Our Unforgettable Friend, Ron

Ron and his sister Nancy aboard Stagnaro's "Velocity" prepare for whale-watching on Monrterey Bay

We knew we would face a different Santa Cruz when we returned. For sure, it is not the same town as the one we departed in early March. The glaring difference is not, however, the place itself. It is the loss of one of our good friends.

Ron Bengston, 76, died in his Davenport home on Sunday morning while we were waking up. Ron was more than a friend. He was family. The phrase "bigger than life" fits. Anyone who ever met him, I'm sure, will remember the 6-foot, 5-inch reddish-blond haired man with the booming voice.

His sister Nancy had come from Colorado to be with him during his final days. About 15 years ago he was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, a blood plasma cancer. Physically strong as an ox, Ron had survived these past years by grit, a zest for life, and with the help of chemo, radiation, various treatments and medications.

On Sunday Ron's sister posted his passing on his FB page. The comments came fast: "A great man" was heard over and over, as well as "fair and honest."

Over the past 15 years, the quality of his life went up and down. The beauty of Ron shone like a bright star during the "up" periods. A bachelor most of his life, and ex Peace Corps volunteer, he flew to France to see an old flame. On his FB page he posted numerous photos of historical places. His knowledge and enthusiasm rivaled the famed travel writer Rick Steves.

He bought a camper and traveled the Southwest shooting photos and describing the flora. He possessed a passion for nature and unique love of flowers. His backyard greenhouse was full of orchids and colorful blooms.

During the past couple of years, Ron cared for our dog Frida at his place while we visited Kauai for months at a time. He took her camping, to the beach and she became part of the dogs of Davenport. We were assured that she would receive the best attention. Frida kept Ron company, and vise versa.

He had immersed himself in home projects, including rebuilding an Austin Healey mini roadster, using a book for reference. A contractor-builder by trade, Ron began a dining-room expansion on his small house in Davenport which looked toward the sea. It was a perfect seaman's cottage.

We met Ron about 20-years ago when we hired him to build an addition to our master bedroom. He single-handily built, wired and plumbed that addition. Following that he constructed a studio for us behind our garage. There was never a doubt about his high quality workmanship. Ron was very smart and talented. Perhaps should have been an architect.

We shared many dinners and outings with Ron over the years. He was a frequent presence in and around our home. Our daughter Bryna and her surfer girl friends were teenagers when Ron first appeared. They called him, "Rondawg." I think he got a kick out of his nickname.

During a trip to Kauai a few years ago, Ron flew over and joined us for a family birthday celebration at The Bistro in Kilauea. His presence was a coincidence. He wanted to explore the natural wonders of the island, just happened to be there at the same time.

When Bryna, to her surprise, arrived to find Ron, tall and loud, in the middle of the party, all she could say was: "Rondawg!?" I guess she didn't realize how much he had become a part of our family since she left home.

Last year Ron invited us to join him on a whale watching excursion on Monterey Bay. His sister Nancy from Colorado was there as well as her husband, Bob. Far out on the bay, we watched numerous dolphins, an enormous Sun Fish and Humpback whales. I'll never forget that wonderful sea-going experience. We were all smiles, in the element.

Before we left for Kauai in March, I spent the day with Ron, taxiing him to his doctors to discuss his situation with them. He was losing function of his right arm. He met the doctors with his usual outgoing, loud and informed personality. It was a joy to watch. I was supposed to keep track of any instructions, because Ron felt he might not be coherent enough to remember, given his medications.

It became clear to me that Ron knew as much about what was going on as anyone. He was going to receive more radiation treatments. There was a glimmer of hope. Despite the grim news about his arm -- his bones were succumbing to cancer -- his spirit remained high.

That's how we left him. He was disappointed that he couldn't care for Frida. He knew he wasn't up for  that.

Ron did not suffer fools and would send me choice jokes about the President.

While I posted stories from Kauai, Ron was one of my biggest fans. It gave me great pleasure to know he found enjoyment in my simple notes But his comments became shorter. He sent a private message to me that he had run out of options. It was heartbreaking.

I messaged him that we would pray for a miracle.

His final comment regarding one of my last posts was one word:

"Beautiful."

Ron Bengston was graduated from Santa Cruz High School, class of 62. He was Senior Class President. He played football and basketball for the SCHS Cardinals. He was a lifelong 49er fan. He spent two shifts in the Peace Corps in Latin America. He loved life, played it fair and square.