Michael Kilgore

My friendship with Michael goes back to the early ’70s when we were teaching at Spaulding Graded School in Barre, VT. When he eventually moved to his beloved Long Island, we kept in touch, albeit sporadically. Ours was one of those friendships where, no matter the time or distance apart, we would take up right where we left off. I’ll never forget when Fran and I visited him on the island a few years ago. He fixed us a great lobster dinner but, soon after, the weather turned bad and we rushed to catch the last ferry off the Island. It was so rough that we nearly got tossed off the gangplank when boarding! Michael was the typical reserved Mainer, with a heart of gold. He was always helping his island neighbors, both human and, of course, feline. I believe he was sheltering 52 dump cats at one point all of which he brought to town one-by-one to be spayed or neutered. Toward the end, I kept in touch with him mostly via snail mail. I’ll miss composing those occasional missives. I have no idea how his record collection will be distributed (he once told me his shelves were so heavy with vinyl that his floor was bowing!) but I’m sure he’s now listening to the REAL Master’s Voice. My heart goes out to Nancy, his family and all his friends. May you take comfort in your memories. No one truly dies to us, as long as we remember.

– Barry Jones