• Slider 4

    Slider 4
  • Slider 3

    Slider 3
  • Slider 2

    Slider 2
  • Slider 1

    Slider 1

Tim Sample

& the Maine Humor Company

  • Home
  • Maine Humor Store
    • My Account
    • Cart
    • Checkout
  • Upcoming Shows
  • Book A Show!
  • Scrapbook
  • Videos
  • Press Kit
    • Appearance History
    • Biography
    • Bibliography
    • Blank Promotional Poster
  • Log In

One final hug

September 22, 2013 By Tim Sample

Tim headshot2

I was pouring myself a second cup of coffee the other morning when I heard the news.

My friend Leon, a local lobsterman and a neighbor of mine back when I was living on Georgetown Island, had been shot and killed in what was referred too as a “domestic dispute.” I dropped back into my chair and stared out the window.

The story rambled on, eventually devolving into a repetition of those inane phrases that have become the broadcast equivalent of yellow crime-scene tape: “police have secured the scene”; “few details are being released”; the droning soundtrack of raw human tragedy.

For a split second I felt as though I was the one who’d been shot.

Gradually details began to emerge. Trust me, I won’t be rehashing them here. What on earth would be the point? The incident, which took my friend’s life, was simply one more heartbreaking variation on an increasingly familiar theme.

Apparently longing to recapture some vaguely imagined, bygone era, when “real men” settled their “domestic disputes” with six-guns on the streets of Dodge City, America has transformed itself into a nation bristling with firearms of every conceivable size and description.

It won’t be long before folks start driving Sherman tanks to the local gun show. Maybe they already are.

Then, is it any wonder that the sort of altercation we once rightly expected would result in a black eye or at the very worst a broken nose, is now likely to require the services of a funeral director? I think not. But, it’s deeply troubling all the same.

To anyone familiar with the ways of Maine lobstermen, a pragmatic, straightforward bunch of folks, it will come as no surprise that my friend Leon lost his own life while attempting to help out another person in need, a not entirely uncommon occurrence among this particular demographic group. That part of the story at least made some sense to me. Frankly, it’s about the only thing that did.

The man I knew, the neighbor I respected and admired for nearly 20 years was recognized in our little community as a person who expended a lot his own time, energy and resources in the service of others less fortunate than himself. He was just like that.

According to Leon, though, he hadn’t always embraced such a positive approach to life. In fact, after I’d known him a while I realized that his outward generosity was merely his way of living out a simple inner conviction.

Since others had been there for him when he’d hit “rock bottom,” Leon figured the very least he could do was return the favor. How do I know all this? That’s easy. I was one of those “others” he helped.

Well over six feet tall with the kind of workingman’s heft you don’t get from training at the local gym, Leon was the obvious guy to call when I needed help hauling my 26-foot, half waterlogged wooden boat out of the vacant lot across the street from my house, through the center of town and onto a nearby public boat ramp.

Did I say nearby? I suppose that’s always a relative term.

Arriving by the dawn’s early light in a massive, bashed up 4X4 pickup truck, its bed randomly splattered with scraps of rancid bait fish, Leon and a couple of his burly friends got right to work.

They ended up spending most of one bright, sunny Sunday wrestling the bulky vessel through the town’s narrow streets and eventually launching her into the mighty Kennebec.

Of course, since he refused to take any of my money, I ended up paying him off in Amato’s Italian sandwiches, soda and chips.

It was around this time that I began to suspect Leon’s greatest strength had nothing to do with his physical size, quite the opposite.

Somehow, my friend with the big heart and the burning desire to help others had acquired strength of a very different sort, the kind which can only be gained via a rigorous coarse of study at that most unforgiving of all the institutions of higher learning: The School of Hard Knocks.

When I called my wife to relay the sad news, she gasped then wept. After a long pause she said, “Leon was why Jesus liked to hang out with fishermen.”

Then she added, “Getting a hug from Leon was like getting a hug from God.”

I particularly like that image. I think I’ll hang onto it.

It’s comforting to imagine my friend finally receiving an endless supply of the very thing he so freely gave to all of us.

Original Appeared in the Boothbay Register

Filed Under: Newspaper Column

StorepicSharing the Gift of Laughter!

Here it is folks, one-stop shopping for the most complete selection of Tim Sample products available anywhere. Whether you’re a lifelong fan or just tuning in you’ll find plenty of laughs. Why not replace that worn out cassette with a brand new CD of your favorite Tim Sample stories? While you’re here be sure to check out Tim’s latest books and CD’s hot off the presses. Would you like to have something autographed? We can make that happen. Enjoy!

EventspicCome to the show!

When was the last time you got a bunch of friends together and came out to see Tim Sample live onstage? If you can’t remember then it’s been too long. We’d love to see you. Keep in mind that all of Tim’s performances are guaranteed “family friendly”. There’s absolutely no foul language, no angry, mean spirited “jokes”, just a refreshing evening of laughter and fun for all ages.

NewspaperpicTim's Newspaper Column

I never planned to be a newspaper columnist. In fact, back in 2011 when I was approached by then editor Joe Gelardin about writing a weekly column for The Boothbay Register and the Wiscassett Newspaper I turned him down flat! “Not enough money.” I sniffed, “Plus, why would I want a weekly deadline hanging over my head?”

Fortunately Joe wouldn’t take no for an answer. My weekly column “Stories I Never Told You” turned out to be an excellent creative outlet. In 2013 it earned a First Place award from the Maine Press Association and in 2014 a collection of columns entitled “Answers to Questions Nobody was Askin’” was published by Down East Books. An audiobook version is in the works. Stay tuned.

BookingspicTim Sample At Your Event!

You’ve seen and heard Tim on stage, TV radio and recordings for years. Maybe it’s time to book him to speak at your next event. Here’s how to do it.
ArtGallery

Tim The Illustrator

I’ve always been handy with a pen, pencil or paintbrush. If you don’t believe me, check out the photo of my hand painted 1956 Chevy in the “Tim’s Scrapbook” section of the site.
Videopic

Video Clips

 
 

ARTillustration

Tim's Scrapbook

Shopping

  • Maine Humor Store
  • My Account
  • Cart
  • Checkout

Shopping Cart

Tim Sample & The Maine Humor Company · 81 Union St. · PO Box 840 · Calais, Maine 04619 · 207-522-3347 · tim@timsample.com

Copyright © 2021 · Website by DesignME Creative Group · Log in
Tim's Banner Photo by Robert Mitchell