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 Tuesday, June 4, 2002 12:00 am
WATSON - Larkin Douglass IV in Norwood, May 25, 2002, at the age of 56. Husband of Lynn H. (Hopkins) Watson.
Son of H. Eugenia Louring-Clark Watson of Connecticut. Brother of Randall Forsberg of Cambridge and Celia Seupel of New York. Also one niece and two nephews. He also leaves his ever faithful dog of over 7 years, Tripper. Services were private. Donations in his memory may be made to: National Peace Corps Assoc., 1900 L Street NW #205, Washington, DC 20036 or American Heart Assoc., P.O. Box 9030, Toronto, OH 43964-9030. Arrangements by R.J. ROSS FUNERAL HOME, 135 South Street, Wrentham, MA.
Larkin's dad was an actor some of you may remember:
Larkin Douglass Watson III (February 24, 1921, Jackson, Georgia — May 1, 1989) was an American actor.
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Douglass_Watson
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Andrea Frankenberg (Weissleder)
Larkin was a wonderful friend in the quiet hours. We enjoyed watching the sunset through the windows in my home, as the Grand Canyon Suite echoed from my brother's hi-fi. We were 2 teenagers allowing their nerdy side to be expressed. We solved the world's problems and never actually told anyone about those kick back afternoons when the teenage life took a back seat to sincere conversation and contemplation. He was a trusted cohort with a deep voice. I had a romance going with my honey and now husband, Ken. Larkin time was different. No, no sex.
.My Mom had recently passed away and I ran away from noisy and lonely moments. Larkin was needing quiet as well. He was like a giant lumberjack in appearance. He had the unsuspected sweet heart.
After a few letters and 35 years, Larkin's path intersected mine in an unbelievable circumstance that ranged from Larkin building houses for Indians in the West to meeting a colleague from my PT office in Mt.Kisco, NY at an American Indian healing arts conference. She simply told me about meeting an interesting man with a deep, resonanting voice, a quirky name and looked like a lumberjack. I asked "what was his name?" I could not believe it.
We had lunch and I never saw him again. His tender heart gave out too soon.