In Memory

Keith Winch VIEW PROFILE

Keith Winch

Keith "Pops" Winch, 70, of Port Orange, Florida, passed while being surrounded by his family on March 5, 2017. He was born July 7, 1946, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to the late Keith Winch, Sr. and Dorothy (Fischer). For over twenty years, Keith owned the Dairy Bar, "Home of the Best Chili Dog in Town". Whether Keith was fishing in the Keys, playing golf at the local par-3 course or cheering for his favorite football team, the Pittsburgh Steelers, he shared these times with family and cherished every minute. Keith is survived by his loving wife, Judi, of 46 years; son, Scott (Valerie); son, Craig; daughter, Cori Barnes (Kurt); daughter, Laci Verduzco (David); brother, Jim (Renee); brother, Kevin; grandchildren, Tyler, Kingsley, Huxley, and Mason, and many other relatives and friends. Keith was an amazing father, husband, grandfather, and friend and will be forever remembered. During his life, Keith carried this poem, and on behalf of his beloved family, we can be assured that Pops will definitely be a trophy catch! I pray that I may
live to fish
until my dying day.
And when it comes
to my last cast,
I then most humbly pray.
When in the Lord's
great landing net
and peacefully asleep
That in his mercy
I be judged
Big enough to Keep.

 

A Celebration of Life service will be held at 2:00 p.m. on Saturday, March 11, 2017, at the First United Methodist Church of Port Orange. In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made in memory of Keith to Food Brings Hope; www.FoodBringsHope.org or to First United Methodist Church/Youth Ministries. - See more at: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/news-journalonline/obituary.aspx?pid=184400715#sthash.cmxK7mFP.dpuf



 
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03/28/17 08:28 PM #9    

Debbie Solow

I didn't know Keith well, but I did know his smile and can see it now as I right. I'm sorry for those who loved him or called him their friend.


03/28/17 09:24 PM #10    

Guy Dent

I had the very good fortune to know Keith and his wonderful family, since we were 5 years old. We both attended the former 6th United Presbyterian Church at Shady & Northumberland avenues. Keith and I hit it off right away. I was the shrimp and he was already a big guy. Our families remained close through grade school, high school and college. "Big Keith" and Dottie were wonderful people, who instilled, in their three boys, hard work, honesty, humility and an unbelieveable level of competiveness. Watching Keith, up close, through little league and ball yard games revealed a tremendous drive to compete and win. As a team player, that faced every at-bat, block, tackle or pass reception, as a game breaker, it was a Sports Illustrated moment for someone  like me, who couldn't compete until college.  I had a ringside seat to see Tom Beckett,  Larry Lucchino, Barry Lischner, Sandy Neiman, Marvin Schreiber, Keith and many others compete at a level that was awesome !! I would be remiss not to mention the remarkable ability coaches Giovane and McNertney had to bring that drive out in all of their "boys".

Keith wanted to end the game on every swing, or touchdown catch. His fierce competitive drive obviously carried forward to his desire to provide a wonderful life for his wife and children and the rest of his family, since they all ended up in Florida with him. It is sad to think of his passing, but rewarding to know that the humble, quiet Keith had lived a wonderful, fulfilling life and passed peacefully from this world.

Our deepest and most sincere condolences to his family and friends.

Guy & Sallie

P.S. to Rick S. - the real fight took place out on the well-oiled field at TAHS. I was there as Keith's corner man, while we missed some of Pepes' indoor baseball practice. We both caught hell from coach. However , Keith landed a series of blows, that I am sure "Big Keith" taught him as a youngster, that knocked Allan Sidlow down and out for the count !!! I'm pretty sure the beef was over one of our cheerleaders, Sharon Cirota.


03/30/17 04:31 PM #11    

Richard Slone

And one other thing . . .

From time to time Lischner would find himself on I 95 near Daytona going to or coming from an ashram. You read that right, Barry Lischner, an ashram. Somewhere up near Jacksonville where for years and years he’d go to meditate. Still does.

This is important to the story because it’s emblematic of Barry’s transformation from the kid who grew up in the Hazelwood projects, who found himself in gang fights with the blacks who lived in his neighborhood, I’m talking serious fights, with table legs and bicycle chains, broken bottles, Barry, who was known to drop the N word, whom I once heard yell from underneath a pile of Westinghouse players, “Get off me you black bastard.” That Barry. Keith, too, at that time himself was not wholly unsympathetic to Barry’s point of view regarding race, and all this while some of us were marching for SNCC and CORE, living in our insulated middle class ‘hood where the only blacks we saw were the women waiting for the Homewood bus after a day cleaning our houses.

Oh, yeah, and Milt Ashford.

