This memorial has been set up to allow Martin's family and friends to share stories and memories of his life. If you have a story to share please share it in the comments section.
From Martin's sister Barbie...
Since Martin has been in the news so much, I've read a few posts about him. Of course these people couldn’t understand that Martin wasn't like any other person. Many have commented about how he must have been so lonely and needed help. Well maybe he needed help, but he would never have admitted it or accepted it. As far as lonely - I believe that everyone who knew Martin, very much enjoyed his company. I believe that he knew he could be around friends as much as he liked. I know I never got to see him as much as I would have like to. He just really enjoyed being alone and working on his blog or researching this or that.
Like Todd, I saw the signs and was suspicious that Martin was considering suicide for the last year. But it was never because he was unhappy. He seemed more at peace than ever. But there were many other signs that he was preparing to “check out”. Anyone who knew Martin knew they couldn't talk him out of anything once he made up his mind. I never believed for one minute that there was a mental health professional or pastor that could have helped Martin to see anything differently. He was going to do whatever he was going to do. I was just going to enjoy this new more relaxed brother of mine for as long as I had him.
I am broken-hearted but I do not begrudge what he did. He always had a difficult time conforming to this world. He was truly like a square peg in a round hole. That’s what made him so entertaining. Because I know he believed in Jesus Christ and was saved, I know he is finally at peace. It may sound terrible to some, but in many ways I am happy for him. I sure will miss him though...
Before I moved to Topeka, Martin and I didn’t get to see each other very often. So of course I would want to give him a hug before I left. He never would let me…it was too mushy I guess. Anyway, one time as I was getting ready to leave, I told him I WAS going to hug him. He stated that was NOT going to happen. He was sitting in his recliner. I basically sat on him which resulted in an all-out wrestling match. In the process we broke a crystal wine glass. I never did get my hug and I doubt Chris was very happy about the broken glass, but I think he got the point. Because after that, when we saw each other, Martin would give me a somewhat “rigid” hug. In recent years, they became “real” hugs. And for the last few years, he even would tell me he loved me. He came by our house 6 days before he died. We had a very enjoyable visit. As he left, he shook my husband’s hand and said “Take care of my sister”, then he gave me a really big hug and told me he loved me. That was the last time I saw him.
I became divorced in the early 90s. I could tell that Martin felt somewhat responsible for taking care of me at that point. I could also tell that he always wished I would get me a guy so he didn’t have to worry about me. He was so pleased when Phil and I got married and he could “give me away”. I know that me having Phil in my life gave him extra peace when he decided to go.
From Martin's brother Michael...
The sad fact is that I did not spend that much time with Martin thru 57 years. I missed out. I feel that Martin had a great and rewarding life, and for most of the time ,the life was peaceful and spiritual. What man could want more? I will always remember two amazing times with Martin. The first was when he sent me a copy of Basketball Heaven . I had no idea he was even working on a book and it was quite an unexpected surprise. He had taken his passion for sports and combined it with a fanatical obsession for statistics, then added his own highly unique writing style and published a fabulous book. At the time, there were no other publications that were even close to what Martin's current stats, team rosters, coaching styles, and team predictions and reviews. And of course, he invented a rating system to rank the players that is still being used in the NBA. I will always remember Martin being interviewed at the NBA all-star game by CNNSI's Fred Hickman. That was success at it's finest.
