What a great guy Tim Hartnett was. I have nothing but the fondest memories of this man. Always sweet and nice, to a fault. Tim and I go way back to our shared early childhood in Newton Highlands, MA.
When I was in elementary school or possibly even nursery school, one day I said to my mother, ‘I want a new friend’, or something along those lines. My mother knew Tim’s mother, Francesca (‘Cesca) and said to me, ‘I know someone with a son your age — let’s go visit them’. In those days, that’s just what you did – you simply picked up and went to someone’s house and visited. So my mother and I made the short 5 or 10 minute walk from Lincoln and Woodward Streets to Chester and Forest Streets, knocked on the front door, and that’s how I met Tim.
After that, we were friends for a long time. We grew up in a time and place where trouble was all over the place. Tim never had any of that. He was just a solidly good young man who bothered no one, and no one bothered him. He was a superb athlete, as good as any of us. He was always among the first picked in any sport; baseball, soccer, touch football, dodgeball, etc. He’d have been a high level athlete were his options not constrained by his hypohidrotic ectodermal dysplasia (HED). I know this because I was there, a witness to his athletic talents.
He was as well a great guitar player. I was there at the beginning of that too. Unlike myself, I believe he was self taught. He was good, had a natural sense of rhythm. It was I who mostly took cues from him. He was always showing me new songs, different ways to hit a chord, and so on. He was a solid player and didn’t just hit the chords – he played them with passion. Tim had a great sense of humor too, really knew how to laugh. Big smile, big personality, big and kind soul. He was enormously easy to like.
Eventually his family, then mine, moved out of the Highlands, Tim’s family to NY, and we to CA, so we simply lost track of one another. The Hartnett family was close to us at that early time, so our family did one time pickup and drive out to Plattsburgh to visit. I remember that trip today, still. That was the last time I saw Tim, and the family. 100 years have passed since then, but like so many in my past, Tim passed in and out of my mind on occasion over the years. I never forgot him. Why does this sort of thing always happen, with all of us? I wish it didn’t. It’s not good that we all lose touch and seemingly reconnect on the bad news. But as Bruce Hornsby immortalized, “That’s just the way it is.” Tim would like and understand that line.
So as usual, a flash of years went by and I stumbled on this bad news. I was, and am, so sorry to have learned of Tim’s passing. I wish I could have seen and talked with him during the lost years, and definitely before the final act. Though it’s been so long since we’d seen one another, I can say with certainty that I know he took his calling like a man, because he was a man. He was a sensitive man, but a super strong man. I’ll miss him. God bless Tim, and rest in peace.
Craig Dinkel
Keeping Tim Hartnett 