In a small town such as Winthrop, there are certain people who are so integral to the community that it is nearly impossible to imagine the town without them. Tom Sturtevant, who died suddenly last Saturday, fit that description. What a loss, not only to friends and family, but also to Winthrop, to central Maine, and—dare I say it?—to the world.

My husband, Clif, and I were trying to figure out how long we had known Tom. We moved to Winthrop in 1984, and while I don’t think it is accurate to say that we met Tom the first week we were in town, it seems as though it couldn’t have been too long afterward. I suppose it was because we were interested in similar things—gardening, social justice issues, the environment, reading, and, of course, the library. Tom and I both had plots in the community garden; Tom and I were both on the board of the Winthrop Food Pantry; and Tom (as well as his wife, Mary) and I had both agreed to be on the committee to raise funds for the proposed library expansion. In fact, we were all at a library meeting last Thursday, and he was delighted that I had walked rather than drive. “Good for you,” he said.

Tom might have been in his eighties, but he had the energy of a much younger man. At a food pantry meeting in October, both Tom and I rode our bikes, and, yes, we were very pleased with ourselves for using such a low-carbon way of getting to the food pantry.

His obituary in the Kennebec Journal is beautifully written, and it does such a good job of summing up this terrific man’s life. In brief, he was a husband, father, grandfather, English teacher, proof reader, peace activist, devoted volunteer, a charter member of the Veterans for Peace, a swimmer, a skater, a maple syrup producer, and a gardener. The small yard at his home in town is a marvel of beauty and productivity, bursting with vegetables and flowers, and it is a wonderful example of how much food can be raised on a relatively small amount of land.

One of the things that fascinates me about people is how the various and sometimes opposite strands of their personalities are woven together. As my friend Claire has put it, Tom was “a great peace activist.” Indeed he was, but Tom was also crazy about hockey, not exactly a peaceful game. One day, I met him in town.

“Hi, Tom,” I said.

“Hi, Laurie,” he croaked back, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you have a cold?”

“No,” came the whispered answer. “I went to a hockey game last night and screamed myself hoarse.”

No doubt, hockey games were a great release for this dedicated peace activist, a place where he could go and safely scream until he could barely talk.

Everywhere we go in town, we hear tributes to Tom and such sadness over his passing. How he is missed already! At a Green Committee meeting on Tuesday, there was a moment of silence as we reflected on Tom and his life. I spoke about how Tom never seemed to give up caring about the world and about people, about how he was an example for all of us.

A service for Tom will be held on Saturday, January 14th at the Winthrop Middle School gym at 2:00 P.M. My husband, Clif, and I plan to be there early as we know it will be packed.