I hope you’ve had a friend or two you see infrequently, but always reconnect with instantly. Connection rich in history, emotionally resonant. Dave Montgomery was this kind of friend to me. Monty died yesterday. I’ll not try to address his incredible resume here. Rather I’d like to share a few stories as so many others will about a guy, my friend who knew how to truly love. And receive so much more in return.

I approached Monty in 1971 hoping he would join my firm to sell life insurance. After imploring him to do so, he casually but sensitively said, “Bobby, I’m going to work with the Phillies.” I replied, “Oh, as an exec trainee? In management? “ After all Monty has an MBA from Wharton … “No, I’m going to work in the ticket office.” Wow … I’d lost out to a job pushing tickets through a window. Then this …“But if I wasn’t joining the Phillies, Bobby, I’d accept your offer. You see my dad died when I was a young boy. He had a $5,000 life insurance policy. The proceeds paid my way to Penn Charter. The experience that changed my life. ”An experience that birthed a storied career in baseball with the Philadelphia Phillies. From ticket sales to Chairman of the Board. Oh … he did buy an insurance policy from me. At my 50th Penn Charter reunion in 2013, forty two years later Monty showed up. Holding that old insurance policy high, smiling. “Bobby, I’ve still got it!” 42 yrs later. Tradition, loyalty. Call it what you will. I was touched. Monty had the gift of touching so many others.

I never forgot how enamored, smitten David was with Lynn Sagendorph. A beautiful gal maybe Monty felt was just a little beyond his reach. Shared his feelings with me. Think many of us have had loves like Lynnie. Ultimately she married a fellow PC guy. Had two kids. Game over for Monty? Not quite. Lynnie’s marriage failed. Monty and Lynnie later married. Storybook stuff. A love that lasted until his passing yesterday. Magical.

Then there was Bill Schweitzer. The counsel to Major League Baseball. A fraternity brother of mine at Trinity College. “Schweitz” knew Monty from baseball negotiations. Had immense respect for him and told me so often. When Bud Selig, then Commissioner of Baseball retired … “Bricks, if Dave wants to be the next Commissioner of MLB, he’ll be voted in.” But Monty turned it down. “I’m not very good at politics. Love my interaction with the players and fans of Philadelphia. That’s me.” So him.

I was blessed to be with Monty last Summer. Played golf with him at his club, Philadelphia Cricket. He showed up with a patch over his right eye. A cancer that had plagued him in recent years had returned. Affecting his optical nerve. “Bobby, without the patch I see three balls.” We played 18. He had 6s … 12s. One par. Recorded every score. Finished every hole. In the cart on #8 … “Bobby, I’ve had a great life.” Tears welled in my eyes. He knew his time was precious. We came to the 18th green. Monty was 45 ft from the hole. On the back fringe. Severe downhill putt. No way to sink it. Just keep it on the green! In the cup it went. That smile … the high five. The eye contact. What a final memory for me.

Dave Montgomery will be remembered as one of the nicest people one could ever know. But you don’t lead a baseball team to two World Series, be revered as he was without a lot of guts and determination. Monty had to make tough decisions. Cut this guy, fire this employee. In short … Monty was above all known to be nice, humble. But he could always “steel up” when his values came into play. You never questioned his integrity or his commitment to do the right thing. Finally the greatest lesson I take away from this life so well lived? His capacity to love others. Love all. Softly, humbly. Even a little selfishly. Huh?! Yes, selfishly.
Unique people like Monty learned early in life that true joy comes from reaching out in love to others and getting so much more for yourself in return. 

God speed dear friend. I just raised my arms one more time. In celebration. The indelible image in my mind of that amazing putt on #18!