In February of 2004 I lost my closest friend, Denny Weidman. It was not totally unexpected, he had been in emotional and physical decline for a while. Still, this man, once the best athlete in Lancaster County, a great basketball and baseball player, drafted by the White Sox, slipped from this earth quietly and alone.
I could list all the times we spent together, playing basketball, partying, arguing, accumulating all the memories that two friends will do over the passage of time. But I chose to include here, my eulogy that I delivered, choking and crying at his memorial service. This constitutes an accurate snapshot of Denny’s and my relationship and past. One thing that I will add is the thoughts of my step daughter, Alicia, which she shared that same day. She said that “If ever anything would have happened to my mother and Chuck, I would have wanted Jane and Denny to raise me“, I can’t imagine higher praise or love, an indication of the place that this man and his wife Jane held in our hearts.
Denny’s Eulogy (2004)
When Jane asked me to speak here today, I wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, what should be mentioned, what would be better left unsaid.
Perhaps, I decided, I should just talk of what I remember about Denny, the memories, souvenirs of a friend.
First, I will remember the basketball we played together at Manor Park on Charlestown road. Sitting on the picnic tables after the games broke up, talking with one or two other guys. We always had a small circle, I am not sure whether it was us keeping them out, or them not wanting in.
In the past 8 years or so. more often than not, it was Hoff, Denny and I together. Discussing just about everything imaginable, a non stop stream of consciousness, feeding off one another as the conversation progressed. Disparate and often comical, these bull sessions caused both my son Jared and Jane to chuckle and remark on several occasions, that we should be on TV.
The fact that we remained such close friends is itself amazing. We certainly didn’t see eye to eye on the one thing that a majority of people hold as essential, politics.
Denny was conservative, so republican in fact, that he wouldn’t take a right hand turn at a redlight. That was too liberal for him. Hoff and I often would bait Weid, just to hear his passionate defense of all things republican or vehement attack of all things democrat. Ted Kennedy and Bill Clinton can both breathe a little easier today.
On a lesser matter, cigars. Weid didn’t feel the need for a fine cigar, sticking with his Phillies or other convenience store brand. Though I don’t remember him ever refusing one from Hoff’s humidor.
We didn’t disagree about everything though;
We both bemoaned the lack of shooting skills, the uncalled walks and three second violations in basketball today.
We both agreed that ESPN and MTV have hastened the decline of American civilization.
We agreed that the state of the spoken English language has declined in direct proportion to the number of times “disrespected” has been uttered into a microphone.
We were both saddened by the fact that neighborhood kids today, because of their parents working, the regimenting of sports and other factors, don’t gather and play baseball all day, every day, all summer. We also blamed the lack of strong pitching arms in the major leagues to this loss.
We also agreed that Joe Paterno is the best thing in college football, but were divided on his retirement.
Last summer, at a Phillies game with my son Jared, I was amazed and touched by Denny’s concern when we took our seats, while Jared waited along the field, attempting to get autographs. Weid was visibly nervous and anxious whenever the crowd obscured our view of Jared. He did not relax until he was seated next to us, autographs in hand. I had never seen that side of Weid before.
Lastly, I will remember all the Sunday afternoons, long ago at my mother’s house. All of us together, with all of our lives ahead. I look back and for those of us that were there, if you can remember, the refrigerator and the words we wrote on that refrigerator door. I remember Denny’s most of all and how much that quote resounds today. Denny wrote, “All there is left is less.“
That is how I feel today, all there is left is less
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