Norm Hunter went to the big bonspiel in the sky Friday at age '83. Years ago he was the skip of the Hunter Rink, our company curling team, teaching a series of younger men how to curl, be honest men, and drink good Scotch whiskey.
The above sketch was done about 30 years ago, maybe more. Norm didn't change much, other than his mustache whitening to match his hair. He was a good man to spend time with. I hadn't seen him in years, yet I am saddened at his passing. He had an easy smile and a flash temper. I was a full foot taller and probably a hundred pounds heavier than Norm, yet I recall one time he felt I disrespected him. His response was, "How would you like me to hit you on the side of your dumbshit head with this Coke bottle?" I didn't, so I hastily apologized. I hope his ice is true and he had the hammer coming home.
(What the hell kind of mickey mouse spellcheck program questions "bonspiel" as a word?)