Larry didn’t marry. He hoped to, but Mrs. Right eluded him. So, it is left to his family to write his tribute. Larry left behind parents, 4 siblings, aunts & Uncles, cousins, and friends. Unfortunately, many friends lived out-of-state, so this site will mostly be the place to express their grief and share memories.

Larry was tender (to his sisters), outdoor companion (to his brothers), and play-pal (to his nephews). He enjoyed breaking beer with his father as much as quaffing coffee with his mother. Larry was witty and warm, able to engulf you in a hug as he quipped a one-liner. Larry was a fabulous, tireless back-rubber. He loved the warmth of Florida, the ruggedness of Indiana’s farmland, and the season’s changes everywhere he found them. Larry could wield a hammer, paintbrush, and a chopping knife with ease; then switch to steering an 18-wheeler and ATV worth equal expertise. Larry managed his “jack-of-all-trades” without the half-heartedness of some multi-taskers. Yet, if he felt incompetent in a task, he felt no qualms about letting the task slide.

Larry drove a truck for much of his adult years. He worked for various firms until about one year prior to his passing. (Most recently, he worked for SM&P, where he located buried utility lines.) Larry drove the same routes for most of his driving years, so he befriended many outside of Indiana. To stay fit in a sit-down world, he unloaded cargo, winning gratitude and friends at his stops. It also helped him stay in a trim 34W-36L. Larry avidly “read” while behind the wheel – books on tape, in both top-seller and literary genres. Finally, Larry was a chameleon on the road: Longhaired and wooly one day, then shorn and clean-shaven the next.

Larry loved to help and encourage. During gatherings, Larry was one of the special few: A male willing to help with preparations and clean up. He stated, “If I’m gonna consume it, I gotta be willing to produce it!” With friends, he hunted, fished, and ATV’d there, he managed to sew a few close friendships with the stitches of coffee-and-conversation. Finally, Larry poured kindness on those he loved, as when he stayed near his sister when out stepmother passed, offering hugs rubs, and gentle words, and the occasional cup of coffee – all without prompting, simply out of love.

In short, Larry was human. It’s hard to condense one sweet life into a mere 500 words. How to say that Larry was a beautiful soul who frequently felt isolated, so he sometimes isolated himself? It is during one such period of isolation that an aneurism erupted; we were told he felt no pain. We always assumed Larry would return, so his absence during this period of isolation though felt was overlooked. It was his choice. Now we keenly feel his absence as we walk the long, broad path of our grief.