TOM TOWNSEND

       I first met Tom Townsend in December 1970. I had gone to the local paper station with a buddy of mine to sign up for a paper route. When I got there, the guy all the other boys called "Tommy'' was not around. They said he was off spotting, but would be back in a little while. At that point in time I didn't know what spotting was or meant, but I decided to hang around and wait for this guy anyway. Little did I know that this simple decision would change the course of my life for many years to come.

The paper station I had gone to was a fairly mull garage converted to Denver Post use. It was dimly lit, with a lot of great big boys hanging around, beating up on the littler kids. AII of the kids, no matter what size, seemed to use a lot of very bad language. At this point in my life, my exposure to swear words had been extremely limited.

Needless to say, this seemed to be a very intimidating environment. While all of the big kids had let me alone so far, they kept looking over at me in a threatening way. I wasn't sure whether I should wet my pants or just run away. 1 was sure however that (any of those big kids said anything bad to me I would break out into tears. I tried my best to just be invisible, and not look directly at any of the other kids there. Even my buddy, who I had came wait deserted me and now seemed to be part of the other group of boys, and it felt like every one of them were staring at me now. It seemed pretty clear that 1 was considered an intruder into their "family".

During the interminable wait, 1 tried to listen to what everyone was talking about. All of the kids kept talking about this guy named "Tommy" like he was a superhero. It was very clear that they all worshiped the ground he walked on, and they told tales of his superhuman feats. I couldn't wait for this guy to show back up. I figured he had to be Superman and he would save me from all this big kids and their vulgar language.

At some point in time a car pulled up. My buddy pointed and said, "That's Tommy". I was sure he was pulling my leg. After all the tales the other boys had told me about this guy, I was sure that this couldn't be «Tommy». He wasn't very big, didn't have movie star good luck, and in fact didn't seem to be extraordinary in any way at all. He came up to me and introduced himself with his famous, "Hi, I'm Tommy Townsend". As soon as he walked in, the atmosphere in the station seemed to change, and the big kids seemed to be not quite as intimidating. Tommy escorted me to his desk, where I filled out an application for a paper route. During the interview process, I started getting to know this guy who turned out to be the be the "Pied Piper of The Denver Post".

Tommy was very friendly, but I couldn't glare out what language he was speaking. It sounded kind of like English but he didn't use English like anybody I had ever met before. In fact I am sure a lot of the words he used, he had made up himself. Interspersed between these strange words was a large quantity of very graphic swear words. Each time Tommy would bust out one of these swear words, it would delight all of the kids who were now watching Tommy work his magic on me. I was hooked forever. During the interview process, I heard a noise that sounded kind of like a fart. I just pretended to ignore it, while the kids around us burst into laughter. My exposure to public farts at that point in time had been more limited than my exposure to cuss words.

Since I was desperate to get a route, Tommy told me I needed to substitute on a paper route for another carrier who needed a couple of days off. If I did well there, he would find a route for me. Tommy introduced me to that other carrier who turned out to be Kirk McCartney. I subbed Kirk's route for three days and did at least good enough that Tommy got me my very own Denver Post newspaper route. Kirk paid me for this substitution work, an agreed upon Elliott, less some money for a couple of complaints I had gotten while he was gone. I was to learn later that he had paid me a lot less than the going amount for substitution plus he had jacked up the complaint rate to more than he had been charged. I also learned later that none of the other kids would substitute for him because of his famous financial practices, and in fact referred to Kirk as "Hugh the Jew". Nonetheless I was in heaved because I had a route of my own.

Once I started my route. I was in day to day contact with Tommy and the crew of boys. The big boys started picking on me in addition to the other little kids. The more I got to know the big boys, the worse they picked on me. And most of the time, it even seemed to be good natured. I just couldn't wait to grow up and become one of the big kids so I could beat upon the little kids too. Over the months that followed, I quickly became ingrained into the family that I had joined. This family included (Larry, Randy, Steve and Mike Brenner), (Rich, Bob, and Calvin Gomogda), (Don, Doug and Bob Case), (Tony, Kevin and Shawn Mulligan), Dave Peters, (Tim and Dave Hernandez), (Mike and Chris Brungardt), (Kenny and Kathy Burnside), (Mark, Laurie, John and Dean Altman), (Charlie, Louie and Franks Pugliese), (John and Joel Ulander), (Jeff and Joel Barnhill), (Rodney and Robert Richmond), Kurt Ellis, (Randy and Timmy Lorenz), Ron Watson, Logan Faser, Steve Carlson, Earl Proffit, Mike Pereton, Frank Evans, and the Allons family.

You will note that there are many different families represented here, but when we were working together we were truly one family. Just like any family, we would fight amongst ourselves, and grow into little cliques, but if some outsider messed with one of our "brothers", they messed with his all. We were banned from almost all of the roller skating rinks in the Denver area, just because of that fact.

