I just now have the time to write about Ron. My mother passed away just a few days before Ron's accident, and I have been totally consumed trying to get her affairs in order.
Ferro called and told me about the accident, and I thought he was pulling my leg, but he was not. Ron was a great friend, really way more then I thought. Last year, when I broke down on I20 going to the Ga Rally, I tried everything I could to get going again. Nothing worked, and as it turned out, i didn't have what I need to fix the truck, even if I knew what was wrong with it. I called Ron, knowing that he was already at the rally site, and told him of my problems. Ron dropped everything, and I mean everything, to come out and rescue my tired, pissed off ass off the side of I20.
He got my truck to the rally site, and then we helped me get to the point where i could sleep in my hooch. I offered to help him set up camp, but no, we were both worn out, and he was just gonna sleep in the cab of the 931. I offered the other bed in the hooch-he wouldn't hear of it. The next day, we finished setting up camp, and then started working on the 814. Once we found the problem(pickup tube was broken off in the fuel tank), he devised a dead simple fix, and helped me install it, to get the 814 running again. Then, when the 814 died again going home, he came back out, and dragged my mess back to the rally site.
We were always the first to the rally, and I enjoyed the quiet nights before the rally geared up. We would sit around the fire, and Ron would get to the "feeling no pain stage" on my whiskey. I always considered it a fair trade- Ron would tell stories about the war, life in California, and his travels around the states. He always had a project going, and was pleased that he was doing stuff that no one else had thought of.
Rest in Peace my dear friend. I will raise one in your honor at the fire, and I will always have an empty chair for you to come sit in at the rally.