Upon the death of a Friend
Golden lads and girls all must.
As chimney-sweepers come to dust.
Cymbeline, act iv
Donald Grant Ralston left these Colorado
mountains from his recent retirement in Texas on May 31, 2014. He was 87.
Don came down to
Boulder from Jim Town in 1939 with his father and mother, Lassus and Eunice Ralston
to enter Northside Junior High School. Lassus had for sometime had been
prospecting for gold around Jim Town and opened a producing tungsten mine in
Boulder Canyon, just above Boulder Falls.
With Don’s passing
we have lost one of the last of the genuine hard-rock gold miners—all that his
father had taught him of that great calling. Together they were the ideal of
what it is to be an Old Timer.
Don grew up in
Boulder and was educated at the university. He prepared to teach English and taught
briefly in Wyoming before his long and distinguished career in California-- with
his big, liberal, skeptical mind.
He married his Boulder
sweetheart Donna Tomlin, who lived in the Whittier neighborhood of east Pine
Street, the neighborhood that was to have such a profound effect on seven of
its kids who ganged up there to hunt and fish, smoke their pipes, try to decide
which was the greater music, the Wabash
Canon Ball or the Overture to Tannhäuser,
and to take their lives in earnest as they prepared to go to war when they
graduated from Boulder High in 1944.
They belonged to
each other then and always.
Let me call the
roll:
Ralph Metcalf, their head man (killed on Luzon, age 18)
Don Ralston
Frank Brady
Wes Jones
Alan Olson
Bill Rickard
Gordon Wickstrom
I, Gordon Wickstrom,
make this statement about our dear friend on behalf of myself and William H.
Rickard, we two from east Pine, who remain of those golden lads of Boulder
that the seven of us once were.
We shall never again
know that special heart’s grandeur of the old naval gunners mate Don Ralston—down
in the mines, in those classrooms, on fishing trips to North Park. Nor shall we
ever again rally to hear him inveigh against our national passion for wars and
the injustices at home that support them.
But we had him for
a lifetime.
3 comments:
Oh, Gordon, how he loved you. You were so much of who he was and who he became. Thank you for loving him and thank you for your kind and touching words. I hope I can read them at his memorial service without breaking down. Denise
Gordon, forgive am intrusion on your grief. Only wanted to say how much you meant to me all those years ago at F&M.
Leslie Berkley
Gordon, I can't say exactly why I have read this as many times as I have (which is a great many times), but I believe your friend would smile warmly at your words.
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