Think I got to meet him once when he stopped by your Pad, Sorry you lost him, brother, love you, and hang in there.
You did meet him. Twice, actually, I think. Thanks for the kind words, gentlemen. He was one in a million, that's certain. Like us all, he had his faults but was a solid dude and one of the most loyal and trustworthy of friends I've ever had. He could spin a yarn like no one's business, too, told with a wide grin in his ridiculously thick Boston accent.
A couple of my favorites: one involved him jumping out a 3rd story courthouse window while in custody and about to face a judge. He took off running like a hare with COs in hot pursuit. He got away and with nothing but lint in his pockets decided to get the hell out of Dodge. Wound up down in Florida after hitching rides, jumping trains and walking. At some point some months later, having been stopped while on a HD by a nasty, obese female cop, he's asked for his license. Astride his scooter (not his), he laughed heartily and said, 'license? Lady, I'm an outlaw and I ain't got no license and I bet you a week's pay you can't catch me!' He then sped off. There was no pursuit.
This was in the late 70s.
Another time, while in a local lockup, he used a borrowed dime to unscrew the vent plate on the back wall of the bullpen next to the toilet. The cell was full of drunks and other losers at the time. The vent was 12"X12" or so, but Drifty managed to squeeze himself through the opening in his escape attempt. Until he got to his hips. He got stuck in the opening. Badly stuck. With the peanut gallery reduced to tears laughing and before he could manage to get through the hole forward or backward, a deputy or whatever walked by and saw Drifty's lower half hanging out of the wall and the rest of the gang all a-giggle like a bunch of school boys at recess. That screw and a couple of his buddies tried using brute force, then water, then vaseline and eventually a pound of BUTTER spread on him to lube him up enough so as to rip him out of that hole. 'What goes in, must come out!' was what Drifty said the bossman kept yelling, as they yanked on his legs.
The man could remove and break down a HD motor in a few hours and put it back together blindfolded with some simple tools. Every major snowstorm, mostly in the middle of the night, he'd be at my place plowing us out. I never asked him to. Make no mistake, we took good care of Mark, but he did us right back, every time.
May you rest in peace, old friend. I'll maybe see you on the other side some day.
