In the wake of the momentous floods of 2008, I found myself without a framer. The Art Cellar, which had so capably put up with the specificity of my idiosyncratic framing needs for over twenty years, had been, along with the rest of downtown Cedar Rapids, inundated by 8 feet of the teeming waters of the Cedar River. During that surreal time, Galen Lacey and his ebullient spirits came to my archival, preservation rescue.

Though Galen was a relative newcomer to the Mount Vernon community, his unfailingly gregarious manner had quickly insinuated him into the broad circle of varied cultural and social activities that distinguish that delightful Iowa town. His framing studio drew artists and customers alike, seeking the witty conversation that accompanied his impeccable professional services. And, over the course of a short summer, I came to depend on his discerning eye and good taste.

On the morning of October 3, 2008, Galen suffered a devastating heart attack. From that moment, the community of Mount Vernon rallied to this favorite son’s aid. An e-mail network coordinated by the indefatigable Katrina Garner, updated all of Galen’s friends of his condition. Galen’s sister, Julianne Gregory and her husband, Sid, essentially put their own busy lives on hold, to attend to Galen’s crisis and recovery. Artists, neighbors- all friends- performed innumerable large and small tasks as Galen survived the attack that destroyed his heart and the subsequent transplant that miraculously restored him to the prospect of a rich life to be taken up once again.

It was a bitter disappointment then, when Galen’s recovery became clouded by incessant complications and repeated hospitalizations. Throughout it all, Galen’s community- the people of Mount Vernon, Julianne and Sid, and many artists in farther-flung environs (I count myself among them) never wavered in their support. During a chat when he could first have visitors, Galen spoke of the blessing of his survival, if only to realize how genuinely people cared for him. The profundity of this realization and the prospect of eventual vitality sustained Galen for a year and a half.

This past Saturday evening, Galen succumbed to the exhausting conditions of a body that could not heal. It’s a cruel loss for all who felt him to be a kindred spirit. For all of these people, however, the true comfort is in the fact that Galen, after a lifetime of moving around, and many self-described, unsatisfying jobs, had found a home and work that he loved. I’m going to miss him.