#79, Johnny P.

Johnny lives across the street from my dad in Montana, with his wife Linda. He says "crick" instead of "creek" and has a softly booming, mumbling voice. Wears flannels, vests, jeans and boots and trucker caps. He used to send over homemade salami and sausage for us during the summers, back when we kids were young. He was an avid hunter, you see, and still is, despite losing a couple of fingers at the steel mill where he works. He has a white horse named Dooley who has been around forever. (Our dog Chewy, rest his little soul, was overly fond of stealing across the road to eat Dooley's steaming piles of excrement. This is completely true.)
Johnny saved my dad's life. After lying on the landing for two days because of suffering a bad stroke, my dad finally managed to crawl to the phone and call... Johnny. not '9-1-1', but Johnny. He ran right over and took dad to the hospital. When my brother and i went up by train a couple weeks later, Johnny drove us around to buy air mattresses and groceries. Even though he uses derogatory words a lot, i just can't hate him. (i wish he wouldn't say things like that, obviously, but unfortunately i don't think the man will change any time soon.) Thank you for being there, Johnny.

#57, Shawn.

Shawn spelled his name the girls' way, which was awesome. He was my sister's friend, through Heather, really. Always wearing a black baseball cap, plaid flannel and light-colored jeans, although the band t-shirt underneath would change often enough; usually a metal theme. Always a pack of cigarettes (Camels?) and a Zippo in his pocket. Shawn smiled a lot, smoked a lot of pot, and had quite a drawl from an upbringing somewhere in the midwest. He worked at an aquarium in Albany (CA) for a long time, and had been married and had a kid a few years before we met him. His daughter's name was Stormy, which frankly is one of the most beautiful names i can think of. He had fake front teeth, from jumping off of a roof into a pool, and missing, when he was a teenager. Ouch. He had no sense of smell because of gas rushing up past a faulty gas cap (the tank was between his legs) when he was motor-biking somewhere once. It went straight into his nostrils, with force. He eventually moved to Montana after visiting there with my sister at some point. He had 2 kids with the younger sister of the girl he initially lived with for years. Drama, drama! Such a nice guy, though, Shawn. He did a lot for people. Can't think of a bad thing to say about him, really. Miss him a lot sometimes.