The other amazing time I had with Martin was when we went to the World Series in 1985. Back then the Royals were consistently good and even great. Many times a bunch of us from Larned state hospital got together and made the long drive to K.C. to watch games. After years of that it was just fantastic when the Royals actually made the playoffs. However, after 4 games with Toronto the Royals were down 3 games to 1. Not many teams had come back from that deficit to win a series. Now, here's the thing. In order to get the time world series tickets printed , the Royals started selling World series ticket at that time. With the Royals down 3 games to 1! So, I get on the phone to order tickets and stay on hold for hours upon hours. It's like the middle of the night and a voice wakes me up." May I help you?" Hell yes you can help me.! By then, all the tickets were gone thru the first game, the second game, the third game, the fourth game, and if necessary, the fifth game. Some nice tickets were available for the sixth game, no assurance that that game would even be played. And then I waited it out. K.C. won the fifth game against Toronto and my hope was alive. Then K.C. won the sixth game and I started to believe. When K.C. won the seventh game I was the world's happiest man. The Royals were going to the World Series and I had tickets. Then, very familiar scenario played out. After 4 games the Royals were down 3 games to 1. Exactly the same as the league series with Toronto. No team had ever, and I mean ever, came back from 3 to 1 deficits in both the league championship and the World Series. The odds against it were enormous. You'd have to win six straight do or die games in a row. However, I just want the Royals to win one more game and I would be going to my first and only World Series. The second that the fifth game was over the Royals had won and forced a sixth game, I got on the phone to give Martin the surprise of a lifetime. What we experienced at that game was the ultimate stressful 8 scoreless innings, along with the ultimate explosion of celebration of the 9th inning. I am certain that nothing in Martin's life or my own has ever been the thrill of that moment. I am so glad that we shared that together.
From Martin's ex-wife Teri...
Martin wasn’t a great husband—he’d freely admit that. But he was a great friend. He was always there for me and the girls; whether I needed something fixed around the house or just felt like getting out to catch a movie, he was just a phone call away. I took him out to celebrate his birthday two days before. He said we couldn’t go out on his actual birthday because he’d be gone. He wouldn’t tell me where. I certainly suspected what he had in mind at that point; I guess I just didn’t want to believe it. Anyway, we talked and laughed for a long time that night, and he seemed to really enjoy himself. He said in his letter to me that he wouldn’t have wanted to spend his last days any other way, so I’m glad we had that time and that he was happy.
A lot of things that he’d said and done over the past year make more sense now that we know what he was planning. We went out for Jaime’s birthday at the end of July, and Martin wanted to go along. He said he wanted to pay for half the dinner. It was so unlike him to want to spend money on something “frivolous” like that. We went to a nice restaurant, too, and he didn’t even complain about the prices. Weird. The subject of his wallet came up that night and he pulled it out. That was the most pathetic-looking wallet ever. It was held together by strings and glue. I remember that he said that night that he’d be buried with that wallet. I guess he changed his mind, because among the pictures and mementos in the box he left for me, I found his wallet; complete with the pictures of the girls he always carried and a little love note I had slipped in there probably 12 or 13 years ago when we were married. We all had a good laugh when we saw the wallet. I will certainly keep that forever; nothing could remind me more of Martin.
Martin was the cheapest human being I’ve ever met. And he was proud of it. He once picked up a banana he found in a parking lot, and took it home to eat it. He really did wear the same ugly pair of Wal-Mart shoes for the last 12 years. In the end, all the money he’d saved over his life, he gave away to people who needed it more than he did. I’m sure he helped a lot of people. He also did everything he could to make his death easier on those of us he was leaving behind. I know he waited until the girls were grown and self-sufficient, and had good men in their lives to help them through this. He asked several times recently if everything was okay with the house, so he could have fixed something if needed. He would have been happy that everything worked out just as he planned it, so I’m trying to be happy for him. I’m very sad to lose him, and I will miss him always. If we learn anything from losing Martin, I hope it’s that we should tell our friends and family that we love them, every chance we get. Because we just never know when we will run out of chances.
From Martin's stepdaughter Jaime...
Martin was my stepdad for 5 years, from when I was 9 until I was about 14. He and I always had a difficult relationship. He knew just how to get under my skin, and I knew how to get under his. But even through all of our head-butting, we cared about each other a lot. In his letter to me, Martin included the following quote:
“Everyone you have ever loved in your life becomes a part of your soul. They never leave. They're always inside you, and you can bring them out whenever you want.” - Nate Kenyon
Since I first read my letter, this quote has stuck with me, and it was the perfect thing for Martin to say. Even though he and I weren’t as close as we should have been, he was an important part of my life, and I will always love and remember him.
