Intro – September 2017

“It’s so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.” ― John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent

Kenneth was a fine photographer and some of his best photos date back to our many hard-working days at Lanntair Farm. The photo above was taken of the long driveway along the lake and through the 17-acre farm during the record snowfall (12”) and cold (24 below zero) of 21 January 1985. As I looked through all of our photos while preparing the slide show for Kenneth’s memorial, this enlargement struck me as a scene that saw into the future and spoke to what we would come to feel in the winter of 2017-2018.

When I look back to those farm days, they represent some of our happiest as well as most difficult, anxious times. We have scores of exceptional stories and good memories based upon our time at the farm and with family and friends. I will have a much harder time remembering those accurately now, because Kenneth had the better head for recalling details. We’ve regaled so many people with them that, perhaps, I won’t forget too much and others may be able to remind me.

There are days now when I wish I did not recall at all the day that Kenneth died.

The unexpected, unattended, and inexplicable loss of a loved one is painful beyond belief.

In the last several years here at Blue Note Garden, we have had a magnificent pair of nesting great horned owls in our woods. On the evening that Kenneth died, 3 September 2017, I came outside to check on whether his van had arrived yet in our parking lot—he was nearly an hour late for dinner and was not answering his phone. But Kenneth was always telling me I worried too much so I kept trying to put a check on my inquietude. Still, the two owls circled the house in the middle distance of the tall trees that surround our house and all at once I began to feel that something was very wrong.

I ran to my own car and frantically drove to look for him. I finally found him slumped over in the crammed entryway of one of his storage units, the door ajar, and his phone locked in the van. He was never without his phone so it is a mystery why it would be in the locked van—only one of many mysteries and mistakes left unexamined in the followup police investigation.

We do not know what transpired in the final hours of Kenneth’s life. We may never know. What is certain is that it was not the good end any of us who respected and loved him would have wished for him.

It remains a struggle to move on without him. Not many people know that Kenneth was a voracious reader. I am still setting aside books that I think he would like to read. Dozens of times a day I remind myself to tell him about something I’ve heard or seen, to the point where I just do—it’s easier than trying to remember not to. I am too old to break the habit of communing with someone I knew well for over 40 years.

I keep trying to “get on with it” as Kenneth’s Scots-Irish ancestors would likely exhort, because I know he would not want any of us to remain in so much pain. He had contended with chronic pain for many of his later years and would not want the rest of us to be held in its prison for long. Easier said than done.

The owls have not been back since the evening Kenneth died or, at least, I’ve not seen them. Occasionally I think I hear them. I don’t know why they are gone—whether they found a better nesting site or they simply miss the daily passing to and fro of our resident gentle giant, who frequently reported that he heard and spotted them. I hope they and their offspring are alive and well. We miss them, too.

Kenneth Aaron Pace, 1950 – 2017

Kenneth Aaron Pace died unexpectedly on Sunday, September 3, 2017 in Knoxville, Tennessee, at 67 years of age. He was born in Hendersonville, North Carolina, on May 27, 1950. Kenneth and his surviving wife of 41 years, Theresa Pepin, moved to Knoxville in 1982 where he worked on downtown renovations in connection with the World’s Fair. He graduated from Henderson County High School in 1968 and obtained a B.F.A. from Western Carolina University on the G.I. Bill following his service in the Vietnam War with the United States Navy on the USS Hancock aircraft carrier. Kenneth continued art studies at the University of Tennessee over the years and served on the board of Candoro Arts and Heritage Center and led an art group near his home in Lakemoor Hills. He was a well known general contractor in the Knoxville area as well as in Hot Springs, North Carolina, where he renovated a cottage across from the historic Jesuit Retreat Center. Kenneth and his wife were particularly supportive of the Hot Springs Public Library in that small town.

He was a gentle giant of a man and looked like a rugged mountaineer from the 19th century but had all the sensitivity of a fine artist and a natural poet. Kenneth was a genuinely kind soul and made many friends in every community he participated in and contributed to. He will be greatly missed by his deeply affectionate cat, Buddy. Kenneth is preceded in death by beloved grandparents, William and Eleanor Bourget; father, Jesse Aaron “Buddy” Pace and brother, Andrew Pace. He is survived by his mother, Elizabeth “Betty” Bourget Pace of Hendersonville; brothers Melvin and Jonathan Pace of Hendersonville, NC, Dwayne Pace of West Asheville, NC, Robert Pace of Sylva, NC, and Stephen Pace of Spring Hill, FL; sisters-in-law, Cecilia Pepin Pelaez, Bernadette Pepin Kiep, Veronica Pepin Bower, Rose Pepin Miller, and Rita Pepin Esterwood; brother-in-law, Paul Andre Pepin and many nieces and nephews.

To honor Kenneth’s wishes the cremation was completed and services held privately by the family. In lieu of flowers memorials may be made in Kenneth’s memory to the Hot Springs Public Library, P.O. Box 175, Hot Springs, NC 28743 or the Candoro Arts and Heritage Center, P.O. Box 9473, Knoxville, TN 37940, or a charity of your choice.