‘WAAAASSSSEEEECCCAAA!’

It appears everyone has a Blair Nelson story. He had a way of making each person in his life feel special. That was reinforced Monday as I heard story after story before, during and after Blair’s funeral. 

A story from Tenille about a Cubs game she attended with Blair was shared. It reminded me of a similar story he had from attending Wringley field with one of his kids or grandkids.

All the fans were gathered around during batting practice trying to get the player's attention for autographs. Blair pats his daughter on the shoulder and says watch this.

I can still hear Blair’s voice as he tells the next part.

In his high pitched storytelling voice, Blair imitated what he did/yelled next. 

“Waaaaaassssseeeeeca!”

What came next made all the fans silent.

“Neeeelllllllssssson!”

Geno Glynn, Waseca native, was a base coach jogging off the field and immediately recognized Blair. 

I loved that story. 

I can’t recall how many times during the past year that Blain or Blair were telling a Blair story and Jon Butler would pop out of his office, either to hear the punchline or just listen. 

Jon married Lyric Nelson, Blain’s daughter.

As I chatted with Jon today, he told me what matters is not how long we know someone, but about the connection we make with them.

I didn’t rush my friendship with Blair. 

As a journalist out to write a story, I have become practiced at delving quickly into someone’s thoughts so I can quickly understand both a “big picture” and some intimate details for the sake of sharing a great story: I don’t like to do friendships quickly. I take it slow and enjoy each and every moment. Nothing was rushed with Blair and I never felt any pressure to move the conversation. The stories came and went as I learned more and more over the recent 14 or so months. 

Although I am in the process of buying and fixing up a new office space, I found myself dragging my feet: I enjoyed the free interchange with Blair and Blaine that my current location afforded. Whether I was there to exult or complain, he listened as much as he talked. Blair listened to several emotional rants from me over the last year. I never once felt anything other than compassion in those moments. Just love and compassion.

After learning about Blair’s death last week, I wrote about what I called “the Nelson effect.” That empathy and understanding are what I was talking about. Blair’s son-in-law Chas described Blair’s personal style as “open the door and toss it in.” Some might say “winging it.”

As I listened to several members of the Nelson family share their “Blair moments” during the funeral, I found myself speculating how they probably never imagined themselves telling those stories to a crowd gathered for an occasion like that one. Then I thought back to one of my “Blair moments,” when he and I played catch in the office for “45 MINUTES” (please read that in Deanne’s voice). 

I guess what I’m trying to say is we can all be a little more like Blair in those moments. 

Slow down, don’t take life so seriously, and don’t ever forget to enjoy your Coca-Cola. 

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation, and go to the grave with the song still in them.”

- Henry David Thoreau