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..... I was driving from Seattle to my place on the lake here in eastern Washington state. My best friend, Matt and I were pouring a small slab to anchor my dock. We had started the week before but had to stop due to weather. It is about a six hour drive from Seattle and the entire was things were just off. Was going to ride my motorcycle but it broke down a block from my house, pushed it back and got in my car. The weather was grey and the closer i got to home the worse the mood felt.

When I got the cabin there was a note from a friend to call him immediately. I called him and he said he would be out in a few minutes and that he had to talk to me. When he arrived a few minutes later I could tell immediately that some was very wrong. He said he some very bad news. He said that Matt had died earlier that morning in a plane crash. Matt was the Undersheriff of the county and was coordinating a search and rescue for a woman who had gone of her meds and wandered off into the forest. It was day two and Matt went up hoping to see something from the air. Evidently they were too low, something happened and they went down. Rudy, the pilot I didn't know real well but enough to know he was a great guy. He volunteered his time and his plane to do SAR for the county. He was the guy would get up on a snowy morning and go plow people's driveways for free because he liked helping people.

Seven years later and I am sitting here with tears in my eyes. Matt was 42 when he died. He had a wife and two little girls.

RIP my brother, I miss you.
 
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