The first author in the list of favorites in my Diaryland profile is John Coit.

Nobody else has listed him as a favorite. I'm not surprised, but it's your loss.

I first came across the writings of John Hamilton Coit on 15 September 1985. It was a Sunday, and as is normal for my September weekends, I was running a check station for antelope hunters.

Check station duty can be hectic and busy, but it is often interspersed with long periods of boredom. A newspaper helps to pass the time, and I had taken up the habit of buying the Sunday Rocky Mountain News out of Denver.

True, they had more and better comics than their rival, The Denver Post, but I picked this rag mainly because of its being printed journal style, like a large book.

Much easier to read in the cab of a pickup.

On this Sunday, after scanning all the normal Sunday favorites, I happened upon John's column. He wrote about his day of hopping a freight train from Denver to Salt Lake City.

Just for the experience.

He wrote so simply, so descriptively, you felt like you were along for the ride. His words rolled off the page like he was speaking them to you. Like you were his trusted friend, and this was something he wanted to share.

After that introduction, I looked for John's column every Sunday of the fall. And I occassionally bought a News during the winter, just to read Coit.

John never judged the people he met and wrote about. You could tell he felt their pain, their despair, their pride and their joy.

He was a Vietnam Vet, a twice divorced father, a smoker and a biker. In the photo that accompanied his column, along with his greying hair you could see eyes that carried a humorous twinkle.

But I found myself sitting in a pickup along the highway with tears leaking out of my eyes more than once after reading a Coit column.

If you like drinking Coca-Cola Classic, you owe that pleasure in no small amount to John Coit.

Seriously.

I see that my journal style follows John's. I like to think that is a coincidence, since I wrote letters home from college this way before I ever read Coit. But I know he has had an influence.

If only in letting me know it is okay to write as you feel.

John rediscovered happiness when he met Susan O'Malley, and they were married on New Year's Day 1986.

Eleven days later John died of a heart attack.

The Rocky Mountain News published a collection of his most popular columns that spring. Wife seemed surprised when I told her we had to order a copy.

I have read that book cover to cover several times now. Bouncing from sober reflection to uplifting humor, from tears of sorrow to tears of empathy. The paperback book sits on a shelf in the living room, the binding scraped nearly bare by being rubbed by the recliner.

I read it only sporadically now, except after Thanksgiving.

Sometime during every holiday season, I bring out John and read his three columns about The Great Claus.

I tend to become perturbed when I find someone filling their journal entries with someone else's song lyrics or poetry. I know I shouldn't, as these entries often tell you much about the diarist who selected them. But I usually skip them just the same.

If you feel the same way, you will want to skip my next three entries. These will be reprints of John Coit's three Great Claus columns.

These are copyrighted by the owners of the Rocky Mountain News. I know I am violating their copyrights here, but these three readings are something I want to share.

I need to share.

If you represent Denver Publishing Company or are one of John's heirs and are disturbed by this, let me know. I will remove them.