A Class Act

Our friend Greg Warren sent this...

Josh and I were driving to our project site near Carey on a fall morning in 2006. We stopped at the store in Fairfield, and happened to see Pam, who was on the way to her job in Hailey with The Nature Conservancy. The Hemingway House in Ketchum had been donated to TNC, and Pam was staying there in the downstairs apartment. She invited us to stop by that evening for a drink and appetizers and a tour of the historic dwelling. After work Josh and I stopped by the store for provisions and headed over. Pam showed us around the house, which was fascinating in its design and history. Pam showed us the sporting goods closets that still contained some of Hemingway’s outdoor gear. We stood in the very spot in the entryway where Hemingway tragically ended his own life. After the tour, we repaired to the outdoor patio to have a drink and some appetizers. Josh and I had brought relatively simple fare that likely included beer, chips and salsa. As always, Pam had assembled a beautiful array of nice meats, cheeses and wine. We all sat on the patio talking, looking out over the Big Wood River, and listening to the sounds of the rushing water and the breeze blowing through the yellowing cottonwood leaves. As the evening went on and it began to get dark, great storm clouds assembled to the west, the wind began to gust, and the sky began to thunder and lightning. Huge raindrops plastered the patio and grounds. Sitting there on the patio of Hemingway’s House, which to me certainly seemed to contain spirits, the storm only added to the magical and haunting quality of the evening. It was a fine way to spend an evening with a beautiful and classy woman, and I often think of it with fond memories.

Epilogue: A couple of years later, when Pam worked for Bogus Basin, she was charged with bringing appetizers to a company function. Once again, in her elegance and class, she prepared an astounding array of delicious items. Apparently, the more “working-class” employees of Bogus were relatively non-plussed and reticent to eat the nice food that Pam had prepared. These folks inquired on more than one occasion “Ummm….where’s the chips and dip and beanie weenies in barbeque sauce?”. 

Ah Pam. We love you.