Man, I'm so saddened by your untimely departure off this mortal coil, Andy. And I don't mind admitting, that it physically hurts. My lasting memories of you you will always be filled with belly aching laughs from the banter we always had when we spoke together. And most vivid in my mind is the time when I went through a rough patch in my life, you would have near enough given your last shirt to me, and shared your home and friends with me in the hope that it will bring me round. I will always be grateful for that. Have a good trip to wherever you're heading, Andy. Much love, Pete "The German", Somerset.
Leaves me with just this little extract from W. H. Auden's poem:
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Sent by Peter Steinhardt on 27/03/2009