Tommy Coveleski rode the wind off the water beyond the blue horizon line at 6:14 p.m., Monday, Feb. 1, on the far side of last rites.
The artist among the Alpha Dogs, T.C. saw our place in the oil painting of the coastal community. He was a soul without attitude, emotionally steady beyond comprehension. People loved Tommy because he loved them first; he was the ultimate enabler and enhancer of all things that made "you” unique.
Tommy brought people out, made you talk a lot while he talked less. Finding him on the Boardwalk if you were just walking was a blessing - you just had to stop and talk because Tommy was the guy who listened and smiled and had a deep sense of personal history as it related to his friends, Cape Henlopen, the Rehoboth Beach Patrol, Little League baseball and the San Francisco Giants.
He left this game of life like a hard slide into home plate. The dust came up and when it cleared he was gone from us. The gentle soul took a medical beatdown the last two years after a diagnosis of stomach cancer.
He knew the challenge and his chances and bravely went forward, surviving the removal of his stomach, smiling at passing the pancake test so he could leave Sloan Kettering Hospital.
Tommy came back to us and, ironically, the man who nourished us all couldn’t get nourishment. But he rode his bike to Sunday mass, struggled through a few 5Ks with his lifeguard friends and enjoyed a party of friends in his side yard. Tommy was astute; he knew why they were there, it was a send-off. A fragile figure, he pulled the cord on the cannon of Pete and Woody that almost blew him off the top step of his house. It looked like a bad idea until you saw Tommy laughing; he was channeling Pete and Woody, the two most eccentric lifeguards in the history of coastal Sussex County.
Uncle Tommy was the prophet of the Coveleski clan. Just a supportive and wise person somewhere along the fence watching his nieces and nephews play sports and move along through the stages of their lives. Everyone should have an Uncle Tommy, but no one should lose one.
The big dogs are barking and the hounds are howling; we are missing the man who made us all feel better about us and each other.