An old text message group from my past Quartzsite friends got reactivated last night with a request to call Darryl as soon as possible. Some news is just not fit to be conveyed by text message, and this was one such case. Wayne, one of the few people I’ve camped with in Quartzsite all three winters I’ve been there, passed away yesterday. (He’s the one on the far left of the picture.)
None of us saw it coming. I hadn’t talked with him in a little while, but Amanda just spoke with him last week. Some of the group was starting to plan a Thanksgiving van gathering at his place, much like we did last October. I guess that won’t be happening now.
I’m glad I got to spend as much time with him as I did, especially this past season. That gathering at his place was the big party before many of us went our separate ways for the winter. He was so happy to have a whole bunch of vans camping out in his yard. As nomads, we’re extremely self-sufficient, but that didn’t stop him from making dinner for all of us almost every night and keeping the Modelo flowing freely. He didn’t have to, but he wanted to. When he learned that I really don’t like tequila, he got a bottle of rum so just that I could join them for shots. That’s the kind of guy he was.
I got the impression that he didn’t have many close friends. Darryl and Marilyn stay at an RV park across town from him most of the time, and they’ve hung out regularly. The rest of us had kind of become his extended family. We met by chance that first winter in Quartzsite, then chose to reunite the following year. Wayne didn’t spend too much time in Quartzsite last season because of his teaching jobs, but we still got to hang out a bit. And that’s how I’ll remember him.
Smokey Da Van 