Dr. Roger McIntire

Dr. Roger McIntire, my uncle passed last night he was 90. There of course will be a long and thoughtful obituary. It will likely even appear in the Washington Post for he was a part of Washington DC fabric for more than half a century.

Besides being my father's brother he was a graduate of LSU where he obtained a PhD and a Dean at the University of Maryland for more than 30 years. He was an author and a pilot as well as a world traveler.

I'm blessed to have known my uncles, Dick, Charlie and now Roger as they were all inspiring and thoughtful, never lacked for a good story and each offered a tremendous example for a life well lived.

And so it is that the final lines of  Norman Maclean's A River Runs Through It is a fitting statement as to how I see things this morning especially the last two paragraphs that echo the Bible and the true American idiom:

“Now nearly all those I loved and did not understand when I was young are dead, but I still reach out to them.

Of course, now I am too old to be much of a fisherman, and now of course I usually fish the big waters alone, although some friends think I shouldn’t. 

Like many fly fisherman in western Montana, where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. 

The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. 

I am haunted by waters.”