*62

I “met” Johnny Lowe around seven years ago on the forum posts at NYFS. We both were two of the early posters there and had graduated from New York Sports Day.

Eventually, we both settled in at Flushing University, which is owned and operated by Mike McCann. I became the minor league writer there at the same time I had begun my first site, Mack’s Mets Notes.

Johnny was always there to add his own expertise and brand of humor and became one of the administrators. We shared our love of the team, Grateful Dead music, playing guitar, and a general love of life.

We never talked on the phone. That’s how this internet world works. Strangers become best friends without any interference from actual vocal or bodily contact.

Two years ago, Johnny and I hooked up in Port St. Lucie during the Mets spring training. We had dinner at Duffy’s shared a pack of cigarettes for old time sake, and passed around a joint in the parking lot when we parted. We made plans to make this an annual trip, but my own health got in the way of out of town trips alone and we never saw each other again.

I hadn’t smoked a joint in over 20 years and the last person I should have done this with was an old Deadhead. I barely could make it from my car to my motel room and I ate every piece of candy I could buy from the machine down the hall.

Johnny called about six weeks ago. I thought it was going to be about writing on Mack’s Mets, something I kept bugging him to do over the years. Instead, he filled me in on his diagnosis and the fact that it was declared to be “last stage”.

It was a tough conversation. Johnny said to me, “Mack, I’m dying”, and I finally became speechless. His bucket list included making his last birthday, his son’s ninth, and his wife’s. He made two of them.

Johnny had never taken his son to a Mets game so I asked him if he was up for a road trip. He said hell yes and I contacted Jay Horowitz at the Mets for any help. Johnny’s wife and I talked and she told me that he was too weak for such a trip so I killed the idea by telling Johnny I just couldn’t pull it off. I learned that day that the last person you should ever ask how sick they are is the patient.

Johnny emailed me around ten days ago and said he would be posting his first post on Mack’s Mets later on in the week. It never happened which I took as a sign of his declining health.

Stacey contacted me yesterday and said things had taken a step in the wrong direction. She then called this morning.

Johnny will always be Mack’s Mets’ Thurman Munson (God, he’s going to be pissed that I made him a Yankee). His picture will remain as a MM writer and he is welcome to add anything he’d like once they figure out up there how to link up to Wifi.

College Fund: - I’ve asked a bunch of Mets friends and writers to help me set up a dedicated site to collect donations for his son Asher. I know there are a bunch of legal ramifications to that, and I’ll fill you all in when and if, that is accomplished.

Until then, please send any donations to my Paypal account:  macksmets@gmail.com.  I can only imagine the medical bills he has left behind.