I watched his smile drop once. One Saturday morning I told him I'd been pulled over the previous night on my drive home. He flashed conspiratorial, asking if I'd been nailed for a DUI. Wasn't licensed in Nebraska, afaik, but I'm sure he'd have helped me find a good piranha of the proper kind had one been needed. He gave us a term for the longest lead likely ever to be needed for a Sporting Clays target in the LDL, and was properly sheepish/dismissive when Steve bitched us out for socializing when we should have been hunting and wild-flushed chickens that hadn't read the rules about residing at the "military crest".
He was certainly one of the better ones.
