We buried Hubert on the first day of spring more than a dozen years ago. It was a Jewish service, according to his wishes, and I delivered the eulogy to about sixty mourners. To my knowledge, Hubert hadn't requested the cold, miserable and incessant rain which that day made soft and sensual mud of the soil we all meant to throw over his coffin, but it was somehow fitting that the big man would be laid to rest in stormy and inconvenient weather . . .
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We buried Hubert on the first day of spring more than a dozen years ago. It was a Jewish service, according to his wishes, and I delivered the eulogy to about sixty mourners. To my knowledge, Hubert hadn't requested the cold, miserable and incessant rain which that day made soft and sensual mud of the soil we all meant to throw over his coffin, but it was somehow fitting that the big man would be laid to rest in stormy and inconvenient weather . . .
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