years old and I often feel like I’m 100. I mourn many things, but the loss of my friends is the most painful.

I often think that the word “gentleman” is one of the most overused, but that said, I have the honor of looking back over the years and can gratefully say, that I have met only five gentlemen who not only impacted my life in large and small ways but left an indelible mark on me as a human being.

Each of them was very different, but each of them seemed to share one thing in common: they were in possession of gentle souls. They seldom, if ever, seemed to raise their voices above a normal conversational tone, and yet they always seemed to get things done without shouting.

I can certainly start my list by including my father, Clarence Vrana. I only heard him raise his voice to my mother once. And, my dad being my dad, 10 minutes later he was apologizing.

The next person I’d like to mention was Harry Lillywhite, co-owner, with his wife, of Lillywhite’s Toy Store. What he did made him proud, and it showed.

My next gentleman was Ray Orts. Ray was the principal of Southampton Grade School, and while he ran the school with a confident command, he seldom had to exercise it by raising his voice.

My fourth gentleman was Richard Spooner. He was also a neighbor and was the principal of the then new high school. That is no small task but somehow he was able to make it all work.

As I look back over all these men, the real regret I have is there is never really an adequate way to tell them how much you admire them. There is, however, one guy I was able to do that with: Irl Flanagan. I have many, many stories, especially about his character, but I don’t think it’s surprising in that we just lost him the other day, at age 99.

I can tell you that he meant so much to me that we spoke almost every other week since I graduated in 1966 and have ever since. Somewhere along the way, he became the main subject of my novel “Imperial,” and as I referred to him in that book as “Curmudgeon” and started calling himself “Mudge.”

I lost my father years ago and no longer have any “real family” but as my wife mentioned to me the other day, “It was like loving my father again.” I have never been religious, but all I can hope for is that they somehow find each other. Knowing each of them, they will.

Ken Vrana

Cary, North Carolina