Robert (Bob) Carrier had been a buddy of mine for years. We met when we both lived in London. When I retired to spend time in my home in the Adirondack Mountains of upper New York State, Bob promised to visit sometime. Two years later he finally made it for a big Thanksgiving weekend houseparty.

About the only thing I remember about that weekend was Bob scoring whirls into the floor boards dancing in a mink bomber jacket to Bobby Short.

The next day, as Bob looked around, he kept muttering, "PGs, PGs."

"You know, Ted, this place is so beautiful, you really ought to share it; and with the Winter Olympics just a few months away, there must be hundreds of people looking for accommodations. Why don't you take Paying Guests?"

After developing The Point into the #1 resort hotel in America, I sold it and returned to London; and it was Bob who gave me the idea of writing a monthly travel journal that eventually morphed into Edward Carter’s Travels.

The following took up most of the obituary page in the London Times this morning.