Louis Joseph Coy, as his drivers license states, or Joe, as the rest of the world knew him, left us on Wednesday evening. His final blackened feet and white hands were uncharacteristic of the Joe we all knew. Joe took something complicated, the internal combustion engine, and understood it the very basic and fundamental level. From this base, built upon 1960s era lawn mowers, Joe diagnosed ailments and brought roaring engines back to life. From his 428 Cobra Jet loaded, 4-door, Dresden Blue 1969 Ford Galaxie 500, to a Mustang Monthly featured, Raven Black 1967 Ford Mustang Fastback, his dark rough hands crafted what his head and heart understood. Joe was a true master of his craft that bridged machine to human. Joes service to countless came in fixing the vital link between the average Snohomish County citizen and their transportation to work, school, and home. True to conventional wisdom, his own vehicle was never a priority. His sidework was always a delicate balance between helping others in need and providing for himself and his two sons who were gonna be like him. Our memories of Joe may be stuck in time. Some may remember rock and roll music, bright clothes, a killer mullet, and Hypatia Lee in the back of a White 1984 Fiat Spider. Others may remember country music, black jeans, silver hair, and Gretchen Wilson on the back of a Poppy Red 1966 Ford F100. Regardless, we remember Joe. Joes mortal remains will return to the sea that shaped his early life. I looked to heaven, and tried to pray; But or ever a prayer had gushed, A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet.