ロバート・ネッパーのインスタグラム(robert_knepperofficial) - 6月1日 01時09分

Dear Wayne,
You were "2nd chair" trumpet player. I was "1st chair." You challenged me often for my coveted seat. Sorry, I never let you take it. Thank you for always keeping me on my toes, then and now.
Your Dad worked for Standard Oil and he moved your family to Alaska back in '72, to help build the oil pipeline. I thought I had lost my best friend forever. What a treat to be able to talk to each over "long distance" on Christmas Eves and birthdays. ("Dad, can I have just 5 more minutes?")
The sun came out again when you and your family moved back to Ohio, just after high school graduation. We jogged ten miles every Summer day, along the banks of the Maumee River. I didn't give up because you didn't.
We called you "Big Ape" because that's what you looked like when you wiped out on the ice at Side Cut Park. (Who knew this klutz would grow up to be the Captain of his own Navy ship.)
We didn't play the brass or run or skate once we moved on in our adult life. Still, we kept in touch via email and the occasional phone call (thanks Ma Bell for bringing down the rates).
Thank you for being a huge part of my childhood, you big ape. I'll never forget you.

Wayne Atwood died on Saturday from Aortic Dissection. He was 56 years old. He leaves his wife, three kids and all who love him with countless memories.

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