Some of my favorite memories with Martin were at Godfather’s pizza. He used to take Marissa and me to the buffet every single week when we were kids. I was always amazed when he would put down 12 pieces of pizza, but of course, he only ate once a day. As cheap as Martin was, he always insisted that we leave nothing on our plates at dinner, and he went so far as to lick his plate clean on more than one occasion.
Another moment that I will always remember is the tornado at the Woodlands. I’ve always loved storms, so I thought it was pretty cool, as did Martin. He was so determined to get pictures of it that he refused to come inside and told the security guard that he was a professional photographer. It may have been dangerous and stubborn, but he certainly got some great pictures that will always remind me of him.
I am confident that I will never meet anyone like Martin again. He was different, to say the least. I will always cherish the time we had together. While it is hard to see him go in this way, I know that it made sense for him, and all I can do is try to be happy that everything worked out the way he wanted.
From Martin's friend Todd...
In the months prior to his death, I sensed that something wasn't quite right. I had helped him a lot with his sports blog and he new I would gladly help him with anything, especially when it came to technology. He was asking me very specifically how to do certain things like, how to post an mp3 file or how to use ftp etc. I told him that on some these things I could do it for him way faster than I could tell him how to do it. To which he would offer a lame excuse like, it's just something I'm thinking about doing.
At some point in July he was over at our house. We sat together looking at a new TV my wife and I had recently purchased. He was very distracted and spent a lot of time looking at the nik-naks my wife has all around the house. He made a comment about a deer statue in the shelves. He told me he had a ram statue almost exactly like the deer. That night he left some music equipment with me, which I didn't want to take but he kept insisted that I keep it. I kept asking what if you ever want to use it again? To which he said, it's so cheap to use a studio anymore that he didn't want to burn the brain cells needed to learn to use the equipment himself. Needless to say, I came away thinking it was odd and I had a distinct feeling that he was tidying up loose ends.
Fast forward to the morning of August 15th. Melody and I were having coffee, watching the birds out our back window, when the doorbell rang. It was FedEx dropping a packing on the front porch. We looked at each other and asked, are you expecting a package? No ... no. So I opened the front door and saw that the package was from Martin. The first words out of my mouth, before we opened the package were, he better not have committed suicide.
Martin was a very good friend. Not all friends can challenge each other's assumptions. Not all friends can challenge each other intellectually without getting mad or feeling disrespected. Martin was confident and self assured and never wanted to admit he was wrong about anything. How could someone as obsessive and analytical as Martin ever be wrong? That's what I think I'll miss the most about him. You see Martin was a good enough friend that we could argue about something, call each other names like idiot or moron, and know that those names were actually terms of endearment and not meant to be disrespectful. With that in mind, I'm going to share a funny memory that I can assure you, not only would Martin not be offended, he would wear it as a badge of honor.
The first day I met Martin was back in the 80's at an office he had rented in Topeka near the corner of Huntington & Twilight (approximately 31st & Gage). I was there to develop some software that he could use to collect and keep track of NBA stats. Primarily to calculate what is now known as the efficiency rating. At the time he called it the power rating. It seems like ages ago, it was before the internet and SQL databases on small platforms. Remember, I had never met Martin before this. We're sitting at his desk and he's eating the biggest brownie I'd ever seen anyone eat by themselves. (Anyone who knew Martin well, knows that for him there's only two food groups, Pizza and Brownies) It's on a large plate and he's using a letter opener to cut off pieces and eat them. Evidently he had an itch because between bites he would take the letter opener and scratch his butt crack with it. I watched this for a while and laughed at him. He looked up and said ... What? I said, you're scratching your ass with your eating utensil. To which he said something like ... So? It can't possibly hurt me. I haven't gotten sick yet and I do it all the time. If you knew Martin this would not surprise you at all. For one thing, he absolutely didn't care one iota what anyone else thought and he always justified everything he did.
