RIP Walter

Gene Walter Davis
Pelican Rapids, Minn.

Died Tuesday at age 54 in his home.
Survivors: two daughters, Sarah Davis, Molly Davis; mother, Ruth Davis; and a brother, Dean (Deborah) Davis.
Services: The Prayer service will be Friday at 7 in Zion Lutheran Church, near Pelican Rapids. Visitation will be Saturday from 1 to 2, followed by the funeral at 2, in Zion Lutheran Church, Pelican Rapids. (Larson, Pelican Rapids)

The news from 56572 has not been all that positive. 56572 has refrained from reporting or writing about every loss. There is grief in many 56572 homes. One hopes readers will understand.

A small eulogy for Walter is appropriate today. For personal reasons. To process personal grief. Bear with me.

When one's circle of family, friends, neighbors and those one grew up with narrows, one remembers the last personal contact. What the deceased said in the final chapter.

Some of us knew Gene as Walter. His grandfather Walter was an icon in Lida Township two generations ago. I did not know Grandpa Walter. I read about him in yellowing issues of the Pelican Press. What sticks are the words "When Walter Davis came in the Press office we were happy to see him. His mere physical presence took care of all the ceiling cobwebs." Grandpa Walter was a local legend. His son Bud also legendary in his individuality. As was his son Walter Jr.

As a teenager I was one of the neighborhood kids who spent a lot of time at Bud and Ruth's with the Davis boys. The memories of fishing, cleaning and eating sunfish are clearest, the May 1964 tornado which destroyed the farmhouse while the Davis' were having dinner.

I was a closer friend of Walter's older brother Alan. At Alan's funeral at Loon Lake, I remember the Nat King Cole song Nature's Son:

There was a boy...
A very strange enchanted boy.
They say he wandered very far, very far
Over land and sea,
A little shy and sad of eye
But very wise was he.

And then one day,
A magic day, he passed my way.
And while we spoke of many things,
Fools and kings,
This he said to me,
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return."

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return."

The images of Walter that are burned into my virtual hard drive are those of Walter and his buddy Vern or brother-in-law Phil sitting out on the ice in front of Maple Beach this past winter in all types of weather as the late afternoon daylight faded. Walter walking barefoot across 108 down to the dock or into the fish cleaning house to check on Bob and Bibi. Walter in waders putting in the docks. Walter, like every good resort owner, fixing something.

The day before Walter didn't wake up he talked to an acquaintance. It must have been like a conversation I had with Walter this spring. Each of us vented about how life around Lida had changed. The same way, probably, that Walter Sr. and Bud had vented. The day before he didn't wake up Walter talked about selling out, retiring, either back to Crystal-Lida or "to a place where one could go barefoot year 'round." Walter got his wish.

I won't be able to attend your funeral Walter. If I could, I would honor the request of your daughters and leave my sandals in the car. I can't be certain why you left us so soon, even if you are now in a better place.

This weekend I would probably anchor an empty faded green fiberglass fishing boat a couple hundred yards off the Maple Beach dock, in November when the ice is still to dangerous to walk on, freeze down a couple pickle pails upside down in the same spot.

Classmates are calling Walter today at 863-5248, answering this ad in the Press of the day after you died, not knowing you will not answer.

Only the fish are not mourning.