I remember the last time I talked to Kevin and the irony of it all. 

I hadn't talked to Kevin for quite sometime, and to this day I don't know what prompted me to give him a call.  I was sitting at home one evening, about a week before his death, and the thought ran through my head to call him.  As luck would have it, Kevin answered the phone and we went through the usual greetings, how you doing, etc.  Before our conversation went much further, Kevin said he would have to go as there was some crisis going on with Forrest and he had to deal with it.  After I hung up, I figured I would call him another day and hopefully be able to talk a little longer with him. 

Only a few days before his death, I got an early evening phone call from Kevin.  I was somewhat surprised that he had called me back and he apologized profusely for having to cut me off short a few nights before.  I had to tell him several times that he had nothing to apologize for and that he had a lot more to worry about than talking to me, and that I totally understood.  We spent the next hour or so talking about all kind of things, primarily the hard times Forrest was going through and the agonizing decisions Kevin was being faced with.  Kevin began the conversation sounding exhausted and hopeless and continually questioned whether he was doing enough and/or doing the right things.  Kevin knew a few of the things I had been through in Vietnam and in my law enforcement career, and thought I could offer some insights to him.  I hope I was able to. 

As the conversation was winding down, I was struck by the tremendous burden that Kevin had been under and how well he seemed to handle things.  Had this been happening to me, I doubt that I would have been able to cope as well. 

The last words I spoke to Kevin will be forever etched in my mind: "Kevin, you're doing just fine." 

Told by Jay Printz via email sent to me on 7/7/99.