A constant stream of automobiles flowed into the parking lot at St. George’s Antiochian Orthodox Church on Saunders Settlement Road, and then they slowly ebbed out. Inside the church, hundreds of familiar faces inched their way through the sanctuary, paying their respects to the bereaved family, viewing the body and then chatting with others that they may not have seen in awhile. You would have thought that a politician, a priest, a war hero or, at the very least, some celebrity laid in state in that rotunda-shaped building. What could have drawn so many people to the edge of town to say good-bye?
It was because Kevin Mokhiber died, and he was just a simple hardware counter clerk who had a passion for old cars and for good people. I extend my condolences to his family, friends and coworkers.
I knew Kevin through of his employment at DeFranco’s True Value Hardware Store on Hyde Park and Pine, and, from him, I had purchased many items for home repairs and such. Those items included nuts and bolts, tape measures, fuel cans for the lawn mowers, paints, and other items.
I also knew that he recently endured some medical issues; and when I saw him out a few weeks ago, he was confidently dismissive about the seriousness of his situation. As he shook my hand, I was confident that he would overcome his maladies, and that we would be friends for many years to come.
I laughed when I read the comments that Kathleen Culbreth’s posted in the memorial section of the online obituary about Kevin, and how her children were devastated to find that he was not their ‘real’ uncle. I understand that — I have scores of children that call me uncle and, like Kevin did, I love them as if they were my ‘real’ nieces and nephews.
Real is not necessarily about the bloodlines for which we may have had no input, nor is it necessarily in the families in which God have placed us. Real is about the relationships that we establish with each other out of that love that God has placed in our hearts. And, of course, like most guys, Kevin and I never expressed the ‘reality’ of the concern that we had for each other. But, I believe that both of us understood it in the passing moments of our conversations — be they at the hardware store; or encountering a wave at each other as we passed in opposite directions while driving on the street; or those few moments that we chatted while enjoying a cup of coffee. They were enough for us to know that we recognized each other as sincere and real human beings.
In a sense, I suppose that Kevin has overcome his maladies through the confidence of Christ, our Lord and Savior. And, in years to come, like you, dear reader, and so many others that have passed before us, and those that will pass in the years to come, having confidently overcoming our own trouble-freeing maladies, we will once again shake hands with Kevin, and at that time renew an eternal friendship. You see, as I purchased items for “home re-pair from” Kevin’s business, Christ was about the business of “home pre-pare for him.”
I know, going forward, that it will be difficult for me to pass a classic car show without thinking of Kevin; he was an enthusiast. Or to drive pass St. Joseph’s Cemetery without glancing over and giving him a thought where he rests. Or going into DeFranco’s Hardware Store; and, even though he is no longer there, not hearing — somewhere in the creases of my mind — the echoes of his nutty words bolting out a joking rebuke or two; the two of us measuring out each other with our words of humor and respect, and each refueling our individual zests for life.
As I think back, I realize that there was one item in that store that I never purchased from Kevin. Never once have I bought a light bulb there. I suppose that I didn’t need to do so. As well-lit as Christopher Finitz keeps his hardware store, and with as much sunlight that pours through those pristine windows, regardless of the bright colored paint in which I may have covered my occasional gloominess, the silver light of Kevin’s smile filled my soul with the golden glow of his personality whenever I walked up to the counter where he stood.
Though Kevin’s candle may have silently flickered out, in no way did it diminish his resonant light.
Ken Hamilton is a Niagara Falls resident. Contact him at kenhamilton930@aol.com.
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HAMILTON: Kevin Mokhiber — the hardware clerk that softened thousands of hearts
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