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I’ve always loved this fishing shack in Bayview, but just noticed the sign on it recently.  If you are looking for an authentic wooden lobster buoy, call Greg Merchant of Ipswich Bay Wooden Buoy.

E.J. Lefavour

By Andy “Cowboy” McCloy

Some people are illuminated from within. You know it the moment you meet them — there is a spark, an essence, a twinkle in the eye, that sets them apart from the rest.

Rick Kaloust glowed with this inner light. He celebrated life. Never one to stay down for long, Rick was always quick with a laugh or up for having some fun. You would never place the word “boring” in the same sentence with Rick Kaloust.

If you were one of the many fortunate to have known him and called him your friend, you know of his big heart, his loyalty, and his fun-loving spirit. In the days since he died on Jan. 9, so many people have come forth to express how much Rick meant to them and the many ways that he touched them. He made all of us feel special. We all know how fortunate we are to have called him “friend.”

My memories of Rick go back to childhood. He was this dark haired, chocolate-eyed kid who played on the Little League team that my father coached in Manchester-by-the-Sea. Even then, he had this energy about him, something special and soulful that you wanted to be around and try to absorb. Later, when he moved to Gloucester, we became good friends during high school. We were all crazy — and carefree — back then. To the consternation and endless worry of our parents, we had a blast. And the memories were forged, indelible and life-long.

Everyone had a nickname that remains with us to this day. Rick was “Kahlua” or “Guido the Killer Pimp.” I was “The Cowboy.” Paul Murphy was “Puddles” or “Francis.” Ricky Schrafft was “Dicka.” Kevin Warde was “The Wonder.” Don Riley was “Don Juan.” What I remember most was the laughter, much of it completely silly and inane, but laughter that would bowl you over and make your insides churn. It was humor that was understood by us, that only good friends can share, like a code or a foreign language to which only we had access and meaning. The banter was constant:

“We are all very proud of you.”

“What up? Cut up! Shut the f—up!”

“My Corp, your Corp, Marine Corp.”

“Give your president respect.”

“It’s Guido, the Killer Pimp.”

“Paco Robano on ice.”

“Eddie’s on the warpath.”

“Wearing the spurs.”

“Gee Sammo?”

“The Mighty Atlantic.”

“Cowboy jumped the marsh!”

“Is the Wonder still doing the Wonder?”

“Dicka’s Number One.”

“Murphy, what is your fascination with Gay Paris?”

“She’s livin’ out on the island. Tell her to come home.”

And on and on and on.

Truth be told, we all benefited from his loving and generous parents, who, like Rick, were always welcoming people into their home. There was love there and laughter. Sometimes the love was tough, but it was good and pure, and unwavering. Ed and Joyce Kaloust are beautiful human beings. If you love Rick, you know why he is such a good soul; he came from good stock. And there are his brothers and sisters, Donna, Kim, John, and Derek. They each have that same spark within them. If you know them, you understand what I am talking about. They are authentic people, with good hearts and a loyalty that runs deep.

In recent years, Rick and I stayed in touch every week, and I visited him a handful of times in Florida. He lived in Tampa and I was in Rockport, but thanks to cell phones, we would check in all of the time. He was there for me, and he gave it away. We would end our conversation with “I love you,” a phrase that is not something I give away freely. But we both knew what that meant — that life was precious and friendships like ours were rare, and life-long friendships ever more so.

I could mention all of the good times in detail, but Joey C., another good soul who shines that inner light, captured it so eloquently in his tribute.

One memory that does come to mind somehow seems appropriate today. It was October in Gloucester in the early 1980s. The Kaloust’s power boat was still on the mooring off Eastern Point. Of course, we all decided, about seven or eight of us, after dark, to head down by boat to Salem’s Pickering Wharf for some drinks. We left Gloucester Harbor, and the seas were raging. The boat was a 24-footer with a great deal of horsepower, but we were being tossed about right outside the breakwater near Norman’s Woe. I thought we were going to capsize and drown. At the helm, Rick, of course, was laughing and pushing onward, feet solidly apart and hands steady on the wheel. Eventually, off Magnolia, the seas flattened and we made our way down the North Shore coast to Salem Harbor.