Well, every time I'd tell this story at poker, Martin would sheepishly laugh and deny it. So Martin, due to circumstances within your control, it looks like I got the last word on this one. How do you like them apples?
I'm really going to miss you bud.
From Martin's friend Charlie...
I just talked to Rick Wright, someone both Martin and I knew from way back. We all attended King Solomon Christian Camp each summer from about fifth grade through high school. Rick reminded me of this story. I’m guessing when Martin and I were about 6th-5th grade, we were in the habit of walking around the camp holding hands with our girl friends of the week. At some point Martin and I used the rest room at the camp, and as we walked out, held each other’s hand; for about a second. That was enough, and quickly came the talk similar to “Trains, Planes, and Automobiles”. How about those Chiefs and the like. Also from camp days was when I said "Martin, you have to ask Jennifer if you can go swimming!" Martin said, "I do not, do I?" looking at Jennifer. I had lots of history with Martin.
From Martin's friend Joe...
I've got a lot of stories from times that Martin and I worked together, as well as just times we discussed business and life. I'll post some others as time goes by.
Today's story will be titled "It just doesn't get any better than this".
It was the early 90's and Martin was the manager of our security sales department, we sold and installed home and small business security systems in the Topeka area. This story is about the time Martin, Bill VanBuskirk and I flew to New York City to a security equipment trade show. Martin had never been to NYC, and as everyone who has frequented NY knows, the hassles never end; airport traffic, taxi drivers who don't speak English, hotel housekeepers who don't understand how Midwesterners treat their customers, etc... Well, after one day there, Martin was on a rant... 'I hate this place', 'can't get anywhere', 'they're all rude', and on and on. I about sent him home, except I was too cheap to buy him another airline ticket.
Finally, the show was over and we got to the airport, but before getting on the plane Martin took some pictures of the airport. I didn't know why, but figured it was for him to remember his trip to NY.
During the early 90's there was a popular beer commercial with the slogan, "It doesn't get any better than this". They would show their beer and people having a great time and then the slogan...It doesn't get any better than this.
Now back to Martin; a couple of days after getting back to Topeka I came into the office one morning and there was a flyer on my desk that Martin had created. Inside LaGuardia International Airport Martin had taken pictures of an area of the building that had a sign hanging from the ceiling that read - "Welcome To New York City" and right behind it was part of the ceiling falling down, with wires hanging all over the place.
Martin's creation showed the photo of the sign, "Welcome to NY City", complete with the ceiling falling down, wires hanging everywhere and at the bottom of his flyer were the beer commercial words, "It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This".
Like life, Martin always had a real dislike for anything that was inefficient, lacked planning or was poorly executed. That's how he viewed NY, and that explains his obsession with his work. He would not be a part of a poorly executed plan. Kinda explains his website, doesn't it?
From Martin' friend Scott...
I spent several hours every other month driving with Martin to Topeka for our poker game. While he was always late to my house without fail he would complain within 5 minutes that we should be half way to Topeka by now if it weren't for my driving. We spent about half the time talking about his favorite topics: sports and finance. The rest of the time was open to ANY topic we found interesting, funny, shocking, or a combination of the three. While everyone at poker knows about his obsession with his " bathroom habits" we once spent over an hour coming up with clever lines to say to his proctologist for an upcoming exam. I'll miss those conversations but I won't miss the smells he was able to produce on the way back to KC after overeating at poker.
