This is from a couple of articles this week about these 2 guys helping each other get through old age...


by Marianne Costantinou

In the good ol' days, the two geezers used to jostle each other on the balcony, gripping their binoculars for dear life, so they could ogle the topless sunbather on a nearby rooftop.

Other times, in their matching khakis and sensible shoes, the buddies would meander slow and steady down the street for their weekly splurge, breakfast at Denny's. Or they'd sit around each other's apartments and catch the ballgame on TV, or just plain pass the time talking about this and that, it didn't matter what.

That's what best friends do, everything together even if it's nothing at all. And Howard Hunter and Walter Jednak were best-best friends. Still are, till death do them part.
Walter got tubes helping him breathe and eat and pee. Tubes, his buddy Howard jokes with him, coming in and out of places he didn't know he had. Howard, 73, has had to give his permission to doctors for each of those tubes. He has medical guardianship and power of attorney for Walter, and vice- versa. Walter has no living relatives, and Howard's small family, a son and two grandchildren, live hours away, in Bakersfield. The men's friends have all passed away. For all practical purposes, Walter and Howard have only each other.

When their last mutual friend died a year or two ago, Howard and Walter made a pact to take care of each other. Every morning, one of them calls the other to make sure he's still alive. They became beneficiaries in each other's modest wills, assigned each other the responsibility to make medical decisions on the other's behalf, and even made matching funeral arrangements. They each plan to be cremated, with a burial out at sea -- with the help of the nearest flush, Howard adds. A special box required by law to take the ashes out of the crematorium cost an extra $200 each, and neither man could afford it.

Even as Walter lay dying, his friend Howard chatted about all his big plans for when Walter got out of the hospital, things the men had long talked about but, as often happens even in a long life, had somehow not gotten around to doing. There always seemed to be enough time. Time for an outing to the beach. Time to take the ferry to Sausalito and, their cholesterol be damned, grab a greasy burger on the main street there. Time for so many things.

Time ran out. Walter Jednak, 85, died Tuesday night at San Francisco VA Medical Center. He was a decorated World War II Army veteran, retired salesman and bartender, gentleman bachelor, only child, and best friend to Howard Hunter.

Howard, 73, says Walter died of pneumonia and other complications from suffering two strokes this month.

How would Howard describe his friend and neighbor of 10 years?
Walter was, he says, "a really nice guy.''

Being old and without much money, the two pals didn't get out much. Their other mutual friends had passed away. Howard's son and two grandchildren lived hours away. Walter had no living relatives -- though he once lied and said he had a brother and sister, so a stranger wouldn't feel sorry for him. Their big outing each week was their Friday morning breakfast at the Denny's a few blocks from their apartment building South of Market.

Though they didn't know many people, many people knew them. Howard had thrown a surprise birthday party for Walter when he turned 85 in March. The invited guests were the waitresses, cooks and busboys at Denny's. The Chronicle crashed the party.

Readers touched by the story of the men's friendship sent a ton of e- mails. Several wrote back months later, wondering how the men were doing. They got their answer on Tuesday, in a story about Walter's illness and Howard's daily visits to him in the hospital.

Again, readers responded, offering to help with donations of money for funeral arrangements, cab rides to the hospital, cookies, flowers and cards. Several mentioned that the men reminded them of their parents or of their friends and neighbors. Many mentioned that they hoped they'd have a Howard or Walter in their lives when their time came.

Howard had given the OK to doctors for his friend to get feeding and breathing tubes, and an oxygen mask. But when he arrived at the hospital Tuesday morning, eager to share the story of the men in that day's Chronicle, he says he found Walter almost comatose. Doctors told him that Walter didn't have much chance to live. Howard told them to take out the tubes and let Walter go.

Walter didn't get to hear Howard read him the story in the paper. But that wasn't important. He had heard plenty his last few weeks.

Howard often hid his affection behind a joke, but now he stopped hiding. He sang to Walter when he called in the morning and in the afternoon, serenading him with old ditties like "Sunny Side of the Street.'' He clipped Walter's fingernails, held his hand and stroked his leg. ("Hey Walter, is that your knee or is that Viagra?"). And they said aloud what had long been understood:
"Love you, Walter."
"I love you."

Howard kidded that the ashes would go off to sea -- with help of a flush. But now, with donations -- and pleas -- from readers, Howard thinks he will take Walter and scatter the ashes himself. Maybe he'll take Walter on that long-promised boat ride to Sausalito, spreading the ashes in the bay. Or, he might, just might, stand on the balcony of his apartment and scatter them from there. The two old pals had spent many a happy afternoon on that balcony, binoculars glued to their eyeglasses, ogling a topless sunbather a rooftop away.

"Why not?'' Howard says, delighted at the notion of tossing Walter from one of their favorite hangouts onto the seedy block. "Everything else is scattered on Sixth Street.

"Walter would get a kick out of that.''

Yes, very touching!

What's great is that neither is gay or anything like that. But they were very smart in doing what they did

superspaceboy said:

For Walter and Howard...



Sausalito, 2004

superspaceboy said:

Now THAT's what I call true friendship.

Oh my God...


Here's to you, the Harolds and Walters of the world:

psychodelicide said:

Exactly. This story was published on Tues...but he passed so an update was done. It's sad but I wish I could read more stories like this on a daily basis...these types of stories get buried under Laci Peterson and Paris and Britney. If media would focus/show this type of story or stories of people truly making a difference, the world would be a better place.

superspaceboy said:

Agreed.