I don’t have a rule for naming characters. Many times there is no rhythm or reason to a name; other times there is a name on my mind and it finds itself attached to a character for just that reason. Sometimes I’ve found that I’ve named too many characters using the same letter and change them. And sometimes, but rarely, they are named after people I want to pay tribute to. Such is the case of Grover. Grover Barnes was my neighbor in Santa Barbara years ago. Elderly when I met him, he made an immediate impression on me. I found though casual mentions of his name that he did the same for most of the people he met. When I mentioned him to a friend visiting my new house, that friend dashed out the door, ran across the street to knock on the door and embrace the man that had made such a tremendous difference in a young boy’s difficult life.

Grover Barnes died at 103. His memorial service had to be moved to another, larger church to accommodate the crowd. I openly sobbed and even harder when his friends and family consoled me by saying “he lived a long life and wonderful life” - I felt it was not enough. I wanted more time with my neighbor and in looking at the people touched by his life, so did they.