If Mark Twain had set The Adventures of Tom Sawyer in the Skagit Valley, I’m pretty sure he would have cast Gregg Collins as its hero. If the tales we’ve heard of his youth are true (and we’re sure they are), Gregg was born with a penchant for mischief — and it was clear to anyone who knew him that this facet of his personality shone throughout his life. It was no small part of his charm, no matter how much he might rile you from time to time — which is, I suppose, why I thought of Gregg as a brother. We all did at Meyer Sign.

On Monday, September 6, we lost our brother. We share in the grief of his family, but in the midst of that grief we want to celebrate his life while our memories are at their most poignant. And Gregg’s life was worthy of celebration. His family will share their own stories of him as a husband, father, son, and brother. We offer ours as his extended work family — a relationship that goes back more than 20 years.

I asked Meyer Sign’s former owners, Martin and Tonnie Boer, about the circumstances of Gregg’s adoption into the Meyer Sign family. The story they told me was touching, but not at all surprising to those of us who knew the man. It reveals a person who was equal parts pluck, earnestness, optimism, innocence, and joy. You didn’t need to be around Gregg Collins for more than a few minutes to pick up on what he radiated — and we at Meyer Sign pretty much knew that from the moment he introduced himself.

Gregg got hired at Meyer Sign the old school way: he showed up and asked for the job. He was in his early twenties and was already employed by another, albeit smaller, sign shop. I’m not aware of Gregg’s motivation at the time, but being young and ambitious it’s likely that he just wanted to run with the big dogs.

As Martin recalls, “I heard from Ken (current Meyer Sign owner, Ken Hitt) that there was this young salesman who was exploring the possibility of working for a larger sign company, after having been at a smaller one for maybe a year or two at the most. I said, ‘Well, let’s check him out.’ He was young, he was very inexperienced, and I think I met with him twice — but I immediately recognized that he was enthusiastic. He was willing to say what he was thinking. We vetted him pretty thoroughly and I thought, ‘Why not give him a try?’” It was a pivotal decision in the history of Meyer Sign.

What Ken remembers thinking at the time was, “Why did Martin hire a high schooler to do sales? Gregg always looked younger than he was. But I realized really quickly, ‘This guy is amazing…he’s got it.’ And I knew in a day or two that we were going to click as co-workers — and that we would be good friends.”

While it might seem counterintuitive, Martin credits Gregg’s “inexperience” as part of the reason for his success at Meyer Sign. “Being young, he was receptive to the values we tried to instill in our company, such as looking at a sale from the perspective of a customer’s needs rather than as just a transaction.” As it turns out, however, these values were already a part of Gregg’s DNA, as Martin also recalls. “He had an ability to really connect with people beyond just ‘sales’ — it became a lot more personal, and he really cared about what was best in any situation. He never tried to oversell anything, and he always wanted to continue that relationship. He had a lot of customers who regularly came back. Gregg was never afraid to engage anyone under any circumstance, which worked out well in the sign business because there are always going to be customers who are reluctant or unsure about what they need — and Gregg just embraced those situations. He relished the challenges.”

Both Ken and Martin had some brilliant stories to share about Gregg — mostly about the pranks they all played on one another. There was the time, early in Gregg’s Meyer Sign career, when Ken convinced Gregg that Martin would find it amusing if Gregg were to “flip him off” when he passed Martin’s office (the door to which always remained open unless matters of privacy dictated otherwise). Within minutes, Gregg received an intercom summons into Martin’s office, upon which the door was notably closed while a tongue lashing about respect and appropriate behavior was delivered to a chastened young man — only to have it revealed that Martin had been in on the joke to begin with.

And then there was the time when Martin left the office earlier than usual one afternoon. Seizing a “when the cat’s away” opportunity, Gregg left early as well to get in a round of golf at Eaglemont. Checking in at the pro shop, he learned that he could join a threesome if he could catch up in time. Driving his golf cart toward the group preparing to tee off, Gregg discovered that it was none other than Martin and a couple of his friends. “I’ve never seen anyone slam a golf cart into reverse that quickly,” Martin recalls. “He came over with his tail between his legs, and we just laughed and had him join us. He always handled any situation with humor and good sense.”

As the years passed, Gregg’s value to Meyer Sign only increased. “Gregg was well spoken and passionate about his beliefs,” Martin told me. “This worked well for Meyer Sign because we needed that candor to move forward as a company. His honesty helped us address ways to make Meyer Sign better. We watched him blossom and thoroughly embrace his role at the company, and he was an integral part of our processes, from design to scheduling, manufacturing, and installation.”

