Will Miss Wyn
It was with a little curiosity that I opened the letter from the Bethel Lodge. The Lodge serves as one of the threads connecting me to my home town and its people. The first thing I saw was the name of a Brother, Wyn Haskell. I knew the rest without reading it, Wyn had lost his grip on this life. My tears were immediate. Wyn had always extended kindness to me and in an exchange of notes over the last few years he had shown a genuine interest in my life.
My first deep impression of Wyn came in the spring of 1974 when I was a groomer at Sunday River Skiway. Wyn was an avid skier, had raised his family to be skiers as well and he wore the "rusty" parka of the National Ski Patrol. I was standing in the base lodge at Sunday River after a long night of grinding frozen granular and ice patches into a smooth coat of, dare I say, ice crystals? Wyn came in after helping to open the hill and was beaming. He strode over to me, put his hand on my shoulder and said in a booming statement, "That’s the best Punch (Sunday Punch) has been all year!.” I couldn’t believe it! Wyn’s enthusiasm prompted me to go over to the Sunri Ski Shop and rent skis so that I could see for myself. My run was a disaster, not being a skier I couldn’t fully appreciate the difference between Sunday Punch before and after. Dick Bryant wouldn’t take any money for the rental, I hadn’t been out that long. Wyn’s confidence and enthusiasm swept up all in its path.
Several times, over his skiing years, Wyn would look me up and we would chat about the ski hill and its development. He shared his insights freely, he helped me mature. Wyn always worked when he volunteered. On the ski hill he would have a shovel, a saw, a piece of bamboo – some tool or equipment to fix one more thing that he had seen.
I will miss Wyn’s infectious spirit and genuine kindness. I am hopeful that he and Judy are laughing somewhere, skis on, in powder up to their knees.
With my deepest gratitude,
Gallatin Gateway, Mont.