Post by trailboss on Aug 12, 2020 20:33:37 GMT -5
From Jim Amash's Fb page.
Art Arterburn passed away August 11, 2020 at age 80. He was the admin of Smokersforum. UK, though he was an American who lived in Oklahoma. He led an amazingly varied life: served in the Army, spent a few years as a DJ, ran several different businesses from the 1960s on, including a pool hall, and a funeral supply service company. For over half a century, Art was an accountant with clients from virtual every section of the United States. He was an expert in American history, automobiles, sports, old time radio, movies, pipes, pipe tobacco, cigars, etc. You name it, Art knew a lot about it. He had a steel trap mind.
As a young man, he led a hard scrabble existence. Art grew up in a very poor family, and was working on the family farm as soon as he was old enough to handle a shovel. He learned how to hunt before he was ten years old to help feed his family. Art knew the value of hard work as much as any man could. Poverty informed his work ethic, his sense of right and wrong, and instilled in him core values from which he never deviated. When he gave his word, he kept his word, no matter what the circumstances were. He also expected the same from others. Nobody ever had to worry about Art telling a lie, and he didn’t take it well when he was lied to. Art was an incorruptible man of integrity.
Art was a very generous man, but he did not suffer fools gladly. He seldom let people take advantage of him, but when somebody did, they never got a second chance. It took a lot to earn his trust. Very few people got close to him. Those he trusted and cared about knew a wonderful, insightful, perceptive man who would do anything to make your life better for you. He never expected or desired anything in return. Whatever Art did came straight from the heart.
We talked several times a day. Sometimes, six times a day. Art possessed a gruff exterior that often overshadowed his marvelous sense of humor. He was a great humorist full of fascinating and funny stories. He was self educated to a higher degree than your average person. We never had a conversation where we didn’t learn from each other, and laugh about a lot of things. I told Art I have learned so much about so many things from him, and he responded, “I’ve learned a lot from you, too. That’s part of the fun of being friends.”
We mailed each other lots of tobacco, often rare blends. Art gifted me sixteen pipes, some of which were meerschaums. Once, he asked me what kind of meers I liked. I told him, and it turned out he had them. And sent them to me. He didn’t tell me he had them. I called him when I got the surprise package, and said, “You dirty sneak. That’s why you asked me about meers”. Art just laughed and laughed and laughed. He enjoyed surprising his friends. He enjoyed being a caretaker. He enjoyed being a friend. We were more than friends. We were family.
As a young man, he led a hard scrabble existence. Art grew up in a very poor family, and was working on the family farm as soon as he was old enough to handle a shovel. He learned how to hunt before he was ten years old to help feed his family. Art knew the value of hard work as much as any man could. Poverty informed his work ethic, his sense of right and wrong, and instilled in him core values from which he never deviated. When he gave his word, he kept his word, no matter what the circumstances were. He also expected the same from others. Nobody ever had to worry about Art telling a lie, and he didn’t take it well when he was lied to. Art was an incorruptible man of integrity.
Art was a very generous man, but he did not suffer fools gladly. He seldom let people take advantage of him, but when somebody did, they never got a second chance. It took a lot to earn his trust. Very few people got close to him. Those he trusted and cared about knew a wonderful, insightful, perceptive man who would do anything to make your life better for you. He never expected or desired anything in return. Whatever Art did came straight from the heart.
We talked several times a day. Sometimes, six times a day. Art possessed a gruff exterior that often overshadowed his marvelous sense of humor. He was a great humorist full of fascinating and funny stories. He was self educated to a higher degree than your average person. We never had a conversation where we didn’t learn from each other, and laugh about a lot of things. I told Art I have learned so much about so many things from him, and he responded, “I’ve learned a lot from you, too. That’s part of the fun of being friends.”
We mailed each other lots of tobacco, often rare blends. Art gifted me sixteen pipes, some of which were meerschaums. Once, he asked me what kind of meers I liked. I told him, and it turned out he had them. And sent them to me. He didn’t tell me he had them. I called him when I got the surprise package, and said, “You dirty sneak. That’s why you asked me about meers”. Art just laughed and laughed and laughed. He enjoyed surprising his friends. He enjoyed being a caretaker. He enjoyed being a friend. We were more than friends. We were family.
