I lost a neighbor recently. I don't know when he died, and it's not like we saw him a regular basis. I tend to skim the obituaries in the Sunday newspaper, although I assume that I won't find anyone familiar. We've lived here for 20 years but almost any death is "reported" through the community, the s.f. people who make up most of our world in Seattle. So I was taken aback that my automatic scan of the newspaper brought news of the death of one of our neighbors, Kent Kammerer.

Man, I liked Kent. I knew him to chat with. When he was outside the house, as I or we Stu and I, would head to or from running errands in the neighborhood. His house was a half a block away. I did not know his history (seen in the obit) but I knew his enthusiasm for the city of Seattle, for the neighborhood we live in, for making life one where you are involved, you speak up, you have opinions. Kent taught art - ART - for most of his life. He also taught ceramics and photography to high school students. Wow.

Kent tried to get me to come to meetings of the Seattle Neighborhood Coalition, which yes, did interest me. He would have given me a ride, loading the manual wheelchair in the car. Mind you, the guy was 20 years older than me. And I never made it to a meeting as oh, it was just too early for me to get up on Saturday. I never knew, even after several conversations, that he'd actually created/founded the SNC. He also was willing to wake up at YUCK o'clock to drive his across-the-street friend and neighborhood to the airport, as i learned one day trundling by from one of my schleps.

Some months ago, maybe a year ago, a new commission was forming in Seattle and I wanted to apply to be on it. One day, magically, an application form appeared stuck between the storm and screen doors of the house. I did not know for what must have been six months that Kent had walked down to the house and left the form there for me. When I expressed my frustration, dismay and yes, hurt that I had not even been granted an interview for this volunteer gig (for which I was hugely qualified) he shared my mood and we talked about "Politics" as a factor. We both loved small "p" politics, but not that other kind.

The last time I talk Kent and his loquacious wife Sonja was when they "crashed" our block party, held on 87th Street back in August. Or July. Oddly enough, we bumped into two neighbors we met that night, Jen (at the grocery store) and Adam (who hosted it) this past week. We hadn't seen either of them since that party. It was a nice reminder - we hope to do it again in 2012.

Yesterday, I attended a meeting where I signed up for a community garden site, a "P-Patch" in nearby Greenwood Park. I hope to garden with a friend who lives nearby. After the meeting, some of us wandered over to see our plots and there are some concerns that, well, I'm not sure they can be addressed. I might have to withdraw. We'll see. I don't know who did the design and measurement, but there are issues, what can I say? Aren't there always? And I've been assured all will be well. I hope so; gardening soothes my soul like nothing else i know. But I know how much I was looking forward to talking about this with Kent the next time I went down the street on the way back from the grocery store. i might have even teased him about borrowing his level, which I saw him using a while back to ensure that some plantings in front of their house were even.

It appears that Kent Kammerer had a good life.He had a creative life, sharing skills and talents and was engaged in many ways in his city and community. It's a legacy to be damn proud of. His obituary suggests that to honor hi, people give time or money - bless them for that - to serve the arts, education or community civic interests. Right on.