Passing of a friend

Most people can count very close friends on one hand.

That’s why it is so sad that I lost such a friend, Myron Finkbeiner.

Myron and his wife, Gwen, and their family had been in and out of our lives for many years.

He was a native Washingtonian, with a lot of family in the central part of the state.

We first met in Nampa, Idaho, and enjoyed many family outings together. Myron was a star basketball player at Northwest Nazarene College, where we both attended, although at different times.

Myron went on to get his master’s degree and had been a teacher his entire life, not all of it in the classroom.

He taught love of family and friends, and was always a friend, never judgmental.

He answered the call for military service and was in for a couple of years.

We had moved on to Othello, and when the high school head basketball coaching position opened in the early 60s, he applied and was readily hired.

His team members remained in contact with him all this time. That’s the kind of coach and friend he was to everyone who knew him.

The past two years Myron has faced a long and difficult fight with cancer. He continued to lift society around him with a positive attitude and always words of encouragement to others.

During those two years, and after I learned of his cancer, the two of us had frequent and sometimes long chats by phone. While his voice was raspy and strained at times, I always hung up the phone lifted and promising to myself that I would be a better family man.

While sick, Myron started several projects and promoted his college, keeping track of classmates.

One of his basketball team players has called me several times after he had called Myron to check on how he was doing.

With Myron, once a friend, you were always a friend.

I clearly remember our two families traveling up to Silver City, a mining ghost town south of Boise.

During one of our phone visits we laughingly recalled that day. He promptly dug into his files and sent me pictures of that day. That’s typical Myron, thinking of his friends and doing kind deeds for them.

He taught a lot of young people a variety of subjects while a teacher. But most of all, he taught them that everyone can be a class act if you live for others.

So there’s good reason to be sad. His wife and many family members would tell you that a great life is a happy life.

So, I will miss the sound of his voice, and the information he would pass on about friends that I also knew.

He has made a better life for all those who called him friend.

So, if you have that handful of very close friends, cherish this, and give them a call.

Myron was 86, and in the end, won the final game.