About 90 people gathered on the hill side of a small cemetary in Naselle Washington ten days ago, to celebrate the life and the death of Joe Pentilla. Joe lived with his daughters in Petersburg during our time there. We grew to love Joe and his family. Joe lived his life to the fullest. Every time you met him he would flash his big smile. He always seemed happy, but when you visited with him he usually reminded you of what a wonderful person his wife Dorothy had been and then there was a sadness in his voice. We gathered in the rain under the multicolored umbrellas.
His daughter Teri and her husband Rob were checking last minute details with Al. Al was in charge of the service. He gave a little sermon, we prayed, we sang, and we remembered. The service ended when his Son-in-law played "Amazaing Grace" on the harmonica. The tears mingled with the rain drops.
Joe spent much of his life working with wood. He and his family lived on an island near Petersburg during the summers where he had a logging company. In his later years he could be found in his workshop still working with wood. It was fitting that his casket was made from pine. After the service we all gathered for a luncheon and more stories of Joe's life were shared by many. God Bless the memory of Joe Pentilla.
The weekend we were in Long Beach for the service the beach was opened for clamming. Friday night there were about 15 who braved the cold and most of them came back with their limits. On Saturday afternoon it was a little different. There had been an earthquake in Chilie and there was a warning for the Washington coast for a tsumani. By Saturday afternoon, they figured the tsumani was not coming so they headed out again. The sea was angry and the clams dug down deeper in the sand. I don't thing anyone came home with their limit that day. I guess we are happy they came back with some clams and the tidal wave didn't come.
Al enjoyed being on the beach with his little shovel and bucket. We now have some clams in the freezer at home.
No comments:
Post a Comment