Good-bye Mr. T

Mr. T's best friend, Fred, called me today and told me Mr. T has passed away. His roommate last saw him alive on Wednesday, and when he went into his room today, Mr. T was dead. He called the police and Fred. Apparently a quick look at Mr. T made the police think it was natural causes that killed Mr. T. (I'm guessing it was the long-term effects of too much beer.)

Fred is trying to reach the only one of Mr. T's sisters for whom he has a phone number. Mr. T's mom is in a nursing home somewhere with dementia. Mr. T's son is pretty much a bum in Illinois. I'm guessing the best way to reach him will be if Mr. T's sisters find his phone number in Mr. T's room or phone. They might know how to reach his mom in Illinois, although she and Mr. T never married. Mr. K, N, and J are going to scout camps this coming week, so only K and I will be around to go to Mr. T's funeral if there is one. Mr. T has no money, and I don't know if his sisters will pay for a funeral for him or if they will take up a collection to get him buried.

Fortunately, last week Fred brought Mr. T around to visit us, and we had a nice time visiting with him. At the time I was curious about why he smelled unwashed again when I knew he was living in a house with plumbing again. Perhaps he wasn't feeling up to bathing.

I see that God decided to return Betty Ford to Himself right about the same time He came for Mr. T. Sometimes I have trouble believing in coincidences.