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I had to fortune to have spent time with Jim at his home in Angola on more than one occasion. I worked with his daughter at the time, and she know how big a hockey fan I was. Jim needed some work done on his computer, so his daughter asked me to come do it.
He lived in a small house near Evangola State Park, right on the lake. Just Jim and his wife. I figured that he would just have me do what work he wanted and that was it, but he was probably the most hospitable person I've ever met. I had gone down right after work, and he insisted that we eat dinner first. We walked a couple houses down to a relative of his, and I had a wonderful meal. They treated me like family, which really resonated at the time because of my own personal life back then. After dinner, he decided that the water looked right, and he wanted to take the boat out. So, we hopped in his truck, and drove down to Sturgeon Point. We cruised around Lake Erie for a couple hours until the sun set, and headed back. I'm not a big boater, although I want one someday, but Jim talked about what I should look for in a boat, good spots to go so, how relaxing it was.
When we got back to the house, it was getting late, so he asked if I could come down another time to work on the computer. I ended up coming back the next week. Again, he insisted on dinner first, and they treated me to a great spread. After dinner, we headed up to his office to look at the computer. It was almost surreal. Small room, maybe 10 by 10 at most. One wall was a built in bookshelf just overflowing with hockey books. Media guides from every NHL team that you could think of, and probably every book about hockey every written. His desk, more cluttered than mine, had a note pinned on the wall. I didn't think much of it at a first glance, but then I saw a '#16' on it. I looked at it closer, and it was a personal note from Pat LaFontaine dated the day he was traded to the Rangers, thanking Jim for his friendship during his time in Buffalo. On the wall were other similar notes from other players. Jim seemed most proud of that note from Patty though.
I worked on the computer, and we talked. I wish I could remember some of the stories that he told, but at that point I was in awe of just being there. At one point, he closed his office door so I could see what he had hanging on the back of it; the shirt and tie he was wearing when Hasek attacked him. There was an obvious tear, and it had been signed by anyone you could ever think of in the hockey media. He seemed very proud of it, as I think he should have been.
After I finished up his machine, he said he wanted to give me something for my troubles. I didn't want to take anything; just the experience of having met the man was enough for me. But, he insisted. He gave me a French Connection plaque, and my crown jewel of sports memorabilia, a complete set of unused season tickets from the Sabres last season in the Aud.
I emailed him now and again over the years, not so much to talk about hockey,but just to say hello. It always surprised me that he remember who I was, and was always very friendly, not like I was bothering him. I last emailed him when it came out that he had cancer. He was upbeat about it, confident that he would beat it. It pains me to know that he didn't.
Rest in peace Jim.
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