Unsufficient Words

I've had a post idea percolating in my head for a couple days, but it will wait longer for much more critical news. Just after five this evening, my father passed word that Glen Newcombe had been hit on his bike Friday, and injuries were severe such that his family chose to remove life support.

I knew Glen's name, knew I definitely knew him, even knew he wasn't the other Glen I could remember, but despite my "unbelievable" (quoting my sister, an RN with a history caring for TBI patients) recovery, it still took my brain just under two hours to connect all the dots of who Glen, alas, was.

I used to organize an event under the moniker The Detour de Connecticut, a wander off the beaten paths of eastern CT. It was a nice enough ride that only an hour in, my friend Ethan, a born and bred Vermonter, said in awe, "I like Connecticut!", but the remote reaches have few feed stop options with a lot of far between them. Conveniently, Glen lived (sigh) in the middle of one of those gaps, so I asked if he would put out some water for us.

He didn't. Instead, he put out water AND muffins, bananas, and lots of other goodies. I liked him a lot even before that, a classic, kind hearted person on a bike, but for now I will suffice with that remembrance as I continue to process the sad, sad news. Be well. Be careful.