Post by CampWhippet on Apr 26, 2006 19:00:40 GMT -5
Ashes to ashes
When Shawn Kane misplaced the pocket-sized urn, he lost a special link to his father.
By JOHN BARRY, Deputy Floridian Editor
Published April 25, 2006
Shawn Kane scattered some of his father's ashes at Derby Lane.
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Al Kane had a gift for winning people over. He loved work and betting on dog races.
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PINELLAS PARK
Just before Easter, Shawn Kane reached into his pants pocket and felt a twinge of alarm. The cell phone was there. The urn was not. He checked his other pocket. Nothing. He checked the car seat, then behind the seat. The twinge in his gut grew into an ache.
He had carried the little urn since February 2003, when his dad was cremated. He had stopped being consciously aware of it in his pocket. It was just always there. Until somehow it wasn't.
It was Shawn's talisman. He squeezed it for good luck. "I squeezed it when my two children were born." He squeezed it every time he placed a bet on a dog at Derby Lane.
His dad, Al Kane, considered the track his second home. He loved to work and he loved to kid around and he loved to gamble on the dogs. Shawn inherited all those traits.
Al's death had been a yearslong battle against strokes, congestive heart failure and finally lung cancer. He was only 66 when he passed away. He didn't want anything fancy. A $506 discounted cremation was all. Most of his ashes were scattered in the Gulf of Mexico off the end of the Redington Long Pier.
Shawn and his half brother Gary each kept a few ashes. Gary has his at home. Shawn scattered some of his at Derby Lane, on the grass by the fence where the greyhounds streaked by, panting in a lather. The rest he placed in a $25 pocket urn he bought at Taylor Funeral Home in Pinellas Park.
It was a little bigger than a shot glass, silver and blue, with etchings of white doves. It had heft, weighed about 12 ounces. It was bulky for a pants pocket, but Shawn is like his dad was, a big guy: 6 feet 4, 230 pounds.
He's not so big that losses of loved ones don't hit him hard. When his father died, Shawn got a portrait of him tattooed on his chest.
Three years later, what Shawn remembers most is his dad's gift for winning people over. Al loved to banter with waitresses. "We'd call him a male version of Barbara Walters. He wanted to know if they were married, how many children they had. He'd get everything but a Social Security number."
Al was a salesman. About 30 years ago, he closed a shoe store in Philadelphia and moved his inventory to a flea market in Pinellas Park. He taught Shawn how to sell. "Make sure the customer is happy," he lectured. Shawn is now salesman, too, a partner in a timeshare advertising business.
Shawn harbors some regrets. He's just 25. He was busy getting his life started during the worst of his father's illness. "I didn't get to see him as much as I should have," he says. Al also missed the birth of granddaughter Kaley, Shawn's child, by just two months.
The lost ashes are one more regret. Shawn kicks himself for not inscribing his name on the urn.
"I ransacked the office looking for it. My car, my house, my daughter's toy box. I've looked all over the yard. I've even looked in places I know I wasn't at. I keep rolling it around in my mind: where I was, what I was doing."
He has narrowed the search to Pinellas Park. He knows he lost it somewhere there.
About two weeks ago, he put an ad in the St. Petersburg Times classifieds, offering a $300 reward. If you've found it, you can reach him at 727 560-0425. He knows what his dad would have said.
"He'd have laughed," Shawn says. "He'd have said, 'What's all the commotion?' "
John Barry can be reached at (727) 892-2258 or jbarry@sptimes.com.
www.sptimes.com/2006/04/25/Floridian/Ashes_to_ashes.shtml
When Shawn Kane misplaced the pocket-sized urn, he lost a special link to his father.
By JOHN BARRY, Deputy Floridian Editor
Published April 25, 2006
Shawn Kane scattered some of his father's ashes at Derby Lane.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Al Kane had a gift for winning people over. He loved work and betting on dog races.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PINELLAS PARK
Just before Easter, Shawn Kane reached into his pants pocket and felt a twinge of alarm. The cell phone was there. The urn was not. He checked his other pocket. Nothing. He checked the car seat, then behind the seat. The twinge in his gut grew into an ache.
He had carried the little urn since February 2003, when his dad was cremated. He had stopped being consciously aware of it in his pocket. It was just always there. Until somehow it wasn't.
It was Shawn's talisman. He squeezed it for good luck. "I squeezed it when my two children were born." He squeezed it every time he placed a bet on a dog at Derby Lane.
His dad, Al Kane, considered the track his second home. He loved to work and he loved to kid around and he loved to gamble on the dogs. Shawn inherited all those traits.
Al's death had been a yearslong battle against strokes, congestive heart failure and finally lung cancer. He was only 66 when he passed away. He didn't want anything fancy. A $506 discounted cremation was all. Most of his ashes were scattered in the Gulf of Mexico off the end of the Redington Long Pier.
Shawn and his half brother Gary each kept a few ashes. Gary has his at home. Shawn scattered some of his at Derby Lane, on the grass by the fence where the greyhounds streaked by, panting in a lather. The rest he placed in a $25 pocket urn he bought at Taylor Funeral Home in Pinellas Park.
It was a little bigger than a shot glass, silver and blue, with etchings of white doves. It had heft, weighed about 12 ounces. It was bulky for a pants pocket, but Shawn is like his dad was, a big guy: 6 feet 4, 230 pounds.
He's not so big that losses of loved ones don't hit him hard. When his father died, Shawn got a portrait of him tattooed on his chest.
Three years later, what Shawn remembers most is his dad's gift for winning people over. Al loved to banter with waitresses. "We'd call him a male version of Barbara Walters. He wanted to know if they were married, how many children they had. He'd get everything but a Social Security number."
Al was a salesman. About 30 years ago, he closed a shoe store in Philadelphia and moved his inventory to a flea market in Pinellas Park. He taught Shawn how to sell. "Make sure the customer is happy," he lectured. Shawn is now salesman, too, a partner in a timeshare advertising business.
Shawn harbors some regrets. He's just 25. He was busy getting his life started during the worst of his father's illness. "I didn't get to see him as much as I should have," he says. Al also missed the birth of granddaughter Kaley, Shawn's child, by just two months.
The lost ashes are one more regret. Shawn kicks himself for not inscribing his name on the urn.
"I ransacked the office looking for it. My car, my house, my daughter's toy box. I've looked all over the yard. I've even looked in places I know I wasn't at. I keep rolling it around in my mind: where I was, what I was doing."
He has narrowed the search to Pinellas Park. He knows he lost it somewhere there.
About two weeks ago, he put an ad in the St. Petersburg Times classifieds, offering a $300 reward. If you've found it, you can reach him at 727 560-0425. He knows what his dad would have said.
"He'd have laughed," Shawn says. "He'd have said, 'What's all the commotion?' "
John Barry can be reached at (727) 892-2258 or jbarry@sptimes.com.
www.sptimes.com/2006/04/25/Floridian/Ashes_to_ashes.shtml