Tommy was the driving force that molded us into this family. If one of our carriers was hurt, we all worked together to get his route thrown and collected. Tom was good at using peer pressure to get us all to raise our performance. Our paper bills were due on the first, and iffy all paid our bills on time, Tom would take us roller skating. If one bill was late, none of us could go. You surely didn't want to be the person responsible for us not to be able to go on an outing with Tommy. We never failed to get to go skating during my tenure, but I do recall many death threats being made to Kirk McCartney, who always pushed the deadline right up to the last minute.

Tom was always pushing us to greater heights in performance on our routes. He was very demanding of our service and expected us all to take personal responsibility for the service of the customers on our routes. We frequently would go out selling on our routes in order to increase the number of subscribers we had. Tom would always make sure we had some reward for our sales efforts. Over the years we took many carrier trips together including: Disneyland, Disney World, Six Flags Over Texas, Durango, Royal Gorge and Cheyenne Frontier Days. These trips taken without your parents turned into many memory makers for all of us (most of which we are sworn to secrecy on).

Tom taught us all many things in our youth, and not just things limited to our business needs. In addition to the swearing we all quickly picked up, Tom had a particular talent for breaking wind. This encouraged all of the carriers to try their best at emulating Tom. One of the favorite tricks of the big kids was to make the little kids fold in a corner of the nation, where the big kids would take turns coming over and farting. If they could make you gag, you were in for worse trouble. At first I thought this was pretty gross, but before you know it I was down at Taco Bell every Saturday night eating frijoles, so I could defend myself in the station come Sunday morning. We even developed a game regarding this particular body function. 1 don't recall the name of this game, but when somebody farted, you had to touch wood and holler "VO"'. The last person to touch wood and holler "VO"' got stuck eating the fart. This was a major source of enjoyment to us in the station and on the many trips we took with Tommy. We even developed additional rules for the game as time went along. Since wood was not always handy, we came to an agreement that paper was a wood product and thereby acceptable as a wood substitute. Once we accepted paper, two other memorable rules were invented. You couldn't "VO" on a Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket, nor a Budweiser 12 pack box. Both of these were considered a sacrilege. Also if you pretended to fart, and got somebody else to holler "VO", that was considered a false "VO" and you had to eat the next 5 farts as a penalty.

It has been more than twenty years since we played this game on a serious basis, but in the right group of people, yelling "VO" will still send a bunch of balding adults diving for wood. You still don't want to eat that nasty fart.

As you can tell, Tommy was most thorough in our education. While we were always having fun at our business, Tommy made sure we all took care of our business in a professional manner. Tommy just didn't let our education stop at the business side. I can't imagine a more wonderful places to grow up than under the tutelage of Tommy Townsend.

The time that I worked for Tommy as a carrier was the early 1970's. It wasn't the touchy-felly era of the 90's. At that time, men were expected to be macho and tough. We sure didn't go around the paper station hugging each other and saying "I Love you". But with Tommy, you knew he cared about each and every one of us. Tommy would and did do "anything in the world"' for any one of his carriers. Tommy's helping us extended way beyond our business relationship. Tom would act as a counselor for you when you needed it. Help you find your first car or your first girlfriend. Threaten a bully for you, or just kick your ass when you needed it most. As Pat Brenner most succinctly told me the other day "Tommy did a lot of good things for a lot of you kids for a lot of years". I couldn't put that any better myself.

I left for college in 1975, leaving Tommy and the rest of my fiends to carry on the tradition of District 43.

I returned from college and started a new chapter in my relationship with Tommy. Tom was no longer my boss. I was now an employee of The Denver Post, starting out as a District Advisor. Tom had been promoted to a Supervisor at some time in the past. Even though Tom wasn't my boss, he continued on with my education Tom always had time to work through a problem with you or discuss a problem employee. He would never tell you he was too busy, or put you off until later. He would also still kick your ass whenever you truly needed it.

The magic I had personally seen Tommy weave when I was a carrier continued as Tommy would weave his magic over his employees. Will Rogers always claimed that "he never met a man he didn't like", Tom Townsend never met a man "who wasn't a superstar". Tommy could always bring out the best performance in every single employee who worked for him. Throughout the many years Tommy was in management at the Post, nobody ever had better success with their employees than Tommy did. I am sure that many of you here today are here because you worked for Tommy at some point in time. You were lucky enough to have worked for Tommy, I'm sure you feel the same way about Tommy as I do.

Tommy Language. Tommy spoke his own language, and if he didn't have a word for what he wanted he just made one up. You couldn't order food in a restaurant without a "map" (menu), nor eat it when it came without "tools" (knife, fork and spoon). When you were done you had to stop by the front door on the way out and get some "lumber or a board" (toothpick). If Tommy needed a quarter to buy a pop, he would say "bum me a queach" or "loan me a hole".

