
Roger never married and has no children. Life works better for him that way.
When people talk about children, they often talk about their legacy. But this isn’t true. It may be well-intentioned, but it’s inaccurate.
A Forbes article notes:
Your children may inherit your legacy, they may receive the responsibility of carrying your legacy forward, but they are not your legacy. Your children may very well be your highest priority, the center of your universe, and perhaps you feel that everything you do is for them. Still, your children are not your legacy. Even if you are a full-time parent and caregiver, your children are still not your legacy. You are your legacy, and the life you live, by choice or by happenstance, is the legacy you will ultimately leave behind.
Roger just began university life when his father passed away unexpectedly. Any dreams of college parties and carefree study were replaced with side jobs to help support his mother and sisters.
There would be no pity party. No complaints or shirking of responsibility.
Because that’s not who Roger is.
Roger juggled work and university life. He sent money to his mother and sisters. He sacrificed, worked hard, and earned an undergraduate and master’s degree.
He did the right thing, early in life, when many of us might stumble in the stupor of loss, immaturity, or selfishness.
Roger’s character is his legacy.
Roger has two passions: breweries and sports.
He’s been to countless ballparks and football stadiums around the country, and well over 1,000 breweries. When away from home, breweries are Roger’s living room.
He likes the magic of breweries, not to mention dark beer.
Much like pubs (short for public houses) in the United Kingdom, American breweries are places of music, companionship, conviviality, comfort food, and relaxation. There is often lively talk of sports and politics, and everything in between.

Photo by John P. Weiss
The worst people in breweries are there to get drunk and maybe cause trouble. The best people in breweries elevate the experience for everyone, through active listening and friendly, engaged conversation.
The latter describes Roger.
If you’re lucky enough to grab a barstool next to him, be patient. He’s reserved, but if you engage, there is a reservoir of life experience and wisdom as your reward.
I suspect Roger, with his pleasant disposition, sports knowledge, open mind, and sagacity, has inspired many over the years in breweries and elsewhere.
I know he has inspired me, even though our story didn’t begin in a brewery.
Roger used to be my boss.
I was a resident assistant in the dorms at my university, and Roger was the Residential Life Coordinator. He became my friend and often hosted Friday night get-togethers at his apartment. We watched Miami Vice on television.
Beer was often involved on those Friday nights, but Roger was always a measured and responsible drinker. A good role model for young college students. He could have fun but always kept it together.
After my year serving as a resident assistant, Roger had the difficult task of telling me they would not renew my contract.
In his soft-spoken, gentle, direct manner, he told me the news and the reason behind it. And the reason was that my heart wasn’t in it. I had become burned out with the job.
Resident assistants receive free room and board in the dorms for their work, and I worried that my father would be disappointed.
Fortunately, Dad told me not to worry and to focus on my senior year and graduating. In hindsight, Roger did me a huge favor. I became a cartoonist for the campus newspaper in my senior year and doubled down on my academic performance, graduating with honors.
Roger knew me better than I knew myself.
There are people who come into your life and shape you for the better.
Sometimes they are friends, coaches, teachers, mentors, or even bosses. You never know who they’ll be, and sometimes, it takes years before you fully appreciate what they did for you.
Roger and I kept in touch over the years, despite living in different states. Recently, out of the blue, he contacted me.
“John, I’m coming to Las Vegas. I have two tickets to the UNLV vs Fresno football game. Want to go?”
“Absolutely,” I told Roger.
He flew into town, I picked him up at the airport, and he stayed two days with my wife and me. He hoped to visit a few new breweries in town, and I drove him to several.
It felt like the old days.
I watched as Roger easily made conversation with brewery servers and customers. Soft-spoken, avuncular, and looking a little like Saint Nick, Roger is comfortable to be around. Especially in a brewery, where he fits right in.

Photo by John P. Weiss
He caught me up on his life, work, travels, health challenges, losses, and recent retirement. He mentioned volunteering as an elections official.
I told him how much I appreciated his friendship, guidance, and mentoring when I was a university student. He smiled and ordered another round.
There have been romances in Roger’s life, but marriage and children never suited him.
When not enjoying sports events, Roger is the brewery saint. That rare soul who is always ready to listen, converse and share wisdom. A brewery regular who brings warmth and character to the place.
But then, as stated above, Roger’s character is his legacy.
Roger’s short visit was a pleasure. A chance for me to finally honor and thank the man who helped shape me.
If there is a special teacher, mentor, or person who helped shape you, don’t wait to thank them. Send a letter of thanks. Make a phone call. Or even better, go visit them.
And if you do, take them to a brewery. You might just spot a cheerful fellow at the bar, sipping a stout. Pull up a chair, and introduce yourself.
Let the brewery saint work his magic.
Before you go

I’m John P. Weiss. I write elegant stories and essays about life, shoot black & white photos, and draw cartoons. To follow along, check out my free Saturday Letters.
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This post was previously published on Medium.com.
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Photo credit: John P. Weiss




