On Friday, January 17th, my father Llary Warnick Peterson, a longtime resident of Joseph passed away at the Wallowa Memorial Hospital. He had been found Tuesday of the same week, by a neighbor, collapsed on the floor of his home following a massive heart attack.

I did not find out about this until Thursday afternoon.

I was able to speak with him on the phone Thursday evening. It was a hard conversation and our final. I promised him I was on my way and asked him to please wait for me. He promised he would, but was unable to and passed away before my arrival.

I had not seen my father for more than 20 years.

Our not visiting was not because there was a bad relationship; we had a fairly decent, if sometimes strained relationship. The cost of such a trip prohibited me and my family from visiting (though honestly, I could have saved the money over a couple of years… but did not). And for Dads part, the cost also prohibited him from visiting us. He also informed me more than once that he could not visit us at our home in the Denver area, because there is too much concrete where you live.

What is sad to me is, this year, we could afford the trip and had planned to visit him come summertime.

Saturday January 18th, I saw my dad for the first time in 20 some years.

In the funeral home.

My heart was broken.

My 20-some-year fear realized, that I would never see Dad again until he had died.

By the time this letter to the editor is printed, I will have returned to Colorado after a week in Joseph attempting to get Dads affairs in order.

As a child, I spent many summers in Joseph visiting my grandparents, Lloyd Warnick Peterson and Vera Peterson, as well as my great uncle and aunt, John and Mary Johnson and their family.

I loved Joseph the second I arrived there for first time as a young boy.

After that first visit, when I returned home to Montana and school started, one of our first assignments of the year was to write a book report.

My report was on Joseph, Oregon.

Joseph and the surrounding area, has, since that first visit, always been in my mind and heart. I read the Wallowa County Chieftain online, religiously. I very often share the news stories and images of Joseph on Facebook and G+.

In short…I love your town.

What I didnt know before my dads passing is, I love those of you who live in Joseph as well.

One of my first greetings here as I drove my fathers truck around Joseph to run errands was a man who walked up to me and asked, what the hell are you doing in Llarys truck!? This somewhat rough greeting, caused me to cry a little. Not because I was frightened by this older gentleman, but because I knew immediately that someone cared about Dad; that someone was watching out for him.

I told him who I was and why I was in Dads truck.

He had not known Dad had passed away.

He said nothing, just reached out, shook my hand, and walked away.

If I had not been worried that I would have become a blubbering, crying idiot, I would have asked his name.

In my six days in Joseph, I met many people who knew my dad.

Most of you all made me cry.

Cry partly because I am sad about my father having passed, and in part because so many of you seemed to have been so good to him and to have genuinely cared for him.

Dad and I spoke on the phone fairly often. While he did mention friends from time to time, he did not mention how close some of you were to him.

Thank you Joseph. Where I failed as a son, you picked up the slack.

I will return in March for a short, small service for him. I hope to bring a few of my six children with me.

While it is now impossible for me to introduce them to their grandpa, I can at least introduce them to Joseph, and Dad would have like that very much as he loved Joseph, Oregon.

Keith Warnick Peterson writes from his home in Thornton, Colo.