The first time I visited Hoby Wolf at his property, in Eldersburg, was shortly after Patuxent Publishing Co. bought The Eldersburg Eagle in June 2004.

He showed me around, regaling me with jokes and stories. Then we chatted in the kitchen while his wife, Pat, worked.

At some point, he asked her for some of that rice she had made earlier, and of course offered me some as well.

It was special rice, he said. Pat scoffed. She had wanted to throw it out. It was the stuff at the bottom of the pot -- the dregs!

But Hoby insisted it was the best, with the richest flavor, having soaked in all the spices and liquids.

That was Hoby Wolf, a man who savored every morsel of flavor in every grain of life -- especially those that others might have discarded.

Dave Greenwalt, founder of The Eagle, has often said that whether people loved Hoby or loathed him, no one could ignore him. That's more than Dave's friendship and admiration talking.

Once, The Eagle conducted a focus group on a number of topics, among them asking readers if they liked Hoby. Half raised their hands. How many disliked him? The other half raised their hands.

How many read him?

They all raised their hands.

Many formed their opinions of Hoby based solely on his stand on a particular issue or an impression of him they had in their minds. That's too bad.

Fans may have embraced his barbs about big government and government spending.

Detractors often fell into two categories. Some considered him mean-spirited, mad at something or someone.

I know he made some people mad at times, but I can honestly say I never once saw Hoby angry. Even toward his most likely adversaries he was always cordial and engaging in person.

Hoby always looked ahead -- to the next issue or challenge he thought might be interesting. For those who pictured him dwelling on past issues, I would suggest these people probably spent much more time thinking about those things than he did.

Others saw Hoby as too comic, not to be taken seriously. Boy, did they miss out.

Hoby was fun-loving, always ready to share a laugh and a one-liner. But that was the spoonful of sugar that came with his dose of medicine. Behind the laughs -- much of it aimed at himself, mind you -- were stories about community, faith, family, education, people helping one another and personal responsibility.

His pen could be sharp and sweeping, but not nearly as sharp as his wit, nor as sweeping as his generosity.

Hoby shared The Eagle's opinion page with supporters, cordial rivals and even, on occasion, detractors.

He welcomed them all, and enjoyed the mix of opinions and the freedom to express them. I never, ever, heard him bristle at a negative comment aimed at him in print.

Once in a while, if we are lucky, we meet a person who reminds us what an adventure life can be.

Hoby Wolf's life was an adventure, one he faced with optimism and determination, humor and hard work, challenge and opportunity, success and simple pleasure.

He was a private pilot, a radio broadcaster, a film producer, a linguist, a farmer, a builder, a land owner, a businessman, a world traveler, a politician, a columnist, a philanthropist, a humorist, a husband, a father, a friend.

The latter three were likely his most cherished accomplishments.

He was exceedingly kind and gracious, and my wife and I feel privileged that he and Pat called us friends.

Newspapers are families. The folks who work for them become your brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles and, on at least one occasion, your slightly offbeat grandfather.

He's the one who tells jokes at family gatherings, and the one who calls out of the blue or shoots you an e-mail: "How you holding up, buddy?"

Of nearly 300 columns Hoby wrote over the past five-plus years for The Eagle, two are my favorites. We'll reprint one this week, the other next week. (See link, top of this page, to related story.)

Neither has anything to do with commissioner districts or water resources, airports or ethics, nepotism or credit card accounts.

Instead, they deal with the issues that, I believe, represented Hoby most accurately -- community, fairness, love, education, history, pitching in, working hard ... and being blessed in life with the gift of realizing just how blessed you are.

Last Tuesday, as word spread of Hoby's passing, I couldn't reach any family members, so I went to Haight Funeral Home, in Sykesville, and confirmed it had happened.

I left feeling sad, but decided to stop by the Eldersburg post office and pick up mail before heading back to the office.

In our P.O. box, amid catalogs and press releases, was a small item wrapped in plain brown paper with the simple return address: Wolf Airport 21784.

I opened it there in the car. Hoby had sent me a desk calendar with a simple note, "just something I thought you might like." The calendar had beautiful landscape paintings, created by one of his nephews.

On the cover was a scene of a stream meandering through a small clump of trees and a gentle slope.

I mused for a moment that it might have been what the Eldersburg property looked like when Hoby moved there decades ago, and that he might have seen the beauty and the possibilities; the lives that would grow, and the stories that would flourish there.

I could hear him saying, "Ya know, if I clear those few trees there on this side, there'd be enough of a landing strip for a two-seater."

Happy landings, Hoby.

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