I'm a southern boy! I had the privelege to meet kip some 10 years ago.I remember him coming into the sportsbar I hungout at, smoking his cigar, wearing his Giants jersey.I'm like,"who is this mf?"As time went on I realized how passionate he was about his Yankees & Giants.As a southern football man I respected that.But I would always root against the Yankees or Giants, because I told him its no fun if everybody pulls for the same team. This is where my story begins, and let u know why I love kip.Kip knew I was a georgia football fan.He went and got every single teams t-shirt that georgia played that year and wore it every saturday when we watched football.Little things like that might not mean anything, but they add up to the man he was! He might have been from the north, but he was my Southern Brother! LOVE YOU KIP!

Kip and his family were on vacation at Old Orchard Beach.  Kathy and the kids went shopping on the boardwalk and left Kip alone on the beach to enjoy some peace and quiet.  While he was sitting there enjoying the scenery, a bee stung him.  Kip was alergic to bees, but did not have an epi-pen (or "bee kit" as he called it).  Unfortunately, he started to feel his throat close and he started shaking.  He started to think "What's going to happen if I go into shock?"  At that point, he decided to practice mind over matter and deep breathing to prevent the effects of shock from setting in.  Then he thought, "If I'm dying, do I tell the lifeguard and have a bunch of strangers gawking at me while I slowly die?  Or, do I just die alone in peace?"  Naturally, Kip decided to die in peace.

"How are Kathy and the kids going to know what happened to me?" he wondered.  He quickly devised a plan.  He picked up the Stephen King novel that Kathy was reading and wrote in it what may have been his final words which would reveal his fate: "The Bee Did It."

 

It was the Christmas of 1997, and our family was gathered Kip and Kathy's house - which was the tradition at the time.  We were eating our turkey dinner and as usual, I took ridiculously large bites of food.  Because our father had just died two weeks prior, I didn't really want to upset anybody, but I realized I was choking and couldn't breathe because the turkey was lodged in my throat.  Kippy was in the kitchen and I knew he would know just what to do.  So I calmly got up, went to the kitchen, gave Kippy the universal signal for choking, turned around, and in a flash, Kippy put his arms around me, pumped three times, dislodged the hunk of meat in my throat and saved my life.

Kippy couldn't finish the rest of his dinner.

 

-Claire-anne