When I was very young my grandmother lived in AZ. I lived in KS, lol, and still do. I went there for summer vacations starting at around age 3 and made visits to the deserts picking up stones I found interesting.

It wasn't till I was about 10 that I really got introduced to the field when someone tipped me off that the old man up the street was into rocks. I took a small collection I had to his house and some of the neighborhood kids followed me and I knocked at the door and he opened it and told me to get lost. I was really let down, taking my small plastic container of trim saw leftovers back home. It wasn't but a few days later that this guy, Leonard, was walking by my house and stopped and talked to me in the front yard. He said heh kid, I just didn't want all those other kids in my house, they always steal stuff. Come on over.

It was from that moment on I was hooked, even more so than before. Upon entering his house something smelled different. I didn't see any rocks, then we went downstairs. And there it was. The whole basement was filled with rocks and rocks and more rocks. I was in shock. And then we went around a corner and there it was: all the equipment I had ever seen in the Lapidary Journal sitting on benches.
There was the huge 3 barrel rock tumbler, the Genie six wheel diamond grinder, and my hero the Lortone 14" drop saw. Which btw was what I had smelled, the cutting oil in the saw. Then there was the Graves faceting machine and numerous other items. I had to pinch myself and see if I was not dreaming.

Leonard and I developed a special relationship, he taught me how to cab and was very generous in his offerings. My best friend actually lived right next door to Leonard and we both never knew anything about him. Then one sad day I got the call that Leonard had died and my best friend Mike died 2 weeks later in a freak accident.

After that I developed a few more relationships with fellow rockhounds, many of them being elder and going thru the same unfortunate process of getting to know them and then watching them die. It's sad, it really is.

So what prompted me to write this you ask? Well.....I was just digging thru some rock piles out back looking for some stones to decorate a water fountain I just made and I happend to come across some rock slabs. I instantly recognized them. Leonard gave them to me almost 30 years ago. With all that is going on in this day and age with the economy etc. this really took me back. How time goes by.

I still drive by the old neighborhood on occasion, stopping to look at Leonards house and it still looks the same. I know he isn't there, but the memories still are and I can still picture him standing there in the yard. For some reason I am drawn to it and everytime im there I can hear him say "come on over."

From Rob Noble - October 06, 2008 at 08:28:03
Email: noblelapidary[ ]yahoo.com

Message: 67052