The growth that Toni and Martin witnessed in the “wet behind the ears” youngster that Meyer Sign took a chance on extended beyond his role at the company. “We watched him grow up and do the things that made him become the man that he was,” says Martin. “He met and courted his wife, Kati, during his time with us. He loved Kati with a passion, and what struck Tonnie and me was that Gregg embraced Kati’s son Kain as his own. It was such a beautiful thing. And then they had their own child, Kadyn — and as this young lady grew into a teenager, Gregg played such a huge role in her life. He was totally committed — as a husband, as a father, as a friend, and as an employee. In his 46 years he lived his life to the fullest — more, I think, than most people.”

This was the Gregg Collins I was privileged to get to know when I first started working with Meyer Sign. I’ve met lot of people in my life, but there aren’t many of whom I can honestly say I vividly recall my first encounter. Gregg Collins was an exception. I had wanted to get a better understanding of how the sign company sales process worked, so I invited Gregg to meet at a local coffee shop and talk about his job. I was immediately struck by his warmth, his genuineness, his humor…and most especially, his devotion to Meyer Sign and his work family.

When I recalled this meeting with Ken the other day, it was clear that my first impressions of Gregg were true to who the man was, regardless of whether your acquaintance with him went back twenty minutes or twenty years. “I think that authenticity was Gregg’s ‘secret sauce’ — not just as a salesman, but as a person,” Ken says. “It was the aura around him, and everyone who has met Gregg has felt that. You knew immediately that he’s a good guy, and he’s fun to be around.”

From my personal experience with Gregg, I can vouch for another ingredient in that “secret sauce.” It was love. Love permeated everything Gregg approached: family, customers, Lake Chelan and his RC boat racing club — even his lawn and landscaping, as Ken, who lived just down the street from Gregg, will attest.

I was on the receiving end of that love in many ways. Gregg was a huge fan of my writing — and there are few things more dear to the heart of a writer than an appreciative reader. I was blessed in that with Gregg, and I was blessed by his friendship, his kindness and his generosity of heart. There was a time when I told Gregg that he gave me more credit than I deserved for Meyer Sign’s success — but I realized that what seemed like self-effacing humility on my part was an insult to the gift that was being bestowed by a person who wouldn’t stoop to cheap sentiment just for the sake of making you feel good. I never said anything more than “thank you” after that.

A few days ago, Meyer Sign published an acknowledgement of Gregg’s passing on our Facebook page, along with the link to a story I wrote about the Manson Marina RC Boat Racing Club — Gregg’s band of toy boat brothers. The story had nothing whatsoever to do with sign making — it was simply the celebration of how wonderfully people can get along, whatever their differences, when they take the time to play together. But even in that statement there was a lot you could learn about Gregg Collins if you didn’t know it already.

The responses from that Facebook post, not surprisingly, have been heart warming. In addition to the outpouring of love and support for Gregg and his family there have been some touching reminiscences about him that are well worth reading — and believe me, I’ve read every single one of them. One Facebook “comment” that stands out for me as part of Meyer Sign was from his brother Scott, who in the space of a single paragraph managed to pay eloquent tribute to both his brother and the people he worked with and loved:

“Being his brother for 42 years was an absolute blessing! Gregg could always make us laugh and brought so much joy to our family, his friends and his work. He loved working for Meyer Sign. He never one time complained about his job and was forever grateful for being a part of a great local business and company. Meyer Sign was an extension of Gregg’s family. The best thing I can say about his job is it let his personality shine in the greatest possible way. It also allowed him the flexibility to never lose the “kid” in him. He got to have the best of both worlds! Thank you for always taking care of my brother.”

I don’t think I need to explain how much Scott’s words mean to us.

I’d like to end this eulogy with one last anecdote about Gregg from Ken Hitt — and I’ll use same the words he spoke during our recent conversation.

“Gregg was working on a project that was just not in his wheelhouse. I don’t remember exactly what it was, but I remember the outcome — and it didn’t go well. Mike Anderson and I rode him like a new pony. Gregg took it well and would occasionally jab back, but we ended up making a sign that we put above his door that reads “Stay in Your Lane.”

Gregg Collins seldom strayed from his lane after that, but the lane he ran in was uniquely and authentically his own. His lane was kindness, generosity, and love, and we’re grateful he stayed in it all the years that we knew him. He could run laps around the rest of us.

Ken’s parting remarks when I finished my phone call with him sum up what all of us at Meyer Sign feel about Gregg Collins. “I’m going to miss him walking in here in the morning. It immediately lightened the mood in the whole room, and the work was just more fun. You can’t put it into words unless you lived it — and I’m lucky enough to have lived it. I enjoyed every minute I got to spend with him.”

So did we all, Ken. Thanks, Gregg.