Who knows how long we stayed, and how many drinks and laughs we had, but I do remember this: Upon our return, the moon was glowing white on the water and the sea was as still as glass. I stood beside Rick at the wheel. We felt the icy October air in our faces and in our hair and we smiled silently at each other as we flew across the calm water, free and beautiful and full of light, heading home.

Rick’s friends will be gathering this Saturday morning at 9:30AM to celebrate his amazing life. We will meet at the Eastern Point Lighthouse for some words of remembrance and music. All are welcome and encouraged to come so together we can grieve the loss of our wonderful friend. We have all loss a special person. Paul F. Murphy

There will be a reception immediately following at the Gloucester House Restaurant.

Little cuz Allison Ciaramitaro just got offered a job down in Texas as the morning meteorologist at a station KMID. Don’t ask me what it stands for.

Being a meteorologist was a dream of Ally from before she went to college.

I distinctly remember the standard speech I give to all kids before they go off to college and exactly where I had this conversation with Allison, in Sista Felicia’s kitchen.

It goes like this-

“listen, no matter what anyone tells you, college is a cakewalk as long as you do two things-

Devote at least an hour and a half to doing your homework, and don’t skip any of your classes. A typical college you have about 3 or 4 hours of classes and then if you add an hour and a half of homework that’s a measly 5.5 hours out of 24. Believe me if you just don’t blow off your classes and do the homework you’re pretty much easily gonna get a 3.0 or higher and then you still have 18.5 hours of the day to do whatever you want. Get hammered if you want, JUST DON’T SKIP YOUR CLASSES & DO YOUR HOMEWORK! Devoting 5.5 hours of your day to actual work will be the easiest you’ll ever have it for the rest of your working life so suck it up and then party like a rock star the rest of the time.”

Standard speech I must have given a hundred times now.

Anyway Congrats Cuz! Proud of you!!!!

Hi Joey,

The recent cold snap (relatively speaking) in New England reminded me of the winter of ’76-’77. I was living in Newton at the time; one Sunday I drove up to the north shore and took some pictures. I can’t exactly place the landscape — somewhere on the Annisquam River, I think — but Gloucester Harbor was frozen hard enough to be able to walk out to the fishing boats. Today, by contrast, Seattle is colder than Boston….

Regards, Bill Langer

Blue Shutters Beach Blog

“You don’t know, you don’t even know the half.” Often said of great people in ones life you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. It’s a brotherhood these selections in friends that you make in life that forge a bond greater than steel. This is beyond ones professional accomplishments in life for I didn’t know him in that capacity, “The how are you” drawn out in a question he would often ask while being right in you’re grill.

I can only speak to how we shared amazing times. Well this guy Rick most certainly made the most of it. Ricky ticky tampa’s shenanigans even caught me of all people off guard on many occasions. “Rick was just completely unpredictable in nature being that he was the path.”

To delve into all these stories one accumulates in life would be foolhardy at best. I couldn’t imagine growing up with him like Joey has. I had only met him through his brothers later in life in my 20’s. He most certainly had a great spark for interesting moments that only got bigger as I got to know him better. Last time I was staying down in Florida I pressed to see him. He was off the radar for a minute but meet us at a dinner down on the beach. He showed me this awesome place for cheeseburgers and we shared a great conversation. It seems trivial but I love food especially Cheese burgers and in life the small things you learn about people make all the difference.

You talk about fiesta his name comes up arriving on mysterious floats, you talk about Vegas the cigar smoke sneaks around the corner, you talk about Nantucket wearing reds, Boston nights at Daisy B’s, Florida trips filled with baseball, and I could spill on…We don’t but being in the circle of someone’s life that has touched many others is a gift. Friendship is steady work never waist or misplace a drop, it should be right behind family in slot two.

