Tuesday, August 14, 2018

I'd Tell You the Story If I Knew the Story

Last night I mentioned a "major issue" that hit friends close enough to feel like family.  I can only tell you the vaguest overview of the story, because it's all I know for sure. 

Our friends, whom I'll call Gilligan and Mary Ann, are a few years younger than Mrs. Graybeard and I, so still working.  That tends to limit the times we can see each other.  Gilligan worked in home construction, while Mary Ann is a secretary in the corporate world.  Gilligan and I used to joke about doing "roofercize" on the roofs around here in the summer, or other problems of working construction when you're over 50.  Super sweet, super nice folks.  Mary Ann was out with her mother on Sunday, and when she arrived home she found him dead in the hallway of their home.  Shot twice in the chest.

We've been unable to get more details, but with nothing missing the police are saying "probably a botched robbery".  Perhaps Gilligan was in another room and walked in on the criminal, or perhaps he was also away, returned home, and walked in on the crime in process.  It's possible that it's weirder than that.  One of the things that strikes us the strangest is that there is nothing in the local newspaper, or any local news we can search online. 

So, while we're feeling a bit more normal a day later, it's still hard not to think about.  We're still missing a story; some framework to force some context and sense onto the situation. 

Both Gilligan and Mary Ann are OK with guns: we've talked about going to the range several times, but with construction being busy around here, work had been keeping him busy enough that it was hard to arrange a time.  We never talked lots of details about what that meant practically.  Was he ambushed?  Walked in and the other guy shot first?  Was there exchange of fire?  We simply have no idea. 


  1. Damn. I'm sorry about your friend.

  2. Double damn....

    Something similar happened to a young lady friend of mine years ago, so I know how you feel.

  3. Such an evil waste of a life.

  4. If he was in construction, I'd bet on a dispute with someone who worked for/with him. An old friend was in the low-end house rental and renovation biz here and we came home from our Christmas trip one year to find he'd been murdered while we were gone. Beaten to death with a hammer. A mexican who worked for him was arrested, then released for lack of evidence and was never heard from again.

  5. I'm sorry about your friend. It is never a good time to lose anyone, and these circumstances seem worse than most.