I did not know Eric York well, nor did I know Terry Gurno well, or Norman "Stickman" Oss. But I had the good fortune to talk with them, photograph them, write about them. 

They left their marks.

The last time I spoke to Terry earlier this year, it was for a story about his nonprofit, "Unyielding Hope," through which he wanted to inspire, coach and mentor others trying to overcome their own obstacles. If someone couldn't afford to pay, there was no charge.

"I just feel like hope should be free," he said. 

Terry had overcome his own challenges. He told me he grew up in an alcoholic and abusive home, wrestling with self-doubt and learning challenges that left him feeling inadequate. He said a mentor helped him discover possibility where he once saw only limitation. He wanted to do the same for others.

He later served as a pastor at New Life Community Church, stepping into the senior pastor role after the death of Bruce Miles a little more than 25 years ago. 

He struck me as a man of hope and even as he battled stage 4 colon cancer, he kept his faith to the end, passing away Oct. 3 at the age of 65.

Mike Rima, former pastor of Lake City Church, colleague and a friend to Gurno, described him as “one of the most positive individuals I’ve ever met,” someone whose outlook on life is “genuine and hope-filled.”

Eric York, I saw often on my morning runs through the Sanders Beach neighborhood we shared. He was often out working around the yard or walking his beloved dogs. He volunteered to clean the dog park at Tubbs Hill. Much like his partner, Diana, he was always joyful, with a big smile and always greeted me happily, "Hey Bill!" 

I would stop so we could chat. I took his picture when he was out shoveling snow this last winter. He was grinning as he tossed a shovelful of snow my direction. The last time I saw him, he shared an idea with me for a story about some debris he thought posed a danger at Tubbs Hill. I told him I would look into it. I remember that day another dog walker came along and Eric greeted her like an old friend, though they had never met. That's the kind of man he was.

Eric died Aug. 31 at his home at the age of 66.

Norman Oss was known locally as "Stickman." He often sat in front of his home near Tubbs Hill, carving beautiful walking sticks, which he gave away. He was the subject of feature stories in The Press and the Spokesman-Review.

I interviewed and photographed him at Veterans Day ceremonies at McEuen Park’s Veterans Memorial in 2022 and again in 2024.

He was a veteran and served with the Army in 1967 and 1968 as a tank driver in the Vietnam War. He was 18 years old, turning 19 in Vietnam.

“That was a long time ago,” he told me. “I was just a young kid back then. We lost a lot of guys over there. Young men. Young boys.”

When he came home, there was no parade. No cheers.

“The country didn’t accept us, didn’t want us, pissed on us, basically,” he said in 2022. "Nobody wanted the soldiers around.”

But he didn't hold a grudge. Whenever we chatted, he spoke kindly of people and offered a smile and story. I remember the Veterans Day in 2024 was cold and rainy, but he was there, walking stick in hand.

"I was going to come out no matter what, rain, shine or whatever,” he said. 

Oss died Oct. 24 at age 79.

I tell you about these men because they shared something in common: They saw the good in people. They lived well. They left me feeling blessed for having known them. 

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Bill Buley is managing editor of The Press. he can be reached at [email protected].