There is a nice piece in today's Summit Daily News
about Jeff Frishette.
Tomorrow, Friday, at 2:30 pm, there will be a memorial service for Jeff at Copper Mountain's Copper Station (bottom of the Super Bee chair, at the eastern-most base area).
Because I believe that the Opinion Page I linked to above will change tomorrow, I'll paste the text of Kevin Deforrest's piece here:
From the Summit Daily News, November 1, 2001
A smile for Jeff Frishette
Kevin Deforrest Guest Columnist
Loss, love, grief, support, friendship, sorrow, encouragement, assistance, prayer, camaraderie, help, life, time, spirit, community … all of these words, all of these thoughts, all of these feelings…each one of us has been bombarded with each one them over the last day or two. We feel love for Lori, for Jeff, for Hardy, for their families, for each other. We feel loss and sorrow and grief. We long to translate these feelings into support, encouragement, camaraderie and friendship. In the spirit of prayer, in this spot in time, in reverence to life, we come together as a community. We KNOW but we cannot say, we FEEL but we cannot show, we LOVE but we cannot smile.
And yet, we all think about a smile, one particular smile, as good a smile as any one of us will ever know — Jeff’s smile. It wasn’t one of those smiles that would light up a room. It was a smile that would light up a whole building, a golf course, a mountain, a town, a community, a world. And he flashed it every time you saw him.
Of course he had good reason to smile, good reason to be happy. He was just better than most of us in most everything we did. He was a better golfer, if I got a five, he got a simple little fo’. He was a better fisherman — if you got five fish, he got eight. He was a better football player, a better skier, a better ball cap wearer. Come to think of it, he even had a better laugh than everyone else.
You see Jeff was funny, but he wasn’t really as funny as he thought he was. In fact, none of us were as funny as he thought we were. But, somehow he always made you think he was and that you were, and he always made you believe that there was a good laugh lurking behind every corner. When Jeff told a story, it ended with a giggle. When you told a story to him it ended with a roar. He laughed and made our lives better. And if we learned anything from him at all, we learned that it is our responsibility to make our own lives, and the lives of those all around us, better — with a smile and a laugh, even when the world is not as funny a place as we’d like it to be.
There is a saying that claims that life is a net of jewels, each jewel and each facet of existence is a reflection of every other jewel and every other facet of existence. I don’t know Jeff’s family, but I do know that if his life was a reflection of them, then they can be and should be proud and pleased to have brought him into our world. I don’t know his oldest friends, but I do know that Jeff took the best parts of each of them and brought it to Summit County and shared it with us.
I do know Lori and I do know that together they gave love and laughter to each other and to each and every one of us. Side by side they looked together at the world, lived together in the world, wondered how to make it better, somehow figured it out and did make it better. She was his jewel, and he was hers and he was a bright shining gem to each and every one of us.
I don’t know how we find the strength, in this moment, to be a reflection of Jeff, but I do know that we are called to it. It won’t be easy, today or ever, to smile like he did, but I’m gonna try. I owe that to my friend. I owe it to Lori, to his family and to every one who had the chance to get beaten at golf, out fished, out skied, or out smiled by Jeff.
He played every game with all of his heart and encouraged each of us to do the same and we’re all just a little bit better off because of it. Well the game’s not over my friend. I know you’re throwing down the gauntlet right now, placing a friendly little bet. I’ll take the bet.
I’ll keep trying to win, to play my best, to make everyone else play their best and when we hit the nineteenth hole or gather at après, we’ll add up the score. I’ll hand over my wager with a wink and a prayer to you and we’ll smile a big old smile and laugh, a great big old Jeff Frishette laugh. God bless you Jeff. Thanks for the lessons. Thanks for the laughter. Thanks for the smile.
There will be a memorial service for Jeff at Copper Station, Friday at 2:30 p.m. All are invited.