Goodbye Terry
January 5, 2008

It is Friday evening, January 4.  Words have not come to me this week, to describe the bitter and sweet emotional roller coaster that the Dahl family has been riding.  They fail me still.  I will soldier on here, in my clumsy way.  I cannot mingle my joy at the wedding of my firstborn with my despair at the passing of Terry Armour, and so today I will simply try to say a sad goodbye.

Last Friday Steve was collecting snow-delayed relatives to bring them to the rehearsal dinner when the boys noticed Terry’s picture on the television at Smith and Wollensky.  A few taps on their I-phones brought us the inconceivable news.  Steve knew already, but had hoped to impose a news blackout for me so that I could celebrate.  And so as we toasted the newlyweds to be, Steve locked himself in the manager’s office, to process this impossibility, and to write some sort of remembrance.  Terry had just recently dined at S & W, and I’m pretty sure he did not want Steve to miss his dinner.  I am also sure he would have been amazed and tickled at all the glasses that were raised to his beloved persona during the past week. Still, it is hard to find much comfort in the premature departure of such a joy-bringer.  The world is so much emptier without him.

Terry was a writer, and his friends write better than I could dream of stringing words.  I cannot say one single thing that has not been said better.  So I will just repeat what has been said before.  Terry was a gift to those who encountered him.  He slaved at his job, and then slaved again to make it look easy.  I have never heard him say an unkind word about a friend or a competitor- even Jay Mariotti.  He knew life was too short for baggage.  He just did not know how short.  He loved his mother and his family unfailingly.  He lit up when he spoke of family events, and he wanted to make his Mom proud of him.  I just met her under these desperate circumstances.  Her name is Elaine- my mom’s name.  She is a beautiful, throbbing energy cell- like Terry.  I believe she demanded achievement from her family, and it is a wonderful group of people.  She laughs readily, welcomes instantly, and probably could see through Terry’s youthful mischief with X-ray eyes.  She is a force to be reckoned with.  Terry leaves behind his gentle and beautiful wife, LaNell.  Terry loved her so fast, and was scared of messing up when he was courting her.   He wanted the aura of raconteur to apply to him. Not only could LaNell see through his bluster, she was fearless.  She saw his marshmallow soul.  She let him win her.  In her love, Terry found the peace that eluded him as he traipsed after the Bulls, or hit the late night scene to report on the latest spots.  He was centered.  They adopted Kramer, a canine whom I have not had the fortune of meeting, and they were putting down new roots.  I know Terry was going to be back on the radio somewhere.  His talent was undeniable, his energy boundless, and his happiness infectious.  He loved being busy.  We all loved being near him so we could catch a dose of Armour-love.  We are all poorer for the reduced dose we will receive. 

Terry loved his life-sized cutouts, and he dragged various cardboard “friends” into his radio studio every day, so he could be in the company of celebrities. My son decided to prank him once, and he “kidnapped” Katarina Witt, made a copy and pretended to behead her.  Terry was apoplectic- first about the alleged destruction, and later, that he had been pranked.  He threatened to show up at DePaul’s graduation, and promised to swoon and scream about his “son” making good.  Last spring, as Matt graduated, I looked and listened for him.  Now I will always be looking for him, missing him. I just might make myself a life sized Terry. 

Someday it will be easier to be grateful for having known him, than heartsick for losing him.  That day is not today.

I will be back soon with the sweet to balance this bitter- Pat’s wedding. Stay tuned.