An occupational hazard of falling to the ranks of the occassional blogger:
Too often it seems, I'm here only to commemorate those who have passed, those who were heroes. Those who we have known, admired, respected. And loved.
It is with the saddest of hearts, and typing through tears yet unnumbered, that I must let you know of the passing of man who, although not a lifelong friend, was surely a friend for a lifetime.
I learned last night via a phone call from Connie Du Toit, that;
Yesterday afternoon, to a sudden and massive heart-attack, the Nation of Riflemen surely lost one of it's strongest pillars.
Airboss. Mr. Steve Herod.
Steve was the owner of the vaunted Area .45.
Steve was the real deal, he'd been there and had not only seen the elephant... but he'd taken it's measure and bearded the beast itself.
The gentlest of men, but a warrior among warriors, humble, yet never meek, a man of wisdom held in the highest esteem by an assembleage of wise, wise souls.
Steve loved his wife Elaine, fiercly, deeply, passionately and with the utmost loyalty. Condolences is such an inadequate word, yet, is what I most sincerely offer.
I'll write more later, as words fail me, and the screen is but a blur. I've had the painful honor of notifying some of Steve's close friends via telephone late last night. I'm sure there are hundreds of such calls fanning out now, everywhere.
God Bless you, Airboss, and my prayers go with Elaine, and family.
Your absence leaves a void which simply, shall never be filled.
