2023

Chat Campbell (November 17th 2023)

“You’ve got to meet this cat”, Chat would say, “my buddy Figaro”.

Chat grew up on the east coast, went to school for business administration but the rest of his time he spent outside: work for the forestry service, a wind surfing instructor in Hood River OR, ski patrol first at Red River then Taos Ski Valley; later he started his own excavation company.

Chat loved animals most of all. He would act the fool a million times over to make Theodore – his adopted dog from his neighbors – pay attention and come. I would complain to Chat that Fig the cat had overheated again because he always insists on wearing that black coat of his, even in the heat of summer. Catching on to the joke right away, Chat would say, “Hm, yes, he sure does like that sweater”. Our news updates consisted of Theodore’s haircuts, Fig’s misadventures, my pup Mamma’s eternal excitement to see Chat (whose name she confused with Theodore’s). Walking through the beautiful meadows by Chat’s house, dogs leaping through tall summer grass and into acequias to cool off, it felt like we were living a long forgotten childhood. I had known Chat for just two short years, but he had a way of welcoming you and drawing you into his world; it felt like we had been friends for a lifetime.

Chat loved to hear about my construction project – he took every opportunity to help me out by connecting me with plumbers, electricians, tools. Chat even found me a Taos family in Dora, Carl, the horses, and of course Fig the cat: a home. When Chat got his own little black kitten, Magic, he would wear a soft black robe himself to train the kitten to lay on his lap and purr. I never did tell Chat that his name means “cat” in French. Something tell me that he already knew.

Rich Meyer (February 28th 2023)

Grew up in and around Denver, CO, Rich was not one to fit a mold. He was a good student – as all smart kids are – until he hit junior high school. His friends were always older and Rich got caught up in the hippie 60’s.

Kindness and thoughtfulness did Rich no favors. He took any job he could get: facilities manager at his daughter’s school in Gilpin county, ACE hardware customer service, dishwasher at Pizzanos. He loved to joke and say “I aint afraid of hard work, I can get this close [simulating an inch with his fingers] to it and not flinch”. Rich’s true passion was as a gun smith. He loved turquoise jewelry, took careful care of antiques, and kept a tidy house (a trailer that he rented).

Rich lived in a tipi with his cat Tigger for 18 months in the front range mountains. He had two ex-wives and a daughter, Emily, who studied to be a vet tech. Rich didn’t own a phone or credit card and simply didn’t believe in being part of the system. A self-proclaimed recluse, Rich was the most gregarious hermit I’ve ever met.

Rich was not made for this world – but I’m sure he left an impression on everyone who knew him. After going to the hospital and getting diagnosed with congestive heart failure, Rich seemed to have a renewed interest in life, in getting better. The tragedy was that his mind was still too sharp and he couldn’t reconcile that with the seriousness of his physical condition.