from Scott Paton

Ken Bruce: In Memoriam

I probably knew Ken less intimately than any other contributor or visitor to this site.  As a regular but too infrequent visitor to San Francisco, Ken was one of the many friendly acquaintances I co-opted and conscripted from my good friend Will.

Over the course of the last dozen years or so, many laughs and drinks were shared when we inevitably collided at the Connecticut Yankee.  It was always a huge disappointment for me if a Happy Hour didn’t result in a “chance” meeting, finding Ken situated at center court, yakking with Steve or Doc, or with one or more of the cast of regulars.  I’d probably known Ken for two years before I was aware of his prominence in the municipal workings of SF.  His good humor and bonhomie was bookended by his humility and his embrace of any worthy soul, regardless of station.

At the top of his game, Ken had that twinkle in his eye that prefaced –or, in some cases, precluded the need for—an obvious joke or a clever rejoinder.  He was a “guy’s guy,” that the gals found charming as well.

The last time I saw Ken was at a post-game, tailgate clean-up on the Giants’ Opening Day last month.  Quite frankly, he didn’t look good.  I hadn’t seen him in more than a year.  He was heavier, gray in pallor and, frankly, that light of his was not shining.  When asked about his health he was dismissive, and there was an air of resignation about him.  In conversation with him, and later that day with our mutual friend Will, it was clear that numerous friends had expressed their concern about his health.

I had vowed to myself to send him a letter –a scare tactic, really—admonishing him to get to the doctor as part of his imminent retirement plan.  We weren’t personally close enough for him to anticipate such a missive from me, and I thought maybe that, as such, it might have some impact.  An act of vanity or an effort in vain—I’ll never know, because I didn’t send it.  And that will haunt me for a long time.

Despite the limits of our proximity and times shared, I had a tremendous affection for Ken, and I know that I’m part of a very extended and saddened crowd.  I feel not only a tremendous personal loss, but also grieve for those of you who loved him and had the good fortune to enjoy his company more regularly.

Honor Ken’s memory by taking better care of yourself, getting a regular health check-up and spending more time in the company of those who add a little bit of joy to your life