My heart is in pieces as I contemplate the rest of my life without my little brother, Christopher Swartz. He had a huge heart, a wonderful smile, and was a loyal and true friend to many.
Christopher grew up the only boy among five girls and at times reveled in that special status. He was, when young, protected and babied by his two older sisters, and became protector and partner-in-crime when the younger ones arrived.
He was a born salesman, as evidenced by my summons to the Mother Superior’s office when he was in first grade. I was deputized to bring home a letter detailing his entrepreneurial skills. He had clipped several centerfolds from Playboy magazine, folded them carefully into his little pencil case, and sold them on the playground for a nickel. He was so proud of his efforts and so outraged that he had to refund all his profits. Later in life he channeled those skills into a successful sales career.
Christopher leaves Sylvia, his wife who nurtured his best instincts, and the light of his life, his daughter Mandee. He was a doting grandfather to Reagan.
Christopher loved nothing better than a fat cigar, a great steak, and a cutthroat poker game with old friends. They will miss him, as will we all.