Bart Blauser, RIP

I’d like to take a moment here to note the passing of Bart Blauser, who was Krissy’s uncle, earlier this month, and whose life we celebrated yesterday at a memorial service with family and friends. Pretty simply, Bart was a fine example of “salt of the earth”: A good and decent man who loved his family and friends, enjoyed working the soil in his garden and farm, who worked hard and who, in my experience, treated everyone with kindness and friendliness. He also threw an excellent July 4th party every year, complete with pig roast, volleyball and a late night fire, around which people would gather and bring guitars.

There’s more to him than those things, of course, but those things are enough to give you a glimpse of why there is one less good man on the planet, who was loved, and who will be missed. May his spirit rest well.

23 Comments on “Bart Blauser, RIP”

  1. So sorry for your loss!

  2. Also sorry for your loss, and thanks for telling us about him. It’s good to know there are such people.

  3. My sympathies to all of you who will miss him. We lost an uncle last year who might have been Bart Blauser’s spiritual twin, and it’s left a hole in the family that will be difficult to fill.

  4. “A good and decent man who loved his family and friends… and who, in my experience, treated everyone with kindness and friendliness.”

    If people are able to say such things about me after my passing, my life will have been a success.

    Rest well, Mr. Blauser.

  5. Sounds like he was good people. Sorry for you, and for the rest of us never getting to one of his 7/4 parties.

  6. So very sorry. The hits just keep on coming for you and yours. I hope the stories you shared yesterday brought you some joy and comfort.

  7. JunkChuck – Westsylvania, PA, USA – Native, Militant Westsylvanian (the first last best place), laborer, gardener, and literary hobbyist (if by literary you mean "hack"). I've had a bunch of different blogs, probably four, due to a recurring compulsion to start over. This incarnation owes to a desire to dredge up the best entries of the worst little book of hand-scrawled poems I could ever dream of writing, salvageable excerpts from fiction both in progress and long-abandoned. and a smattering of whatever the hell seems to fit at any particular moment. At first blush, I was here just to focus on old, terrible verse, but I reserve the right to include...anything. Maybe everything, certainly my love of pulp novels, growing garlic, the Pittsburgh Steelers and howling at the moon--both figuratively and, on rare occasions, literally.

    I’ve lost some folks over the past few years, some expected and some that I expected to outlive me, and it never gets easier. I feel for you, brother. It’s good you guys have those memories–it hurts just as much to smile in mourning as it does to cry, but still…..

  8. Condolences to you and yours. Remember him, and drink to his name in happy times. In Diet Coke, if you must.

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