My other great memory of Martin involves his uncompromising attitude. One of our poker games requires a ranking of card suits. After playing bridge and a few other games where card suits mattered I was pretty convinced that I knew the order but Martin claimed it was a different order. When I mentioned that the order was actually spades, hearts, diamonds and clubs, Martin threw out his standard "I'll bet you $100 you're wrong." After considering the 2% chance that I was wrong I took the bet willing to pay but only wanting to collect from him the realization that he was wrong. Within 5 minutes Martin knew he was wrong and I let it slide. The next month at poker he waited until everyone was there and then pulled out $100 and paid off. His reasoning being that he'd rather pay off a lost bet then suffer the ribbing if he ever tried to use the "I'll bet you $100" line again. Needless to say, I saw him pay off the same $100 bet a few years later when he was convinced he could build a perpetual motion machine with magnets. He just forgot that there's not a material that blocks magnetic waves.
From Martin's friend and Kansas City Star co-worker Pete Grathoff...
It took me nearly five years to figure out the real reason Martin Manley kept an electric fan on his desk at the Kansas City Star.
It wasn’t for climate-control purposes, although he always had two thermometers nearby. Of course it was two; how else could a person get an accurate recording?
One day I noticed Martin would switch on that fan whenever there was an animated conversation in the sports department. Martin wasn’t opposed to debates about sports, in fact he loved them. However, these talks often veered into topics about TV shows or restaurants or politics. And one former co-worker, after getting the night’s work finished, occasionally would comment on every play of whatever game was on TV that night.
“Wow, what a dunk!” or “That didn’t look like pass interference!”
I sat in near proximity to Martin, who wouldn’t say anything (although sometimes there would be a deep sigh) or look up from his computer screen. His arm would extend and with one twist of a knob, the fan’s white noise would allow him to focus clearly on the work at hand. His work was breaking down what made a team or individual successful in a given sport.
And, of course, the nuts and bolts of victory were found in numbers. He just had to crack the code. And, boy, did he do that well. Martin was a pioneer in NBA statistics. His standard efficiency rating is still in use by the league today.
His blog for The Star offered unique insight into the professional and college sports scene in Kansas City. Martin’s writings scratched an itch for many fans who read Upon Further Review and later his personal blog, Sports In Review.
For Martin, there was always meaning in the numbers, whether it was sports, weather or finances. Through his eyes, the world was clearly black and white. While the rest of us see so much gray, Martin could break down everything into what he did and didn’t like. What worked and didn’t work. And that outlook transcended sports.
Martin liked pizza and nachos, so why eat anything else? He certainly couldn’t see the point of trying to gag down a vegetable.
The state of Kansas offered everything he needed or wanted. So why travel?
One of Martin’s best-remembered rants at The Star was about Shakespeare. “There is not one single solitary reason I can conceive of that could explain why Shakespeare should be taught in schools. Students are going to use what they learned in math when they get in the real world.”
The human condition? Martin undoubtedly believed he had it figured out.
Most of us are trying to find our way through the world, constantly evolving, but not Martin. While that may sound like a putdown, it is absolutely not. I admired that self-assuredness. Martin knew what he wanted from life and what pleased him. He had no need to push beyond his boundaries. He was happy with who is was.How many people can honestly say that?
However, that also caused more than a few dust-ups at The Star. Martin’s belief that he knew best, coupled with his meticulous nature, didn’t always mesh with the fluidity of putting out a newspaper nightly.
But any frustrations he felt at The Star never stopped him from probing into the nuances of the athletes, coaches and teams that play games in this area. Please don’t get the idea that Martin was a one-dimensional character. He was anything but a number-crunching nerd whose motto was “My Way or the Highway.” The trait Martin shared with us all was his many layers.
About the only things that kept him from work were his monthly poker games with his longtime friends and singing in his church choir. He also loved movies, the theater and had a close relationship with his ex-wife. How many people can honestly say that?
These were some of the things I knew about him. There is much more that I learned on the website he left behind.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t address the way he died. Suicide is never a good option. Never. My hope is that no misguided soul looks at the publicity that followed Martin’s death and thinks that’s what he or she should do. None of the stories following his passing mention the hurt and pain that were felt by his family and friends, including me. Please contact The Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-8255 www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org) if you’re thinking of taking your own life.
