Letter from Vermont

That dashing doughboy in the photo with Olya I last posted was our esteemed state representative Joe Acinapura.  Joe has been a wonderful individual to us in so many ways, encouraging Olya as she worked toward citizenship, fostering a supportive relationship with us and the inn, and generally being there for anyone who needs him.  He is a valued resource to so many of us in Brandon, and not above entertaining little Klara with hand puppets to make her smile.  So his “hello, welcome, new citizen” was especially meaningful for Olya and for me.

The “goodbye” was a little tougher on all of us.  Last week, Dick Kirby came by to tell us that “Bows ‘N’ Ivories” had lost a violinist.  Since Dick was standing right in front of me and I had eaten breakfast with Olya, I knew it must be Frank.  Frank Bunting died at his home on a Saturday morning.  I found out later he and I were Masonic brothers.  We Masons are fond of a certain aspiration from antiquity, to “live respected and die regretted.”  These words could have been written for Frank.  He was a beloved small-town attorney, and his sudden death was a shock and a loss to many.  His funeral at the church in Brandon where he and his wife were married more than 50 years ago was crowded with friends, colleagues, family, and acquaintances, all of us for a short while united as mourners.

 My fondest memory of Frank?  Some other time, perhaps.