R.I.P. Pat Shatzel

If we were to poll the class with a question like, "who among the class of 1966 do you consider your friend?" I'm pretty sure Pat would get the most votes. He didn't belong to a crowd; he belonged to every crowd. In the years after we graduated, he was an alumni leader, an organizer, and the class's biggest cheerleader.

Shatz changed less since high school than anyone else. The man was granted the gift of endless youth, with all the open-hearted, fun-loving spirit that implies. Nobody laughed more. We all must pass from this realm, but when Pat had to go, it was appropriate that he did it in his sleep, on a golfing trip, not old and infirm. R.I.P. to our Peter Pan. 

Hey, buddy, keep your head down, and drive the ball toward the second star on the right, then straight on 'til morning.