Barry's light honored at service
The sirens sounded, the bells rang and the little lights shone.
The memories and laughter flowed, too, as friends and family celebrated the life of the irreplaceable Barry Webb last Saturday. With all the fanfare and the bleachers full at Linderman gym, Polson's most famous resident would have no doubt been thrilled with the affair.
Barry, a fixture in Polson for his entire life, passed away on Feb. 23 at his home on 7th Avenue after battling lymphoma for several months.
Many who spoke knew Barry from his daily route visiting friends around Polson.
All people leave fingerprints everywhere, in all things they do and touch, friend Jackie Cripe said.
"Barry Webb left heart prints, not fingerprints," she said.
Cripe was the first of eight friends of Barry who spoke during the memorial, which also included a Presbyterian Chancel Choir rendition of Barry's favorite hymn, "Fall Like Rain." The service was led by Dave Anson, the pastor at Barry's church.
"God granted Barry some amazing, remarkable and enviable gifts," friend Marsha Anson said. His memory, Anson said, allowed him to never, ever forget a name. One day at church he named every single person sitting in the sanctuary at Presbyterian Church of Polson.
The way he cared for people and his faithfulness were also unsurpassed, Anson said.
For years and years Barry rang the bell and put out the candles at church.
"Now it's become a problem," Anson said with a laugh. "Nobody remembers how it happened before Barry."
Friend Francis Davidson could just imagine, he said, Barry asking Moses in Heaven, "Are you lost?"
Barry would never miss a day of church, but of course others did. And it was up to Barry to make it known they weren't there. Kaye Stam knew Barry at church and at the Polson Senior Center. He kept track of her attendance and was especially sorry when Stam wasn't in church to perform with the bell choir.
On Saturday, it was Stam's turn to notice the void.
"Barry, I miss you on church on Sunday, and I thank the Lord for having known you," she said.
Russell Stone presented Barry's sister Charlotte with a broom, in remembrance of Barry's innovative scheme to get passed a lock his mother installed high on their door when he was young. Barry never wanted to stay inside.
Most remarkable, every speaker noted and all those in attendance knew, was Barry's gift of love.
"Heaven's a perfect place," Davidson said, "but it's a hair more perfect with Barry."
Little lights then shone up toward Barry in Heaven. They glowed from the fingers of those gathered to celebrate Barry. As the tiny lights glowed through the darkness, "Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine," everyone sang.
"Barry is one of those who is God's light walking among us," Dave had said. "To remind us we're more than just people who bumped into one another on the sidewalks."
The bell choir, in perfect form for its most loyal audience member, played "Celebration." To end the service, "The Stars and Stripes Forever," played as everyone made their way to the foyer for cookies and punch. Barry was no doubt leading the charge, arms crossed behind his back.
A huge American flag flapped outside, hung from a Polson fire truck.
It is these sights and sounds: the flags, the choir, the bells, the voices, that will forever stir the memory of Barry, the love he shared and the light he passed to all those he knew.