Monday, November 14, 2022
I met Nat soon after we moved to New Canaan in 1961. Rapscallion is probably a good descriptor for Nat at that age. One winter day at his house, Nat convinced me to go out his bedroom window and onto a steep icy roof to smoke cigarettes. Another death-defying stunt was sledding down Colonial Road, across Valley and into a snowbank. Why we never got pasted by a car is a mystery to this day.
As often happens, we went our separate ways – until young Nathaniel IV passed. It was heart wrenching seeing Nat and Denise so broken and lost. I hope I was a good enough friend in those days. A few years later, at a mutual friends wedding, here came Nat and Denise, Nat proudly pushing a double stroller with Brandon and Trisha.
Rest well Nat, you were a good man.
