Jim volunteered for Domestic Violence and Rape Crisis Services of Saratoga County (DVRC). At DVRC's 30th anniversary we formally remembered this fine man who had not only helped so many victims of abuse, but who had become our friend. Here are our words as we remembered our friend:

Last May, DVRC lost a good friend, a dedicated volunteer and an inspiring role model. Jim Loveday began volunteering for our hotline in 2009, but he so quickly became part of the DVRC family that it’s hard to imagine we only knew him for 3 years. Many callers were initially surprised to hear a male voice when they called the hotline. His gentle caring manner quickly overcame reticence. Whether in person or over a phone line, Jim’s warmth, kindness and compassion shone through.

Shortly after beginning as a hotline volunteer, Jim asked how he could do more to help DVRC. He began volunteering in our office providing phone  coverage during staff meetings. This is where we really got to know Jim. From the first hello and immediate eye contact, Jim made everyone feel special. He didn’t just volunteer; he became part of the team. He joined us at fundraising events…where we finally got to meet his daughters. Jim spoke so frequently about his daughters that we felt like we already knew them. There was no doubt in his mind that, above all, he cherished his family and delighted in camping trips and holiday dinners.

Jim always had a book with him, but we think his secret talent was that of story teller. At a wine tasting fundraiser, Jim was seated with several staff and a couple from out of town. Jim delighted the couple telling them about Saratoga and about volunteering at DVRC. His passion for life was contagious. By the end of the evening he had so charmed the couple, we were almost certain they were considering selling their home, relocating to this area, and volunteering for DVRC. All because Jim was so enthusiastic about how much he enjoyed each day.

No mention of Jim Loveday could omit what a wonderful and bounteous cook he was. Whenever an opportunity presented itself, Jim would astound us with a culinary creation. He didn’t just bring a dish to share; he provided us a celebration. His Jambalaya is legendary. His cooking, his volunteerism, his stories about family…they all have the same theme…a generous man spreading love person-to-person in everything he did. For this reason we all choose to remember Jim smiling and offering a huge platter of Jambalaya — spreading love, helping others, making every moment of life count.

Hi Dad,

So, when I was in my 20's I remember telling you that unless you walked me down the isle, I refused to get married.  You made me eat my words this year.  Just as you passed, I realized that the only other person who could ever walk me down the isle and give me away would have to be the only other person on the planet that you created - my sister.

You know she's been my rock - strong and steady, keeping me from sinking.  We grabbed each other's hands and asked each other if we were alright, we told each other not to cry and then as soon as we got to the top of the isle, we both pretty much lost our composure.  I chose to post the before picture rather than the after because I know you would have preferred to see your girls smiling.

Actually, I know it because you pulled it off.  Every instance during that ceremony when things were getting heavy and emotions were running rampant, I figure you must have poked the peacock.  For those of you reading this, and wondering, yes there were actual peacocks at the wedding venue.  Poking the peacock is not some weird saying I made up.  So anyway dad, you poked the peacock and he went "CAW!!!!!!"  Every time it happened, we all burst out laughing.

Well, anyway, that walk down the isle was the longest walk I feel like I've ever taken.  I wish you could have been there to hold my hand.  I really missed my father/daughter dance, but I danced my feet off and howled with the crowd during Werewolves of London.

 "He's the hairy, hairy gent,
  who ran amok in Kent,
  Lately he's been overheard in Mayfair.
 
  You better stay away from him,
  He'll rip your lungs out Jim.  
  Huh, I'd like to meet his tailor.
 
  Aaahoo, Werewolves of London
  Aaahoo, Werewolves of London"

I wish I had known what song you wanted to dance with me to.  We never did get to pick it.  Maybe its better off that I don't know, that way I won't be sad when I hear it and think of what didn't come to be.  Instead, I can be happy and howl at the moon.

I miss you dad.  Love you forever.
Love,
Kate 

I knew Mr. Loveday as the first Dad I had ever met who cooked, a dad who was kind and caring, and a Dad who loved his daughter unconditionally.  Of course he wasn't my Dad, he was my friend Katy's Dad, but with the amount of time Katy and I spent together as children, Mr. Loveday was like a Dad to me. 

My fondest memory was camping in Lake George...which apparently he is famous for as I read the other posts on this site.  I remember heading up to Lake George with my Dad, following the maroon pickup truck with the white letters JEEP on the back. Our Dad's set up small tents for Katy and I, and then set up their own, while Katy and I hung out in her cool tent.  It was cool because it was bigger than mine...plus she had a big air mattress with a down comforter, a feather pillow, a radio, and plenty of cards and games.  My little tent, was equipped with a pool float for an air mattress and a plain old sleeping bag. ha ha! 

Our Dads had a lot to talk about without our moms around.  They played the cool parent and let us go into town all by ourselves (I believe they were just across the street or something, but we still felt we were on our own).  Katy and I played in the arcade and then we walked back to the tents with our Dads.  Ah the good old times. 

Forgive me Katy, if I got any details mixed up...we were so young.  Your Dad was the best.  I love how you call him papa bear, it is so fitting.  I looked in my old photo albums for a picture of Mr. Loveday and could only find a picture of Katy and I (along with my neighbor Nicole) at one of my Birthday parties at the Roller Rink.  Remember those days Katy?  My prayers go out to you and your sister.  May fond memories of your Dad make you smile and be strong. 

love
Julia (Robinson) Bargo