Indeed did I ask everybody who really knew Tony to write down their testimony of him. Here Daisy expresses the difficulty to catch Tony in one short story: With Tony there was no in between; it was love or total indifference. We were lucky it clicked immediately. We were received with grand hospitality in the "cornerhouse" in Hoboken: he would explain at length why on a canvas the sun was painted just there and not in another spot. He had an angel's patience in working with Sara on a big piece of paper and her drawing apples upside down which tot Tony was quite ok. I remember making music with the weirdest instruments...First visit to Chloride:
Our bed was made (thanks Annmarie), we got the tour of the town and were introduced to the other inhabitants. In the evening in the rocking chairs we enjoyed the endless starry sky; sometimes softly talking, sometimes just watching quiet as a mouse. With truck to the Hualapai reservation, driving to Oatman, buying a cowboy hat for Sara so that he could be a real cowgirl. A person hasn't died when he is remembered and Tony's name is often heard in our home. Last year we were painting a wall in our living room and the paint kept not taking to wall. So we bought another color and everything was fine. My husband said to each other: Tony mustn't have liked the color... Or when the electricity acts up, we know we have to think again... I I'll forever be gratefull for the fact that he gave me a wonderful friend, his wife...Daisy
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