My family and I are at home on Saturday evening in November and the phone rings. It’s Tracy saying “I found your dog”. I thought that’s funny I don’t have a dog but went along eith with it and answered “Really where is my dog”. “At Macy’s in the city” he replied. 

Long story short. We got a “Labrador “ Dixie. 5 years later I can say that Dixie is the smartest, prettiest dog I’ve ever owned. Now she might not be lab but she is a 100% purebred Dixie. 

Tracy I can’t thank you enough for the best damn dog on the planet. 

Just one more reason you are always close to me

I met "Charles" at Cy-Fair high school in Cypress, TX. It was sophomore biology class. I think we struck up a conversation talking about our watches. Almost identical rectangular gold multi-function LCD. Mine a Seiko, his an Armitron. I liked to kid him that his was the copy, but I didn't really know.

I always thought, in high school, that his name didn't fit him. I started calling him Tracy between high school and The University of Texas. It felt more like who he was.

Tracy taught me to drive a stick! It was in his beloved burgundy MGB. He cringed most of the time I was driving, but I finally got the hang of it. At least I thought I had until he let me drive his Miata years later. LOL

When we were at UT, my house got flooded by a burst pipe after our winter break. He let me crash on his dorm floor until my house could be fixed. We just grabbed a mattress out of an empty room and threw it on the floor.

I was sad when he moved to Minnesota, but we kept in touch with letters and phone calls. I remember when he told me he and Julie were dating and when he said they would be married. I'm glad I got to be in the wedding and share that memory with them.

After Tracy and Julie moved to California, I visited a couple of times, but we lost touch with each other. Marriages, kids and miles just have a way of doing that. But I always thought of him as my friend. I think he found me through Linked-In years later and we messaged there and talked on the phone for a bit. In one of the last messages, I was going to call him, but (as my wife likes to say) vicissitudes! Life just has a way of getting in the way. I was sad when I found out Tracy had passed and mad at myself for not calling him.

Even though we had grown apart, I miss him and think of him often.

I'll write more later.

Tracy was a a man that would help anybody.  They simply needed to ask and well sometimes not even ask.

Everyday I am reminded of our loss.
I swing my feet out of bed and they hit the floor that he and his son, Hunter, sanded, stained and varathaned.  
I get up and stretch and here comes the dog.  Bounding up to say good morning.  Dixie was found by Tracy and Julie while they were in San Francisco.  I got a call one night from Tracy telling me they found the dog I didn't know I was looking for.  Dixie really should have been Tracy's dog.  So easy going, friendly, and fun.
I go and wake the kids again walking over floors that he helped me re-finish.
I let the dog out and look around the backyard and see the shed that he built for me while I was on vacation out of town.
I step into the kitchen for a cup of coffee and think about the plans we made to refit the kitchen.
I head out to the garage.  There sits the mustang Convertible that Tracy helped to find, test drive and negotiate the purchase.
Heading out of the house to go to work and see the RV trailer that he put hard wood floors into and fixed the brakes.
He will be remembered and missed.  He was a kind and generous man.  He was my very dear friend. 

I have heard, that we are lucky if we have a handful of people we can call, that will help us at the drop of a hat, no matter what.  Through Tracy’s death, my personal count of such people was reduced by one.

I was introduced to “Chaz” on the first day of my sophomore year at St Thomas.  Initial impressions are memorable, though not overly positive.  Boisterous is my primary recollection.  A year later we were roommates.  The loud man next door became my dear friend and at the center of very influential times in my life, college and post graduate school.  We were a bit of the odd couple.  He was twice my size, an extrovert, not uptight, less scholarly, had a higher EQ, he was messier…  

Tracy introduced me to Hurricanes, though he likely inverted the ratio of rum to punch. I brought him onto the photostaff where we inserted small statues of the California Grapes into those boring group shots for the yearbook.  We played arcade games, loser had to do the dishes.  We started an arms race, first, we bought squirt guns, then electric squirt guns, then squirt gun Uzi’s, and had 1:1 battles in our apartment, hit three times and you were doing the dishes.  Image my surprise when he introduced a ketchup bottle reconstituted as a high volume “machine gun”.  We carried sparklers on our way to receive our diplomas.  He was able to drive his Renault Alliant like it was a BMW, a shield we both yearned for and later in life owned.  We worked at Domino’s pizza together…

Tracy was more mechanical than I, and certainly was more fluid in his notions of the “right way to do things”.  He replaced the fuel filter in my car and attached it with nails through the wheel well using a bottle cap as a lock nut.  The fuel filter was still there as I sold the car three years later.  We built a coffee table out of 2x4s and stress tested the construction by throwing it out the window.  A small squeak was the only damage.  That table moved with me through a half dozen addresses and held my grill for more than 15 years until succumbing to the elements last summer.  The “manufactured by Tracy and Patrick” Sharpey inscription was still plainly visible through the layers of stain and protectant.

Most impactfully, he and Julie opened their home to me, an act that became a turning point in my life. Toward the end of graduate school, with no real prospects, a recent break-up with my then girlfriend, and most importantly no real direction, I was invited to come to California.  The move ultimately facilitated personal growth, and professionally Silicon Valley in the 90’s provided opportunity I was able to turn into a career.  The invitation got me there, he and Julie’s support and challenge got me through.  They were family for the six years I lived in California.  I have repeatedly expressed my gratitude to Tracy, though I doubt I communicated as clearly and deeply as I feel it.  Twenty-five years later I may still underestimate his impact.

Over the 20 odd years since living in California, our level of contact ebbed and flowed, though his list of all my email addresses illustrates how we kept in contact.  We would occasionally share dinner on his trips to visit Minnesota clients, and we could comfortably pick up as if no real time had passed.  About a year ago Tracy came to town and joined my four-year-old, Aidan, and I for dinner, after which he insisted in taking a run to Target.  Aidan ended up with a box set of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoons, over my friendly objection.  Another example of Tracy’s generosity, working to the beat of his own drum and stretching me a bit.  He made me a better person, hopefully, I returned the favor in some way. 

Tracy loved to Scuba Dive.  He and I would go down to Monterey with the trailer and camp in the San Carlos Beach Parking Lot.  We would do our dives, come back to the trailer clean up and head to Safeway.  Picking up all the fixins we would head back to the trailer and make a feast.  Bacon Wrapped Shrimp was a staple.  Cajun Shrimp, Steak, potatoes, Deserts.  He loved to cook and loved to have people enjoy his cooking.  He always said "It could have been better" even when it was perfect.  

The food was wonderful but most importantly it was his presence.  His humor and easy going attitude was what made those trips fun.

I will sorely miss my diving partner.