Posts Tagged → Tom Hardisky
The light that shines twice as bright lasts half as long
If you live long enough, you get to appreciate every minute alive more and more, because more and more, the people you know, love, work with, rely upon themselves fall prey to the end of all flesh. Some die unexpectedly and terribly, like my friend Dr. Holly Engelman, hit by a car while crossing Front Street in Harrisburg just days ago.
Others die of some unexpected disease or ailment. Several years ago, the state’s Furbearer Biologist, Tom Hardisky, had a massive heart attack while gardening. Tom was a friendly source of 24/7 inspiration and help to Pennsylvania trappers. And then one sunny morning, he was gone. In his early fifties.
My friend and fellow Dauphin County Planning Commission board member, Keith Oellig, died of a heart attack while stacking hay bales on his farm. In his mid fifties.
Live long enough, and the list just keeps growing. And today we add another to it: Janet Hodge.
Janet Hodge has been the long time webmaster for all of the web pages I own. She and I hit it off after just a couple minutes interviewing one another for the job, and the rest is history. Janet died a few days ago of a cancer she had been battling for a year. My web management needs are not so intense, and so her sickness resulted in just a couple delays here and there, with subjects that were not that important, anyhow. Her friendship was the best part of our relationship.
Janet Hodge is still shown on the Smithsonian Institute’s website as one of America’s living legacy people; a person who embodies some aspect of traditional American culture in a big way. To work with humble Janet was a big honor and enjoyment for me, and I will miss her technical support and her friendly camaraderie.
Here is her obituary, and some related links. Here.
Rest in peace, Janet Hodge. Yes, you died young at 66, but you also achieved more than most Americans could accomplish in two or three full lifetimes. And the light that burns twice as bright, lasts half as long.
Folks, don’t sit around wasting time; get out there in the world and leave your positive mark, leave a good legacy. Like Janet.
I took this photo in Rome. This is 1600’s street art, a reminder that death awaits us all
People we miss, a lot: Paul Lyskava, Tom Hardisky
As I get older, more and more people I know are either widowed or divorced, develop cancer and succeed or fail at beating it back, or drop dead while gardening, walking, biking, or hiking.
It seems to me that there is little correlation between body type or apparent fitness and these unexpected deaths.
And worse, there seems to be little correlation between how good these people are in life, and how premature their death is.
“Only the good die young,” is the famous quip made more famous by Billy Joel.
There is some truth to this quip, as much as I dislike it. It does make me wonder aloud about God’s plan, because there are a lot of really bad people who seem to thrive, while perfectly good people leave us way too soon, leaving behind grieving loved ones and friends alike.
Here are two fantastic people who left us way too soon. One of whom I knew well, and one of whom I did not know well. I miss them both very much.
The first one up is Paul Lyskava, former government affairs director for the Pennsylvania Forest Products Association.
Paul was probably the best person I ever worked with in the Pennsylvania capitol. He was the most level-headed, ethical, hard working, honest, good natured person there. Paul and I met in 1998, and maintained a friendship until he died eleven months ago, from a brain tumor. The painful truth is that I lost track of Paul in his last year, because he kind of fell off my radar screen and I was not assertive enough to follow up with him and ask what was up.
The truth that I eventually learned late was that he was dying. Not one to complain, Paul passed quietly.
I miss the hell out of Paul. I miss Paul a lot. I could cry all over again thinking about him being gone from us. His obituary hangs on the frig at our hunting cabin. The picture in it is of him with his young son. I look at it every time I go to the frig, and I almost always say “Oh, Paul, we miss you so so much. Why are you gone?”
The other great person who has left us is Tom Hardisky, who surprisingly died from a heart attack while gardening last Saturday. Tom and I met only a couple of times, and spoke on the phone and by email a few times.
Tom was the PA Game Commission’s furbearer biologist, which in Pennsylvania is a big job. We have more licensed trappers here than all of the states around us combined.
Tom was the kind of public servant who is a genuine servant. He lived what he did, and was an avid outdoorsman like those he served.
Desperate to get an official answer from him about some furs I was bringing in from Canada’s Northwest Territories at the Arctic Circle, I called Tom on a Sunday afternoon, at home. These are great furs coming in, running a gantlet of super and unnecessarily complicated Canadian paperwork and bureaucratic process.
“Sorry, Josh, please pardon the noise. I am making dinner for the family and some guests.”
And sure enough that friendly official answer he gave was accompanied by a cacophony of clanging pots and pans, frying food sounds, and banging dinner plates.
That is the kind of guy Tom was: Totally devoted to his constituents, even on Sunday, even while he is working in the kitchen for his family. And friendly. He loved this stuff and the people involved in it.
And now he, too, is gone, sadly.
Hello, God, can you help me figure this out?