Cheers

In September 2005, I was working night cops at the Tampa Tribune when a buddy, back from vacation, dropped the Jacksonville paper on my desk. Read this, he said.

The biscuits shine with shortening at Pouncey's Restaurant. The iced tea could be candy.

That was the first time I ever heard of Tom Lake.

I saw him in person a few months later, the day we both interviewed here at the St. Pete Times. He looked a tad Yale, but I liked him. And I liked him more after some beers on the back porch and some flag football and a road trip to meet Rick Bragg, during which we penned a song on a Target receipt about the sad lack of American toilet progress. I liked that he was particular, humble and always…