Monday, September 25, 2023
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I’m grateful for a relationship with Marty that goes back to high school, where our common interest was sports. While not close friends, we were good friends.
One fond memory from high school is when just the two of us found ourselves commiserating (with the help of a several Miller 7-ouncers) immediately after a particularly embarrassing baseball loss to Simsbury. Marty had pitched during part of that 23-4 debacle, At one point, a ground ball scooted through my legs while I played shortstop; I added insult to injury by watching the ball head into left field – by looking backwards through my legs! The good news was that scene highly amused Marty, as he pointed out later with his characteristic sharp laughter.
In fact, what I didn't fully appreciate in Marty at the time was a quiet confidence and competitive spirit that no doubt was a key to his professional success in later years. Even as a sophomore in high school, his extroverted personality earned the social companionship of seniors – but without condescension toward anyone. Marty handled himself in a way that allowed him to relate easily and naturally with all types of classmates.
Marty and I interacted intermittently but enjoyably after high school. I was lucky for one opportunity to do a little consulting work for him about 7-8 years ago, I think, during the early construction of The Tannery in Glastonbury. Impressive at the time was how successful he was with a small operation. Basically, he did it all, with the help of a younger Patrick at the time. There was nowhere to duck accountability or mistakes – it was all Marty. He basically created The Tannery by himself, as far as I can tell. He was the single point of coordination, managing the day-to-day work of many outside resources over the life cycle of that successful project.
Certainly, there are many successful business people in this world. But doing what Marty did, and the personal influence and success he had – well, very few people can pull that off.
No doubt of greater importance to Marty was his family, and others can speak better about those relationships and impact than I.
The bottom line for me is that the more I think about Marty in this way, the more I miss him. And I feel awful for the tremendous loss suffered by his family and close friends.
At the same time, I’m happy that Marty had the life opportunity to do what he was built for, and to seemingly revel in it. And I imagine that Marty could not be happier and prouder of the sons and daughters he has helped raise.
So, how do I communicate with Marty at this point? I'm hoping that continuing to remember and think of him is a way to reach out. And when a thought of Marty pops into my mind, out of nowhere – maybe that's him thinking of me. And when that happens, and if that's why, I'll be very grateful.
