Twelve years ago one of our friends didn’t return from our Sunday run. He took a right turn where we took a left (something he was wont to do, nobody worried about it) and then sat under a flowering apple tree and suffered a heart attack. By the time we missed him and searched for him somebody else had already called an ambulance but it was too late.
We had a small cross hung up at the fence near where it happened. Every year we meet around that day and run or walk that trail again. He was well known all over the world and each year one of his friends turns up who hasn’t been with us for the anniversary before. We drink a glass of aquavit in his honour, it was his favourite liquor, and there is always somebody who remembers a new story about him.
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