Chef Frizzie preparing his famous dinner rolls.

Chef Frizzie preparing his famous dinner rolls.

Yesterday was probably the hardest day of my life. Even harder than the day my father died this May, if that is possible. My father, and those who love him, knew he was approaching his end of days. Although he died quite suddenly, it was an inevitability. But nothing had prepared Mary or I for what we learned yesterday afternoon.

At about 4:00 PM, a Vermont State Trooper arrived at the front door of the Birch Ridge Inn. He had been asked to come to the inn by the wife of our chef. Earlier that afternoon, when she returned from work, she had found her husband, our dear friend, and dedicated employee, dead at home.

Chef Stephen Byrne joined the Birch Ridge Inn family in mid November 9 years ago. Virtually every day, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Chef Frizzie came to the inn. He quickly became an integral part of our lives. Most people know Chef Frizzie for his skills in the kitchen. We know Chef Frizzie as a great chef. But we also know him as a father who was so proud of his children, a devoted husband, a lumberjack, a finish carpenter, a hunter, a crazy skier, a solitary hiker with his dog in the woods, a snow plow driver, the ultimate staff taxi/rescuer, and most of all, a great friend.

The last time we saw Frizz was around 2 when he stepped out of the inn for his afternoon break.

I was planning to write today about the Christmas holidays...about the great menu Chef Frizzie was preparing to share with our guests. I wanted to tell you that even though it was raining outside, and rain is a horrible thing at a ski resort during Christmas week, that it would be ok because the sun is forecasted to come out on Christmas Day. I wanted to write about the happiness of the holidays and the anticipation of the New Year.

But I can't.

Stephen Byrne... Frizzie, may you rest in peace.