Ken Furlano

What do you do when you get the call that one of your best friends has passed? This was a tough one. The memories are beyond comprehension, in more than one way. Our friend, Kenny, passed last night. For many of you, he was your first grade buddy, for me, he was my first double date buddy, to be exact on June 1, 1963. Kane at the wheel in his white Pontiac, Kenny and his gal in the back. It was a long way to Disneyland, so Kenny and gal had lots of time to get it on. As Kane would use his rearview mirror to see the action, I was clueless. That was the night that I met Kenny, not the typical Catholic jock, but a Greaser Boy. He broke the mold & played it out. As years passed, Kenny proved that he was one of the most loyal, loving, friends ever. Never a bad word said about anyone. Never a hint of suspicion that who he met, or picked up, or befriended, may have baggage. We met Kenny’s “characters,” many of whom became lifelong friends. And the memories…I had the pleasure to drive with him in his “dumped or dago” Ford, whichever it was, down to pick up Kane from the Newport jail. But never to forget, along the way, we enjoyed to tunes vibrating off of his homemade turntable (literally, a record player), below the front dash. Next up, was Kane and Kenny showing up to visit me in Portland, the Catholic university, where everyone was supposed to be pious. Lo & Behold, all my friends thought these two guys were hip & cool, especially when Kenny thought it generous to share his POT. Believe me, no one on that campus smoked, let alone was exposed to the “evil weed.” Reefer Madness had visited. Of course the boys thought nothing of it all. Kenny relished the great fun seeing the Catholic girls stoned. Kenny, the Master Carpenter, was in charge of building our two houses in Grass Valley, but it didn’t end there. It was a must for him to see what was going down on Maui, so he could put his carpentry skills into our fixer. He came, he saw, he conquered. Kenny’s friends and family were his everything. If I were to call it, as many of you would agree, he was all about unconditional love, take it to the limit, worry-free lifestyle. The “Greaser turned Hipster” sailed through life on raw love from everyone who knew him. One of his favorite lines, “Fair Enough,” says it all. Kenny saw everyone and everything through rose tinted glasses, without judgement. Many of you have plenty of stories to share. Please do. I think we all learned a little something about life from Kenny. He will be missed.

A HUI HO,

Pam Healy

It impossible to think of any phase of Jeff or Gene Meyer’s lives without Ken Furlano in it: childhood paper delivery, (Van Nuys News and Valley Green Sheet), little league, St Elisabeth Elementary School, Notre Dame High School, then a transfer to Alemany High and graduation, Lake Tahoe, Colorado, Hawaii, New Zealand, Grass Valley. An experienced carpenter, he traveled and worked everywhere.  Through it all, he remained the same friend. If true wealth is measured in friends you have, then Ken Furlano was a rich guy. In his younger days, he had a son, Jamie. Later he met Sandie in New Zealand, they married, built a house in Grass Valley, (Did I say that Ken was a Master carpenter?), and raised a family, (Nicole, Fletcher, and Monique). Three years ago, Ken worked and lived in Ventura for 6 months, (with his wonderful dog, Tess), so all his friends in Ventura had a chance to spend time with him.  

My wife Veda and I send our condolences to all the Furlano Family at the passing of our lifelong buddy, Kenny. So long, pal, say Hi to your Mom for me, and I’m sure you can score some cigarettes from Bill Butler or Marshall Brewster.

Gene Meyer