In Memory of Bert du'Aime
Morvan (France), July 4th 2009

Bert du'Aime (more widely known under his pen name, Wm. Wharton) passed away on Oct 29th, 2008. He is survived by two sons, Matt and William, a daughter, Camille, his wife, Rosemary, and several grandchildren. They organized a celebration in his memory to be held in Morvan, France, July 4th, 2009. When the du'Aimes throw a party, people come from 10,000 miles away to attend ... people whose only apparent connection with the family is that one of their kids attended Rosemary's kindergarten class in Paris umpteen years ago, or was roommates for a season with one of their sons more than umpteen years ago, or some equally implausible and tenuous reason. The du'Aimes are collectors of people.

I will not try to summarize Bert du'Aime's accomplishments; others who knew him much longer and better than I (who met him only once) have already done so. I knew him only as an author, not as a painter, friend, father, husband, mentor, or whatever else he might have been to the many people whose lives he touched. As an author, I rank him among the very best story-tellers. He, Vonnegut, Conrad, and Steinbeck are my favorite authors. Story-teller is a primordial calling, like fire-maker, witch-doctor, deer-hunter, path-finder; not everyone can be a story-teller, Bert was. Bert kindly wrote a Preface to my own published collection of stories; click here for my collection of stories with Bert's Preface.

Below is a foto taken of him in August 2004 at the Mill.

July 4, 2009, we had driven from Bern to Morvan Saturday morning and arrived too late for the eulogies--a number of people had reminisced about Bert. We made it in time for the horse-and-cart ride around the lake (see below).

Below: Emilia at the left; William (in pith helmet), Karolina in the middle; Kate in the foreground; Matt at right.
Farther below: Tom in the glasses looking ultra-cool; Karolina next to him.
Even farther below: winsome Clara.

Below, later that evening: Jame son guitar, Rosemary on vocals:

Below: Welcome to the hotel California: you can check out, but you can't ever leave.

Below: enjoying the evening.

We stayed at a local farm house (estate) which had been taken over by a Dutch couple and turned into a B&B. The farm house was pretty run down and obviously there is a lot of work still to do to get it in presentable shape, but the old-world charm shown through the patina of time. We had a suite of two bedrooms, sitting room, kitchen, and bath room, for only 100 EU per night (two adults and two kids). Below, scenes from the estate house:

Below: Sunday morning we took a walk through the Morvan countryside from Matt's house to his sister Camille's house, about 7 km. Bill and his wife Carolyn accompanied us. The wheelbarrow was Matt's idea, to take up the slack when one or the other of the gremlins got too tired to keep up.

Below: The route took us past the Mill. One of Bert's paintings is hanging on the Mill and is gradually being absorbed into the Mill itself.

Below: Inside the Mill.

Below: We carried on to Camille's house, meeting some wildlife on the way. The frog was about as big as the palm of my hand; we scooted him out of the roadway, for his own safety. The wet road surface, the frog's back, and Bert's paintings, bear a remarkable similarity of texture.