One of his favorite terms of endearment was "Hey Motherjumper''. When he called you that, you few you had won his favor. Probably Tommy's most favorite line in recent years was to walk up to somebody, shake his hand and announce "Hi, I'm Butt Ugly".

Nicknames. Nicknames were a big part of our life at the paper station and this tradition has continued on at the Post for many years. Some of these names Tommy was responsible for, some not. Some of the most memorable names of the past 20 years:

Paper Station - Toby, Toadstool, Scary Larry, Joel Barnhole, Chong and Chongo, Pugs, Dildo Don, Hugh the Jew, and the Denver Dog.

Post – The Golden Boy, Big Shade, Crack, Dirtball, Pillsbury Doughboy, Rodent, Grampa, Sonny Boy, DefBoy, Beanie Boy, Buffy, Jody and Mr. French, Squeaky.

Teacher. Even though Tommy never completed his formal education he was one of the smartest people I ever met. He continued to be a teacher for others all of his life. Some of the things I learned from Tommy include:

The value and benefits of hard work. Tommy always said "you work hard, you play harder. But you don't play until the work is done's". Responsibility. Respect. Leadership. Pride. People skills - probably Tommy's greatest attribute. Caring. Patience. Impatience.

A couple of talents I nurtured under Tommy's guidance that my mother and father disown. Cussing and Swearing - I can hold my own. Passing Gas - I am World Class - I excel in tone quality, volume, substance, quantity, and hang time. I am also a master of the following types of farts - SBD's, Electric Farts and Atomic Farts.

Family. Even though Tommy introduced me to his mistress, The Denver Post, Tommy has a great family. His wife, Pat, who in the last 10 years was elevated to sainthood for her continued devotion to Tom and is now allows as "St Pat". That name is truly deserved. Pat is now retired from the insurance industry. He also has a daughter Cathy and son Tim.

Cathy is married to Bob Arthur and has three children, Scottie, Amanda and Brandon. After Tommy's retirement from the Post, he took up grand fathering with a passion. He spent many days at school with his grandchildren and became active with the juvenile Diabetes Foundation. Tommy loved gong to school and working with the children, continuing his lifes work of teaching. He was particularly proud one day when ha called and told me he had to "go to time out today". I asked why, and he proudly said because I "said a bad word". I'm sure that Tommy served out his sentence in "time out" with pride and dignity.

Tim works at US West in new computer programming and is a very talented individual. Tom and Tim's relationship has been a roller coaster ride over the years. They didn't always see eye to eye on every subject. One of Tom's greatest joys in the his last month was a meeting of the minds with Tim. When I recently visited Tom in the hospital, Tommy announced "I got my son back" as soon as I walked in the door. Tom was as fired with passion that day, as I seen him in many years. Tim recently took Family Medical leave from his job to enable him to spend more time with his father.

One day when I went to see Tom at the rehab center a few months back we started reminiscing about the old days. When we got up to the recent past and Toms current medical condition, Tom told me "somewhere along the way I lost my focus on life". He thought that point came when his favorite golf clubs had gotten stolen. I remarked that he had many golf clubs and they could be replaced. Tom stated "all my life, if I couldn't have state of the art shit, I just didn't want to do it, not just any clubs will do". We let it at that, and I left the rehab center shortly after. While driving home I was rehashing our conversation. I called Tom back at the center and told him "you don't need state of the art golf clubs, because you've got a state of the art family and that's all a guy needs". Tommy's simple reply was "you know, you're right man, thanks".

Shortly after that visit, Tommy was moved back to a hospital where his condition continued to deteriorate. I had the opportunity to visit Tommy on a few occasion there. On one of the last occasions, I was alone with Tommy and was trying to express to him how much he had meant to me and my friends over the years. I was doing a very poor job of it and struggling to find the right words. Tommy grabbed my hand, pulled me over to the bed, gave me a monster hug and told me "I love you man, you've always been there for me". It was the nicest thing Tommy has ever done for me in my life.

It was not long after that visit that Tommy called me at home and in typical blunt Tommy fashion stated "I'm dying man". I tried to be flip and responded "We're all dying Tommy". He said "No, I'm checking out, Pat will explain". Pat got on the phone and related the nature of the situation, its gravity and recent conversation with the doctor. The next day I took my wife and kids to see Tommy. My children made a "get well soon" card for Tommy on their computer. I couldn't bring myself to explain to them it was not a "get well" type situation. We got to the hospital and got in the "take a number and wait your turn" line to see Tommy. When our turn came, Tommy got my children, Charlie and Katie over to is bed alone. He held each of their hands and huddled in quiet conversation with them for many minutes. When my children raised their heads, they both had beaming smiles on their faces, with no trace of sorrow. I had once again witnessed Tommy Townsend weaving his magic with every single person he came in contact with.

April 8th, 1998