When late Chet Fitch friends received Christmas cards this Christmas, written in his hand with a return address Heaven they all had a greatest laugh. Even in death he sure is one funny guy.

The greeting read: “I asked Big Guy if I could sneak back and send some cards. At first he said no; but at my insistence he finally said, ‘Oh well, what the heaven, go ahead but don’t (tarry) there.’ Wish I could tell you about things here but words cannot explain.”

“Better get back as Big Guy said he stretched a point to let me in the first time, so I had better not press my luck. I’ll probably be seeing you (some sooner than you think). Wishing you a very Merry Christmas. Chet Fitch”

A friend for nearly 25 years, Debbie Hansen Bernard said, “All I could think was, You little stinker.”

“It was amazing,” she said. “Just so Chet, always wanting to get the last laugh.”

Cards were of course a big joke he planned for two decades with his barber, Patty Dean, 57. In her own words he kept updating the mailing list and giving her extra money when postal rates went up.

“This fall,” she said, “Fitch looked up to me from the chair, and said: You must be getting tired of waiting to mail those cards. I think you’ll probably be able to mail them this year.”

He died a week later.

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