I first met Al shortly after I started to work at Northern Metalic. It was lunchtime, and the office was deserted; I was sitting by the window watching the traffic. Suddenly, I saw this “old farmer” come walking down the hall from Linda’s office. He saw me, smiled, sauntered over, and sat opposite me. We began talking about the weather and soon were chatting away, watching the world go by. He was there maybe 1/2 hour and got up and said he needed to go home to see “his bride” and hoped that I liked working here and we would chat another day. I only learned later that day who he was.

A few years later, he came into the office all spiffed up. I commented that he looked good; he put his thumbs under his suspenders and said, “I clean up pretty good,” smiling away. He was always so friendly no matter where or who you were.

My husband started working for Al on the farm about six years ago; he greatly respected him. Some days, he would come home and tell me about the drive he and “Ol AlleyCat” had and some of the stories (I wished I was a fly in the vehicle with them). I’m sure there may have been some scheming, but I am not sure who was the bad influence with them.

We would almost always run into him on the weekend when we went to feed the horses. He loved the colts and was so proud of them; he couldn’t wait to see if they would be a good runner. We had a lot of good talks across the fence from the ponies, and he truly had a way with them. The one time he and Charlie were trying to move a couple, and this one was a real pain; he didn’t get upset or anything, just “had a little talk” with her.

He always said when it was time to leave, he had to go see “his bride.” After 69 years, their love for each other was as strong and sweet as ever.

Our condolences go to Grandma and Al’s family and friends; there will be a great void wherever his footsteps travelled.