After moping around all night Thursday and Friday morning I made the decision to bite the bullet and  drive out to Western Kansas to be with Daniel for both his niece's wedding and his father's funeral. Saturday morning, after making all the arrangements to get the girls to their separate softball tournaments I took off. He had no idea I was driving the four hours out there and I had to keep in touch with him via text to know where he would be. As I pulled up in front of his sister's house I called his cell but told him I couldn't hear him very well and would he mind stepping outside. His jaw dropped when he saw me standing in the driveway. The look on his face was well worth the long ass drive.

The wedding Saturday night was very nice. The open bar at the reception was even nicer and we took full advantage of it as did many of the other guests. We drank, we ate, we danced, and then we drank some more. There were the occasional tears whenever someone would verbalize how much Norm would have loved the party and when the band played his song, Elvira, we all danced  and sang in his honor. I have no doubt he was there dancing with us.

The next couple of days had a different tone as his family prepared for the funeral. Daniel wrote what looked to be about five pages about his father in a journal that he wanted read at the service. These pages only began to scratch the surface of the stories that surround this man and his legacy and Daniel was still jotting down notes as we stood in the church parking lot. He had so many nicknames that went as far back as his high school football days that the family was trying to figure out who might know how he got them.  Many knew him as "Diz" and there was one theory that he got his bell rung so many times playing football that someone thought he wandered over to the wrong huddle one time and thus the name. However, that could not be confirmed. 

The service was the biggest the little town of Stuttgart had ever experienced. As people poured in to pay tribute to their friend the funeral director had to get creative on where to seat all of them. Many were in the balcony sitting with the choir. Everyone enjoyed the stories Daniel had written and the sound of laughter resonated through the church walls.

I've posted pictures before of Norman's blacksmith shop but this building is so beautiful I couldn't help snapping another one. It just happens to sit next to the church.

This is Stuttgart Oil, Norman's garage that he took over from his father back in 1955. This is where he worked 10 hour days up until the past few months when his health wouldn't allow it any longer. This is also where locals would congregate at the end of the work day for something cold to drink and some good conversation. They always got both.