Our friend Wayne (In memory of Wayne Tishburn)
 by Howie  

He was born in South San Francisco, a child of the post war boom. He died in a hotel room in Bangkok under circumstances that still have not been explained to anyone's satisfaction. It's the time in between these two events that would probably tell the story. Except the details are not fully known. 

San Francisco was a simple place then. It had the San Francisco Seals of Pacific Coast League in Baseball, something called the San Francisco 49ers in the All American Football League, a minor league hockey team, a lot of college football (Cal, Stanford, USF, Santa Clara, St. Mary's), the Opera, a Labor friendly city government and a small time atmosphere. He grew up there with his parents and sister. 

Then it was a tour of duty with the U.S. Navy where he may or may not have had his first introduction to Asia and the near East. He lived for a time in Southern California where he worked in the defense industry. Then it was soon to the Oil Rich Kingdoms which spawn "ex-pats" from all the nations of the world.

His first choice was Beirut during its heydays, a glamorous place with plenty of action and excitement. An Uncivil War put an end to that. Then on to Thailand where he found his calling. He enjoyed everything about the country. He loved the easy excess to pleasure and the chance to start over from whatever had driven him from his home in America. 

Along the way he acquired at least two wives. One of them a black lady in Southern California. He was a redneck without prejudices. He believed that whatever a person chooses to do was their business and theirs alone. He settled into life in Pattaya the way a duck takes to water. He fit the city and the city fit his style. 

No one ever enjoyed talking more than "Himself". He read a lot, was well versed about most all subjects and had strong opinions on everything. Although he hadn't been back to the States in year's he was keenly aware of what was going on. He once told a friend, "I'll never go back." And now he won't. 

Sitting with "Himself" at the "main table" was always a delight. At one establishment there were two tables, aside each other, in front.

His was on the right. Many a time a person had come in and had to sit on the left until a seat at the "main game" opened. One time a person left the "main table" as he was also getting up to visit the restroom. This writer took one seat leaving "His" open. A newcomer came in and sat in that place. The person next to me left before he returned from the lou. He sat next to me. Looked at the interloper sitting in "HIS PLACE". "He doesn't know." 

He loved talk (about almost anything), he loved the HASH, he loved giving advice, directions and reminiscing about the old days. He loved a little Mekong (make that a lot), a good meal or a trip to the TQ. For a period of time he never left his seat overseeing activity on Soi Post Office. Yet he would still know everything that was going on in his city. 

Those that don't know will dismiss him as just another "ex-pat" who drank too much and talked about "what was". They would be wrong. He was more. Much more. He was Pattaya. He was every man who had fought the battle of life and somehow not won, as we all must loose. He made a place for himself in the country of his choice.  He was special. He was special to all those that really knew him. He was our friend Wayne. We will miss him with all our hearts. We pray that he is now in Gods hands. We hope that God realizes what a treasurer he's just acquired. 

May you rest in peace.