Martin may not have wanted to hear that, but I still would have told him as much.
From Martin's friends Steve and Carol...
It was funny the way our relationship with Martin evolved; we didn't
know him on a personal level until his divorce from Teri. He was so
sincere in his affection for Jaime and Marissa, and so wanted to keep in
touch with them, that we formed a friendship through our mutual desire
to spend time with the girls.
When they were young, there were many occasions of dinner and scrabble
at our house with Martin and the kids. As they got older, Martin was
always there to help them move or lend a hand with whatever they needed.
Even though our mutual love for Jaime and Missy brought us together, as
time went on Martin became a friend to us, and we believe he felt the
same way. He and Steve would get to laughing so hard at the dumbest
things - whether it was driving to Manhattan or working on a
construction project, there was always a lot of laughing and good times.
Martin was a scrabble genius and Steve or I could rarely beat him,
something that drove Steve crazy. He and Martin would get into the
funniest debates about words. Since they were both so stubborn, neither
wanted to give in, but it didn't matter, Martin would win the game anyway.
We are thankful Martin was a part of our lives and incredibly saddened
that he is gone. Suicide leaves those behind with a huge hole, anger
and pain. Steve talked to Martin the day before and told me something
was wrong. But as everyone has said, you could not stop Martin from
Martin will always be in our thoughts and prayers and some day God will
provide us all with the answers, knowing Martin, he just couldn't wait.
From Martin's friend Kipp...
I have known Martin for 29 years. I was fortunate to have had lunch with him the week before his suicide. We talked about many subjects, including some great memories from the past, a discussion about many sports related topics, and the merits of eating at the tiny diner in Dover. Martin seemed more at ease and in the best mood I have noticed in quite some time. Unfortunately, as I look back on the day, I now realize that this was Martin's way of saying a final goodbye.
I will probably post other comments in the future about Martin, but this post involves Martin and the topic of golf.
My claim to fame with Martin is the fact that I was with him when he hit a hole in one on the 13th hole at Lake Shawnee in Topeka. Martin recounts this as his "greatest sports achievement" in his lifetime. Hard to disagree. The funny part about this was how reluctant Martin was to acknowledge that the ball could have possibly gone in the hole once he hit the ball. We were staring straight into a bright sun and it was next to impossible to see the ball once it hit by the green. I saw the ball take one hop just short of the green and the ball was tracking toward the pin at the back of the green. The glare was too bright to see the ball after this, but I remember I told Martin that the last time I saw the ball, it was tracking right toward the hole. We jumped in the cart and drove up close to the green. No ball in sight. Martin insisted that we walk behind the green as he thought the ball could have rolled through the green. After about 5 minutes of this, I told Martin that the only possible place the ball could be located was in the hole. He insisted I go look in the hole. He didn't want to see if the ball was in the hole and wanted me to tell him what I did or didn't find. I refused to do this because after not seeing the ball anywhere else, I knew the ball was in the hole and wanted him to be the one to see the ball in the hole first. He refused to do this and would only agree to go up to the hole to look together. Lo and behold, there was the ball in the bottom of the cup!!!! I will never forget the look on Martin's face. He was beaming and shocked at the same time. Knowing Martin, I am sure that Martin was calculating the odds of scoring a hole in one while he was picking up his ball. Martin sent me this ball in a trophy that he had made along with the scorecard upon his passing. I will keep this memento with a fond memory of this being the only time that I have witnessed a hole in one while playing golf!
