Tuesday, January 23, 2024
I'll never forget the day I met Jim. It was 1969 and I, a wet-behind-the-ears engineering grad, was attending my first group meeting at Xerox. As the meeting broke up the man I already knew to be Jim Rees came over and said "So, you are this Altfather turkey". My initial reaction was 'How does he already know I'm an imposter'. That began our long-time friendship.
Over the course of 30 years, we went on one or two camping trips a year, usually choosing to celebrate Mother's Day in that manner - not exactly to Mary's liking. We hiked, bushwacked, climbed, paddled, and laughed all over the Adirondacks. We shared a week at a wilderness survival camp in NJ, with Jim habitually poking fun at everything. We read Tony Hillerman books and greeted each other with the Navajo, Ya-te-hay. We built sweat lodges and roasted ourselves.
Of all the jokes, laughs, and conversations, one observation of Jim's has been elevated to a maxim that I keep readily at hand. We were attempting to bushwack our way through a bog without getting knee-deep in muck. For 15 minutes our total focus was on each single step towards a tiny high spot. And then Jim lifted his head and said "Look on the other side". There was no possibility of further progress.
Since that day, the Rees Maxim has stuck with me. I use it frequently and it always triggers fond memories.
I'm unable to attend the memorial service, but I'm going to keep looking on the other side and I hope to greet him again someday with another Ya-te-hay.
Ken Altfather
