By Bertie Brouhard
He died earlier this month. James Chandler Augustine, my dear friend for most of 75 years. Passed on in Gothenburg, Nebraska. Now no longer suffering from COPD that drained his energy and spirit. He was 80 and failing.
For about a dozen years; ages 6 to 18 we were the tightest of “ buds,” very close coloring each other’s lives, filling in the blanks and spaces that shaped, molded, defined us. His death crowded my aging brain with so many marvelous memories of our youth. This article is not an obituary but hopefully a celebration of his life and perhaps an aid for you in handling the loss of a loved one.
Of course please don’t waste your time reading this if you happen to be one of the fortunate few who have not suffered such loss. If you’re one please email me or at least start wondering when you might join us. My intent is for us both – you the reader (entertained) and me the writer (needing therapy) – to benefit from these mostly true tales of our youth.
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