I didn’t know Ron as project manager and engineer at Sikorsky in the populous of CT. I knew him back when he lived in the sparsely populated Tobyhanna in the Pocono Mountains of PA. I met Ron at Penn State and fell for his tails of fishing and hunting in the Tobyhanna area. Since I was from outside Philly I felt like Ron was living in a vacation paradise. Ron was the guy who knew where every brookie hung out in the creek behind his house. He probably always had a white rabbit’s foot in his pocket because he always knew where to take my brother and I into the Goldsboro Lk. swamp to hunt snowshoe rabbits. After shooting our limits of “jacks” he would tell us which road to take back to the turnpike so we could look for grouse roosting in the roadside trees. Popping a few grouse silhouetted against a darkening gray sky was “icing on the cake” after a good day hunting together with Ron and his dad. Ron showed the two city guys some great times and shared his favorite spots with us and taught us the way the Tobyhanna mountain men do it. We hunt “jacks” a little different here in Oregon but they taste the same as the PA version. My love for hunting those crazy little white bunnies started with Ron and the Tobyhanna swamps. Our memories of Ron and his family will not be forgotten.