MVP Rick will be missed and the soil of my life will forever be enriched by knowing his. We as friends are left to keep his memories alive. We are spread far apart right now, a collection of people but look to the memories for comfort. I would love to launch into the story of him upstaging a high brow fashion show in Nantucket. The laughter of the crowd, the cheer of his friends, he just lit up the room that night like so many others. Codename Lion King the fuse burns wildly a final mission, get us a table a big one.

Joey, Joey, Joey I see a friggen Rainbow… I’m picking up what you are laying down….Be well in these difficult times abroad everyone and lets respect his wish to pay things forward…. “Outstanding” I’m thinking about all you guys right now stay blessed…I’m smiling wildly as always, life we got away with it living less ordinary.

“Time is the fire in which we burn.”
Delmore Schwartz 1913-1966

Born to Jewish parents in Brooklyn, NY, Schwartz attended Columbia and the University of Wisconsin before receiving a degree from New York University. He studied philosophy as a graduate student under the great Alfred North Whitehead at Harvard while he roomed with the poet Robert Lowell. His first book, In Dreams Responsibilities Begin, based on his parents failed marriage, gained him widespread notice. He went on to teach writing at a number of schools including Syracuse and Kenyon. Among his many students and protégés was Saul Bellow whose Humboldt’s Gift is based on their relationship. Lou Reed of the Velvet Underground also studied with Schwartz, wrote at least two songs in his memory and named him the “first great man I ever met.” Schwartz died at 52, alone and isolated from the world, from complications of alcoholism and mental illness.

Greg Bover

 

Gregory R. Bover
VP Operations, Project Manager
C. B. Fisk, Inc
978 283 1909
www.cbfisk.com

Rick’s friends will be gathering this Saturday morning at 9:30AM to celebrate his amazing life. We will meet at the Eastern Point Lighthouse for some words of remembrance and music. All are welcome and encouraged to come so together we can grieve the loss of our wonderful friend. We have all loss a special person. Paul F. Murphy

There will be a reception immediately following at the Gloucester House Restaurant.

Hi Joey,
Has I took this picture this morning, freezing my hands off, I thought of you,and your friends, running into the ocean. I but your glad today is not January first.
John Wheeler

You know I’m sad and all of our friends that got to experience your friendship are sad that you’re gone but you know what?

I’m pretty sure that what we all shared was special. That brotherhood of intense friendship and living life to the fullest and squeezing every last ounce of what life had to offer. Ricky was everyone’s friend, he was a natural born leader and where he led we were all sure to have the best of times.

I could never have dreamed of a tighter crew, always there for each other, always pursuing the fruit of life, laughter and fun.

They can’t take those things from us. They could take your body but you imparted that spirit in all of us. The spirit and will to pursue the fun in life. I’m sure we’ll all agree that that spirit will live on in us as a testament to what we all had in our youth and that we learned from the leader of the pack, the elder statesman- Ricky.

What I’d give for one more game of volleyball with the steak tips on the grill.  One more rip around the Cape on the Mako, one more EPIC 3rd of July party with The Catalina’s wailing away- “My Heart Don’t Feel Too Safe I Need Protection!”,  “Fire In The Hole!”, one More Fiesta “Slice! you ruined my “shirt!, one more run into Boston at 11:30PM because we could catch last call, one more reggae concert at Hammond Castle, one more overnighter on the back side of Cranes, one more dinner at The Columbia House, one more spring training game “Nomar’s Bettah!”, one more Sunday watching football with the fire stoked in the room overlooking the breakwater, one more guys trip.

Oh what I’d give.  We lived it-all of us brothers, and even if those things never happen again they can never take those memories from us- when we were kings.

Love you man
And to all my other brothers and you know who you are, I Love You Too

The spirit will never die

“I think I see a rainbow people” (those of you who get that reference I’m sure you’re smiling through your tears)