Letters

Letters 09-26-2016

Welcome To 1984 The Democrat Party, the government education complex, private corporations and foundations, the news media and the allpervasive sports and entertainment industry have incrementally repressed the foundational right of We the People to publicly debate open borders, forced immigration, sanctuary cities and the calamitous destruction of innate gender norms...

Grow Up, Kachadurian Apparently Tom Kachadurian has great words; too bad they make little sense. His Sept. 19 editorial highlights his prevalent beliefs that only Hillary and the Dems are engaged in namecalling and polarizing actions. Huh? What rock does he live under up on Old Mission...

Facts MatterThomas Kachadurian’s “In the Basket” opinion deliberately chooses to twist what Clinton said. He chooses to argue that her basket lumped all into the clearly despicable categories of the racist, sexist, homophobic , etc. segments of the alt right...

Turn Off Fox, Kachadurian I read Thomas Kachadurian’s opinion letter in last week’s issue. It seemed this opinion was the product of someone who offered nothing but what anyone could hear 24/7/365 on Fox News; a one-sided slime job that has been done better by Fox than this writer every day of the year...

Let’s Fix This Political Process Enough! We have been embroiled in the current election cycle for…well, over a year, or is it almost two? What is the benefit of this insanity? Exorbitant amounts of money are spent, candidates are under the microscope day and night, the media – now in action 24/7 – focuses on anything and everything anyone does, and then analyzes until the next event, and on it goes...

Can’t Cut Taxes 

We are in a different place today. The slogan, “Making America Great Again” begs the questions, “great for whom?” and “when was it great?” I have claimed my generation has lived in a bubble since WWII, which has offered a prosperity for a majority of the people. The bubble has burst over the last few decades. The jobs which provided a good living for people without a college degree are vanishing. Unions, which looked out for the welfare of employees, have been shrinking. Businesses have sought to produce goods where labor is not expensive...

Wrong About Clinton In response to Thomas Kachadurian’s column, I have to take issue with many of his points. First, his remarks about Ms. Clinton’s statement regarding Trump supporters was misleading. She was referring to a large segment of his supporters, not all. And the sad fact is that her statement was not a “smug notion.” Rather, it was the sad truth, as witnessed by the large turnout of new voters in the primaries and the ugly incidents at so many of his rallies...

Home · Articles · News · Other Opinions · Roy Taghon
. . . .

Roy Taghon

Ross Boissoneau - January 28th, 2008
We all know we’re going to die, we just don’t want to believe it. Nor do we want to believe that others are.
It doesn’t matter. It still happens every day, far too often. It’s just that some are so unexpected, and leave gaping holes far beyond their family.
That is what Empire is going through right now. If you ever stopped for gas at the station at the corner of M-72 and M-22, the one owned for years by his parents and by his grandparents before them, you probably saw Roy Taghon. He was the skinny guy at the counter, the one with the sparkling eyes dancing behind those big glasses. Forty-two years young, his hair heading south, his legs heading somewhere. Roy was never still for more than about a minute. Too much caffeine, you might think, but the strongest thing I ever saw him drink was milk.
That was just one facet of Roy. If you ever attended Mass, or a wedding or funeral at St. Philip Neri in Empire, you saw another part of Roy. And heard it. As music director there and at St. Rita/St. Joseph and most recently Holy Rosary, he played week in and week out. You could hear the joy and faith as he sang and played, not just playing the music but making it come to life. And while he loved the organ, I loved it when he played piano. He was an excellent organist, but a truly gifted pianist.
If you liked snowmobile riding, you might have seen Roy on his snow machine. That’s what he loved more than anything other than his music. And that’s what he was doing when he died on Sunday, Jan. 20.
The details of his death aren’t important. It’s the depth of his life that stands out. Roy was a gifted musician, true, but more than that, he was a gift. A gift to his family, a gift to his church, a gift to his community. He was the most thoroughly decent person I’ve ever known. In all the years I’ve been a part of this area, I never saw him angry, never heard him utter a cross word about anyone. We should all strive to be more like Roy, one of the purest examples of humanity I will ever know.
Roy is gone now. And I still can’t believe it. None of us can. That death can come for someone so vital, so loved, so full of life, is neither fair nor comprehensible. He played at Mass Sunday morning as usual, and then by afternoon was gone.
We grieve with his parents, Dave and Diane. With his brother and sisters and their families, with his aunts, uncles, cousins. With all the hundreds of people whose lives he touched, with his humor, his music, his great energy for life.
What will I remember? I still hear his voice talking to my wife: “Mary B, Roy T.” Or “Roy Taghon here.” His playing organ while my buddy Bob and I labored to play our trumpets, and then him picking up his to show us how he wanted it done. Not with any impatience or temper -- just this is how it should go. Picking up ice cream from Kilwin’s or Moomers on a hot summer day and dropping it off at his home or the station.
I’ll remember him taking me to see jazz trumpet great Maynard Ferguson in Elk Rapids a few years ago. We were just getting back from a trip to Cedar Point (another of Roy’s favorite places), and met Roy in Traverse City for the trip to Elk Rapids. Maynard was a gas, and we met some of the band following the show. Roy was geeked in the extreme. And it was Roy who called me to give me the sad news of Maynard’s death.
Now it’s Roy who’s gone. There’s a lot less sunshine in the world, that’s for sure. But despite the incredible sadness we all feel in our little hamlet – or here in Mayberry, as Fr. Bill would put it – there’s some joy too. Joy that we knew Roy, as well as his wonderful family. Joy that he brought into our lives for so many years. Joy that, as he always put it at the many funerals he did, “Well, they’re in a better place now.”
We know that, Roy. But we still miss you and we always will. We love you.

Empire resident Ross Boissoneau is a frequent contributor to the Express.


 
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