Toast to a beloved neighbor

Our little Medway Road family lost one of our long-time and beloved neighbors this week with the death of our sweet friend, John Ledlie. When we bought our house next to John and Peggy 27 years ago, we never imagined we would also hit the jackpot for neighbors.

For years, John and I exchanged hellos from our adjoining driveways in the mornings when he drove grandkids to school each day. When I would do my late night dog walk around the block, I’d often see John in his kitchen window. He’d knock and wave as Flossie and I left the driveway, and he was usually there waiting to ensure my safe return a few minutes later. He never told me directly he was keeping an eye out for me, but it always gave me great comfort knowing he was there.

John would often show up at our door with fresh produce he had bought, fish he had caught on his many outings along the coast or random frozen pizzas he had “overbought” at the Kroger. Our delightedly inter-generational neighborhood loves a good party, and John and Peggy were always there with their Yellow Tail wine (a nod to John’s native Australia, I always assumed:) and John’s scotch. We usually shared some type of smoked fish John had caught along with his famous wasabi dipping sauce.

John never met a stranger and was beloved by humans and canines alike. He always had a hose run to a water bowl at the foot of his sidewalk so thirsty pups walking by could grab a sip. We would know it was happy hour because John would amble down to the bottom of his driveway with the ice clinking in his drink ready for conversation with any of the adults and kids who happened by. His booming Australian lilt was easily recognizable from anywhere on the block.

In recent years, John’s afternoon happy hour took place more often from his perch on a chair in the yard and most recently from his newly constructed front porch – something he’d dreamed of building for many years. Just a few weeks ago, neighbors held an impromptu parade welcoming John home from a hospital stay. He waved and watched from the porch.

Always, the optimist, when John told me about his original cancer diagnosis, I teared up and hugged him. He said, “Don’t worry love. We’ll be fine.” I always got great inspiration from his perpetually positive outlook and his generosity of spirit.

To his beloved family he was Papa - father, husband and grandfather. To all of us on Medway, he was our friend and beloved neighbor. Our little street just won’t be the same without the “mayor of Medway.”

Rest well. We will miss you!