i fondly remember from when my family lived one door away in Acadia. My wife Ellen and Della spent many hours together .My

sons Rob and Gary went to school together with Blair and Rae. Sadly they are all gone now, Just me and my cat. My best wishes and blessings to you and all yours in this difficult time and in the future.

Douglas Marwood

To the family of Blaire, I knew him as a young boy and he was a friend of my brother Tom and when Tom was dying of cancer Blair was by his side like a friend would be. I last saw Blaire in Tom’s room and was thankful he had friends to support him. I hope all the family knows how much character he had. God Love Him Tim Hunter

It’s hard to capture the essence of someone who made such a profound impact on your life, but Blair’s memory is woven into so many cherished moments. I met him during a camping trip, a serendipitous encounter that began with my tears. I’d just found out my aunt had been diagnosed with breast cancer and was overwhelmed by the weight of being alone in that moment. Blair saw me sitting there and, without hesitation, walked over and started playing with my dog. I couldn’t help but laugh when I had to tell him he’d just rolled around in my dog’s pee. That laughter was the beginning of a bond rooted in shared grief, humor, and the stories of life that brought us together.

Through the years, our connection deepened. He was there when I lost my mom, when Rea passed, and when he faced the heartbreak of losing his own mother. He somehow managed to break through to my father, a man rarely willing to open up, and they formed a bond that became a lifeline of weekly phone calls and shared memories. Blair was more than a friend; he was family. When my son came into the world, he became "Grandpa Blair," a title he wore with pride. He taught my boy how to fish, fix things, and, of course, how to stir up just the right amount of trouble to keep life interesting.

Blair’s stories were legendary, filled with cowboy wisdom, love, and endless pride for his kids, Chance and Joey, and his four grandkids. He would share their photos and tales with such joy, his pride shining through every word. And oh, how I’ll miss his morning texts, always starting with “Good morning camper,” and those late-night fireside chats where his advice, whether about life or my endlessly troublesome two-stroke engine, always hit the mark.

The world feels a little emptier without him. His loss is profound, and my heart aches knowing there will be no more "Grandpa Blair" adventures or mischievous plans to hatch. But his spirit—his stories, his love, and his laughter—will always stay with me, and I will carry his memory forward with every fishing trip, every fireside story, and every mischievous smile. Rest easy, my friend.