Martin told me a humorous story the last day I had lunch with him. When he was young, Martin lived close to the Shawnee Country Club in Topeka. Back then, there were only bushes between a par five that runs parallel to Adams and the street. Now there is a chain link fence, so this would never work today. But back then, Martin and a close friend (or his brother, I can't recall his partner in crime) used to hide behind these bushes when they saw a group teeing off on the hole. This particular hole has a tee box on the top of a hill and the shot is a blind downhill shot. Once the golfers hit the ball. Martin and his partner in crime would run onto the course and grab the golf balls off of the fairway. They would then hide in the bushes and laugh like crazy while these golfers would drive down the fairway cussing up a storm because they just "knew their ball had to be in the fairway" and they couldn't find the ball. Martin and his cohort would then sell these balls to a guy living a couple of blocks away for a dollar a dozen. This money making scheme came to an end when one day his partner in crime had been bragging to friends about how he and Martin would steal golf balls off of the course and then hide in the bushes until the golfers left. One day, this group of friends spied on Martin and just when the golfers were cussing up a storm, one of the friends yelled "look in the bushes"! Martin and his cohort made a mad dash for safety with their stash and didn't stop running for 3 blocks. Sadly, they had been busted and were afraid to repeat the crime. Thus ended Martin's first money making adventure.
While on the topic, for those that knew Martin and know how meticulous Martin is about statistics and numbers, I always found it almost comical about how non-meticulous Martin was about keeping score in golf. A double bogey sounded about like a good max score on this hole, this bunker sucks because it is all dirt and no sand so I am not going to count that shot, so on and so forth. For someone so addicted to numbers, statistics, and accuracy of data, Martin could be quite creative in keeping score in golf.
Martin also references how eventually he became so irritated with the game that he quit playing golf. What he didn't disclose is that he had bought a new set of Ping clubs that he had only used several times before he had this revelation. To show Martin's true character, when he had played with me he had noticed that I was playing with a very old set of worn out clubs. At the time, I wasn't making that much money and couldn't justify paying that much money for a new set of clubs. I was working for Joe and Charlie at the time, so what else would you expect? Anyway, to show the true generous nature of Martin's heart, he gave those almost new clubs to me when he decided to quit the game without asking for anything in return. I still have those clubs, although I have upgraded since then. This is yet another example of how kind, considerate, and caring Martin could be, especially to those close to him.
Martin, you will be missed. Poker will never be quite the same. I will think of you often, especially during basketball season when KU is contending for another title this year. I am sure you are probably pointing out to God that his method of keeping time on earth is statistically inaccurate and you have already come up with a much better statistically sound way to keep track of time. Or some other statistical challenge that needs to be tweaked. You may be gone, but you will never be forgotten in my heart.
From Martin's friend Debbie...
I miss him. I've known Martin for years and he was very very good to me. When I was in the hospital, he came to see me on a Saturday night. I was hooked up to every machine and he wheeled me and my equipment with tubes stuck everywhere outside so I could feel the air. He didn't care how I looked. I'll never forget that. And he did all of my guy stuff repair around my house. Would never take a dime, so I fed him!!!!!! He liked that.
I'm proud of Martin. He knew we would all feel the pain but he did it "Martin's Way." And he is not suffering anymore from something "called life." I'll keep the family in my prayers.
From Martin's Friend Kent...
For most of you who knew Martin casually I suspect his brashness and supreme self-confidence may have left you thinking hat he was not a very nice guy. Those of us that knew him well knew that that was completely untrue.
One of his virtues, which is hard to surpass is his loyalty as a friend. A story about this goes back to our early friendship. I met Martin, as a freshman at MCC in 1971. Martin was friends with many of the other Kansas freshmen already. I was from Nebraska and didn’t know anyone. He welcomed me into the group as few others did. For economic and other reasons I didn’t return for my sophomore year. I think males will find this more unusual than females, I think they are more communicative than males, but anyway time passed and I didn’t hear from anyone. I don’t think that would surprise anyone A few months passed and I got a letter from Martin asking what was going on with me, telling me he would like to see me and encouraged me to make a trip down to Manhattan, which I did. That interest meant a lot to me. It still does. Martin was the one who asked about my children, and later about grandchildren at poker night.
I have many, some conflicting feelings about his passing, but I know I have one less good loyal friend and those are hard to come by.