Tom was a big dude. He showed up one day as the First Officer on a flight to Shannon Ireland which I had the pleasure of being the Captain of. On the way over I discovered that Limerick, or “Stab City” as some of the locals refer to it, was where our hotel was and where an impressive number of pubs were owned by a member of the Flannery clan. He was personal friends with several of them. Being friends with the owner always enhances the experience and we had many a nice layover together.

As we both gained seniority we found ourselves on better paying trips going to Germany together once in a while. Tom loved Germany even more than Ireland. So much that every year he rented a 20’x60′ party tent, two bands and cooked Wiener Schnitzels and sausages and all that and more for days. These were nice parties. “It ain’t a party ’till the cops show up.” I used to go and park my camper in the side yard…….

Then Tom became a Captain himself and we didn’t fly together anymore. I quit drinking for the second and last time in 2016 so lost track of the Octoberfest too.

Then one day I called him for old times sake and he told me that he had a rare disease which caused him to have little or no short term memory. We talked about the Limerick and Germany days….. But he didn’t know what he had for breakfast., or what he did yesterday. Or the day before. And he wouldn’t remember I called. He puts a lot of post it notes on the wall. Through a mutual friend (Ron) I learned the live in girlfriend couldn’t deal with it anymore and moved out.

Every once in a while Ron and I call Tom. We have the same conversation every time and he doesn’t remember it. And you can tell him that. But he enjoys talking for a little. Sometimes his sense of humor even comes through.

This reminds me. It’s time to call Tom again.