Memories of My Friend Gerald Faloona, by David Card
I first met Gerry in the early 70’s when he would frequent my bar, Bo’s Place, just around the corner from the “Hall House”. Being the friendly and intelligent person Gerry was, we soon became fast friends. It was through him that I met and enjoyed the rest of the people in that house. I eventually moved into a vacancy in the house, and with Gerry’s room being adjacent to mine, our friendship flourished. We did frolicking and fun things together, many of which I cannot mention here and some I will never admit to. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!
During most of the 70’s and the early 80’s we were close buddies, culminating in my asking Gerry to be best man at my wedding in October 1984. Marriage and kids has a way of changing a single man’s habits and our lives gradually took diverging courses.
I want to mention the things I liked about Gerry: he was generous, articulate, politically active, fun-loving, gregarious, kind, a caring father and a good friend. Another thing I liked about him was there wasn’t much to dislike about Gerry.
Gerry was Bo’s Place resident “Santa Claus” each year during our Christmas party for kids. If memory serves, we once managed to get him to enter the building through the attic, thus simulating a “chimney drop”. After much exertion coming down the “chimney,” Santa was asked what he wanted. His reply, “Santa wants a Budweiser”. We gave him two.
Life has a way of dealing bad hands to everyone from time to time and Gerry was no exception. After he moved to California, our contact became minimal, if not non-existent. He called me once about 7 or 8 months ago. I returned the call once but did not persist. Now I regret it. But Gerry was the kind of person who could forgive, so I feel his understanding as I write this remembrance.
His passing scares me. It brings once again into focus my own mortality and the passage of time. Gerry and I discussed these things many times; he was not afraid to express his feelings, he would patiently listen to me whining about my fears, hopes, dreams, frustrations and economic insecurities. Then we would go to Bo’s Place and have a cold beer.
It’s difficult losing a good friend, whatever the circumstance. A little piece of us dies with them and we are left to carry on. There is one advantage to going first; in that spiritual realm where I need the most representation, Gerry Faloona is already there. I hope and expect he’s where he is, lobbying for my forgiveness, and the forgiveness of all of his friends, for he had many who may need his political clout and experience with the one who counts. So goodbye, Gerry, good buddy. My life is better because you were in it. Thanks.