“It’s apocryphal, but it’s a good story,” Joe said, settling into a chair.

Ever the reporter, although now retired, Joe Kernan cautioned, “It could be true; it sounds like Buddy.”

As he has done since he stepped onto the Rhode Island stage, Buddy surprised us as much in death as he did in life last week. How could this happen? He was taping for his WLNE show, developed acute abdominal pains, was rushed to Miriam Hospital and then, suddenly, he is dead. He was that way. He didn’t leave you guessing where he was coming from. There always seemed to be a plan.

Joe’s story was an insight to the priorities of a much younger Buddy.

Evidently, late one night the fire alarm when off in Buddy’s residence. Awakened by the noise and the flashing of fire trucks that had arrived at the scene, Buddy opened the window and looked out. Buddy was in his BVDs and t-shirt but sans his trademark toupee.

One of the firefighters yelled they needed to get in to check the alarm and Buddy said he’d be right down. He kept his word. But the Buddy who opened the door was wearing his toupee…yet, still was in his BVDs.

Buddy had a talent for timing.

He was mayor when the late Stephen O’Connor, who chaired the Warwick Zoning Board of Review, asked me to serve on the Talbot House Board of directors. Steve had beaten the demons of alcoholism and led the organization that provided recovery services to those fighting substance abuse. Buddy had done a lot to help the organization, and Steve thought it appropriate that we honor the mayor at the gala annual fundraiser at Rhodes on the Pawtuxet.

But it wasn’t that simple. At the time Buddy had been indicted on a number of charges, including kidnapping, attempted extortion and conspiracy. Buddy maintained his innocence and his office (he resigned about two years later.) He had his faithful followers, but the situation empowered his enemies.

Board members argued it would be best to let the dust settle and let the police investigation play out rather than risk the organization’s reputation by paying tribute to a possible felon. Steve stood his ground.

He argued, regardless the outcome, Talbot wouldn’t be where it was if it hadn’t been for Buddy, and we needed to recognize that.

The invitations with Buddy’s picture went out and the flak started to fly. Some previously faithful donors returned their invitations with statements they would no longer be supporting Talbot. The board was committed: changing plans and stripping Buddy of the recognition would have been a terrible mistake. We moved ahead with the dinner.

Rhodes wasn’t as full as at prior galas, but attendance wasn’t an embarrassment. Steve was pleased. It looked like he’d smoothed things over and people accepted we were honoring the Buddy everyone loved, not the one we were starting to learn about. We imagined Buddy would be thrilled to have such staunch supporters in his corner.

Over drinks, the buzz was about Buddy and the photo that surely was going to run in the society section of the Sunday Journal. TV camera crews and reporters were at the ballroom entrance ready to collar the mayor and get his take on the swirling story. I thought for sure that Steve would be in the glare of the lights defending the board’s decision to honor Buddy.

We waited and waited, and finally it was apparent dinner couldn’t be delayed any longer.

Dinner was served, but the setting next to Steve remained vacant. Plates were cleared and waiters and waitresses started circulating with coffee. TV crews packed up and left. Buddy wasn’t there and there was no life to the party. Steve went to the podium. He was going ahead as planned.

I don’t remember how he explained Buddy’s absence, because at that very instant a wave of chatter started and rippled across the room. There was Buddy smiling ear to ear, shaking hands, giving hugs to the older women, looking people directly in the eye and never at a loss for a name. In an instant the mood had changed. People stood to get a look at Buddy. They were calling and waving. With a shake of his hand he acknowledged their adulation. Steve never read what he had planned to say. Buddy had the microphone. He talked about the important work Talbot was doing for the city of Providence.

Steve was beaming. He hadn’t taken the prudent course, but he had done the right thing.

In the years to follow, I covered some of the Buddy stories and had the opportunity to talk with him on numerous occasions. He interviewed me on his show prior to his last run for mayor about community efforts to preserve Rocky Point Park and Warwick’s reaction to airport expansion. He was good at it. He had found his niche, although clearly his first love was politics.

It is hard to imagine Rhode Island without him. He left the stage so quickly that the spotlight still shines. And as we share our Buddy stories, what shines brightest is what he’s done for Providence. That can’t be extinguished.