In the parlance of the coal region, my family lived "a few doors down the block" from George Kerestes and his family for over a half century.
When we received word of George's death, the first thought that occurred to me was that in more than 50 years I cannot recall ever seeing him lose his patience or his temper. In my mind's eye and ear, I can picture him with a smile on his face and ready to launch a good-natured laugh.
My brothers, sister and I grew up with George and Dolores Kerestes' sons Michael and Mark. Our mothers were friends and so were our dads. As a matter of fact, George and Dad were part of a small group of guys who socialized together occasionally for several years.
One night at a social club, Dad ran into a former high school student of his, who was apparently unhappy about the grade he had received in Dad's class and wanted to fight him. George, who worked at Danville State Hospital for many years, stepped in and told Dad he would handle it. Within seconds, genial George had the guy taken down and restrained on the floor until he rethought his plans.
George was also there for my Dad when Dad's Alzheimer's reached the point where he could no longer stay safely at home. While Mother, my siblings and I were making arrangements at the Lebanon VA, George kept an eye on Dad. He also got quite a workout because Dad loved to walk and George must have covered several miles with him.
It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized that George was of a different faith than we were. He attended St. Matthew's Slovak Lutheran Church across the street from our Catholic church. His different denomination was irrelevant because of the type of person he was.
George Kerestes was a great neighbor and an even better person. My family and I hope that someday we will again live a "few doors down the block" from George to see that familiar smile and hear that familiar laugh.
+++
Good neighbors are God's neighbors.