What to say about Carl?  There is an American predilection, of overly-venerating the dead.  That said, I am going to state–without fear of any sort of contradiction (internal or external)–that Carl, was the sweetest, most good-natured old man, you could even imagine.  And who also had a real sense of humor.  :) I remember, him telling me–cheerfully–that he was no relation to Harry Potter.  ;) (Even now, I can't look at these pictures of him, without smiling.)  And I'll NEVER forget, his bone-crushing handshake.

       :) ;)

      The Congregational Church of North Chelmsford put on an absolutely wonderful service for him, followed by a really nice nosh in the gym.

      There I beheld this amazing diorama.  I had only known Carl as an old man—it had never consciously occurred to me, that he had once been young:

      Of all the pictures (many!), I like this one the best.

      And–purely by accident–I managed to capture the words/sentiment I am going to close this one on: "Cherish each moment."

      Because hey, ya' never know. . . .

      ADDENDUM: After I had posted the first version of this page, I realized I had forgotten to mention something—that has really been on my mind. . . .

      There have been two people, who have really made a mark on me, with the last things they have done in/with their lives.  (Okay—an honorable mention, goes to some apocryphal, final words of Oscar Wilde, but. . . .)  One is Richard Feynman—Nobel-winning physicist: "This dying, is boring."  Wow. The other is Carl Potter, whose last action on this Earth, was winking, at his wife and daughter.

Wow.