After college Barry taught and coached in an all-black high school in Miami. He did for decades. Kind of a karmic joke, right? It didn’t take long for Barry to turn around. The kids turned him around. He became so well-liked he’d be invited to his ex-students’ weddings, to family gatherings, was even godfather to a couple of his ex-students’ kids.

Things change, sometimes in ways we’d never predict and sometimes, a bigger surprise, for the better.

During these years, driving on I 95 going to or from the ashram, Barry would call Keith from the road and if Keith were home, Barry would stop to visit. On this particular occasion Keith was waiting for Barry in his driveway. They chatted there awhile and as Barry told me the story, he was wondering why Keith did not invite him into the house like he usually did.

Ten or fifteen minutes pass, they’re still in the driveway, still chatting, when one of Keith’s sons, in his twenties then, walks out with a baby in his arms. Not just a baby. A black baby. An Afro American baby.

Now Barry puts it together. Keith, he figures, isn’t sure how his old friend is going to view this new addition to the family, his grandson, and given what Keith probably remembered of Barry from high school, his racism, no other word for it, “Get off of me you black bastard,” he was reluctant to bring Barry into the house where he’d surely see the kid. That plus somehow Keith hadn’t been privy to Barry’s metamorphosis were the reasons they were in the driveway. Keith wanted to avoid what he imagined what might have been an awkward situation. Until Keith’s son forced the issue. Anyway, that is how Barry interpreted it.

Keith’s son is holding his kid up for Barry to see and Keith is looking at Barry wondering what his reaction will be. They’ve been friends forever. Keith not only likes Barry, he respects him, he values his good opinion.

The son holds the kid out and Barry takes the kid in his arms. “What a beautiful baby!” Barry says. He doesn't have to think about it. The words come spontaneously. He means it. It is a beautiful baby.

Later, inside, Keith holding his grandson now, just Keith, Barry and the baby, the rest of the family off doing something else in another part of the house, Keith confesses, teary almost, or that detail could just be something I added to the picture, of the many adjectives you could use to describe Keith, “sentimental” wouldn’t be among the first fifty, Keith says to Barry, says it from the deepest part of his heart, “This baby is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Things change, sometimes in ways we’d never predict and sometimes for the better.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


03/31/17 07:15 AM #12    

Joseph Sack

Rick, what a great story and so well told.

I wish I had known Keith better.  Must have been a great guy.  My condolences to all he left behind.  Joe Sack


03/31/17 12:08 PM #13    

Elizabeth Stein (Name Change: Abigail Weissman)

I too thank you, Rick, for the heartwarming story. You are such a great and entertaining writer. Please would you send me the name of the book you wrote? Something about brown shoes??  I'd like to read it. Many thanks. 


03/31/17 06:03 PM #14    

Marvin Chosky

I too want to thank Richard. What a different ara we lived in. Milt Asford was the one and only; used to play ball with him at Davis field.

I wasn't a friend of Keith but remember having some classes with him and watching him play sports.

RIP Keith

The sad part of getting old is that besides losing freinds, we lose unique memories. We all have unique memories that we share with only one or a few friends. I have memories that only Ray and I shared, or me and my sister. Getting old is a bitch.


03/31/17 07:54 PM #15    

Michael Brourman

   I would add my thanks to Rick/Richard/Ricky for that story. (Since the story went from our HS days all the way to the present, with a stop in between, I thought I could use all three first names we have known him by during those periods.)


03/31/17 09:29 PM #16    

Joel Wingard

Rick Slone -- That is a wonderful comment you posted about Keith and Barry L.  I recall that you and I said hello at the 40th reunion of TAHS Class of '64, and you told me about Lischners's change of heart and mind. In high school myself, I didn't ask too many questions.  So I didn't appreciate the depth of Lischner's racial hatred.  It was, whatever.  I didn't feel that way; he did.  Whatever.  But your wiriting in tribute to Keith has at once educated and amazed me -- for the story itself but also for your insight.  This isn't about either of those guys, but I wish you and I had had a chance to talk in 2014. I was on higher ground then myself than I had been even ten years earlier.  All the same, I'm pround to call you classmate and friend (or at least serious acquaintance --- weren't we in home room together?)

 


04/01/17 10:04 PM #17    

Robert Fischer

I met Keith in the 8th grade. At Sterrett. Have not seen him since highschool. He was a nice guy .Sorry to here of his passing. Someday we will meet again.


05/02/17 11:02 PM #18    

Emelie Berlin (Schwab)

Thank You, Rick, too!  I remember Keitha and his wonderful smile.  So sorry for "way too soon" loss.  May he rest in peace and his memory be a blessing for all his family.


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