Today I come to you with great sadness and concern.



Yesterday I was at the grocery store and I got a phone call from my roommate. She never calls me since we live together, so I knew right away that something was wrong, and my heart immediately started racing with anxiety and fear.



She had to deliver some of the toughest news that I’m still not able to stomach.



Pat Bostwick passed away.



I first met Pat just two months after I had started writing this column.



He was sitting at the bar at Magoo’s, patiently listening to the people around him as he often did.



After some chatting with the buddies around us, he leaned over and asked if I was Natasha from the Weekly Volcano.



I smiled, and acknowledged the fact, but I was sure to ask how he knew that (I figured someone had told him).



He said, “I can just tell.”



He’s the only person who has figured that out just by observing my behaviors, and that’s just one small indicator as to how thoughtful, wicked smart and perceptive Pat was.



Whenever I would see Pat at places including Magoo’s, Doyle’s and the Top of Tacoma, one of my favorite things to do was cuddle up next to him at the bar, and he was always so kind and gracious in letting me ask him questions about his week, his adventures in life, especially about the world traveling that he loved so dearly, and of course, Frank Sinatra.



Pat was and always will be such a sweet, generous, shy, and unassumingly wonderful man, and I’m so sad that I won’t get to see his comforting Cheshire cat grin again.



I can’t even begin to describe the number of people in this city and everywhere else who were so close with Pat and so broken down over the tragic loss of this great man, or how difficult it’s been as we’ve held each other through tears. I’m very worried about several people right now. I hope these people will log onto our Weekly Volcano Web site under this column in the Fix section to sound off with all of the amazing stories about Pat because there’s no way that this small space could ever do him justice.



As many glasses were raised in his honor, which will only continue to occur, we’ve decided that Tacoma has been shut down in honor of Pat.



What this is reinforcing over and over is that we should all do a better job of, and it’s downright critical, letting people know just who they are to us, and how much we care about them.



Dear readers, I sincerely hope that you’ll keep Pat’s family and his many friends in your thoughts because we’ve lost a legend, an icon, and a gentle, sweet soul.







Tell me where you like to party at sceneofthecrime@hotmail.com.