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The tall, rangy manager of Points of View Farm has been dead five years, the long shadow and deep imprint of his life more vivid than ever. Some thought Ranee was larger than life: he worked harder than most, with more unbridled delight than most. The long track record of achievements was punctuated with playful interruptions that could transform a heavy work day into a circus. For at 36 he had learned—and lived— a truth practiced by few: that each day might be the last. He embraced the present, and his own presence could not be ignored.
Nor his absence: those left behind feel the pace and momentum he set. They know better how to do a job, having fun, or how to drop everything to watch a tiny chipmunk or saddle up horses to race up the mountain and catch a splendid sunset. On November 9, five years after the unforgiving act that killed him in his prime, Ranee flourishes in the memories of people who shared his short life and others who have heard about him. They ask to visit his grave on the Blue Ridge mountaintop he cleared for pasture. Strange, they recall, that he was buried there the very day that the Viet Nam Memorial was unveiled in Washington, honoring Ranee's dead comrades from that war...
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