You can learn a lot about a guy from his Facebook page.
Such as this posting from June 14, 2019, on the page of Jeff Gilchrist, the deputy municipal court clerk for the town of Granville.
It’s an original offering (not a meme), opening with a candid snap of two well-used Styrofoam cups, streaked with coffee and stacked on top of one another, on the surface of an equally well-used desk.
“FOR SALE … the last two cups in the municipal building used three weeks,” reads the caption tapped out by Mr. Gilchrist himself.
“Best offer. Special deal for police officers and firefighters. Will trade for a kidney. See me in my office. Will have to buy both. Bottom cup is stuck to the top cup.”
There’s a lot going on in that post, besides workplace tomfoolery and the never-ending grousing about not having enough essential supplies, such as Styrofoam cups.
The line, “Will trade for a kidney,” tells it.
Gilchrist, who died last Monday in his Morgantown home at the age of 58, had been plagued with chronic health issues all his life.
His condition required frequent dialysis and he was on the kidney transplant list, even.
And the thing was, his friends and associates said last week, if you didn’t know him, you would never know he was dealing with such medical issues.
There was that constant twinkle in the eye and that grin playing out under his trademark salt-and-pepper goatee.
There was that ever-present cigar, all those droll one-liners and his unabashed fan-boy devotion to “Star Trek,” the original series with Capt. Kirk, Mr. Spock and Scotty and Bones.
And, for you longtime residents of Morgantown and Monongalia, there was Rockola, Gilchrist’s D.J. and entertainment enterprise blending his loves of slapstick and classic rock ‘n’ roll.
Wedding receptions. Kids’ Day in downtown Morgantown. Assemblages of every note.
Gilchrist got that one going back in his hometown of Parkersburg, where he made his name as a personality on local radio.
If people were gathering, and they needed an entertainment element to make it work, they booked Rockola — more often than not just to see what its chief proprietor would do next.
That’s how Granville police officer Vic Propst first made Gilchrist’s acquaintance 35 years ago.
Propst was patrolling for Monongalia County then, and was president of the county Deputy Sheriff’s Association.
He hired Gilchrist and Rockola for a party.
“You never knew what he was going to do with Rockola. He might show up in a toga or as a well-endowed female. The guy was a riot.”
Enjoying your work
But, if he was a quick wit, he was also a quick study.
As Propst was working in the business of law enforcement, so too was Gilchrist.
The one-time entertainer ended with more than 30 years in that profession, serving as chief of security for Chestnut Ridge Hospital and as an officer for the Mon County Sheriff’s Reserves.
He had been with the Town of Granville since 1993, starting out with dual jobs in the street department and police department.
It wasn’t on his business card, but you could also call him the chief morale officer of the municipal building, said Latina Mayle, who is Granville’s executive administrator.
“If you thought you were going to come to work and be in a bad mood, you could forget it,” she said.
“That went away right after Jeff said, ‘Good morning.’ ”
Police Chief Craig Corkrean laughs out loud when he recalls the daily verbal sparring between Gilchrist and Propst.
“They were a comedy routine on their own,” the chief remembered.
“I could tell you some of the things they said to each other, but you wouldn’t be able to print any of it.”
‘But we’re just moving in’
Mary Beth Renner remembers thinking some unprintable things, as she and her husband were moving into to their house on Main Street in Granville 20 years ago.
“We’re obviously moving in,” said Renner, who is Granville’s town recorder, “but people are still knocking on the door.”
And they weren’t part of the Welcome Wagon. They were potential homebuyers.
“Yeah, they kept asking about the house,” Renner said. “They wanted to know how much we wanted for it. I couldn’t figure it out. I said, ‘But we’re just moving in. Today.’”
Then she saw the “For Sale” sign.
Then she saw a grinning Gilchrist. He was still with the street department then and had salvaged the sign — which he had plopped in the front yard in the midst of all that moving.
Then, trying hard not to laugh, she used her best Mom-tone.
“Jeffrey Alan Gilchrist.”
“What? What?”
Serious friendship
Gilchrist kept it light, Propst said, but he wasn’t all silliness.
He was a serious family man, devoted to his wife Michelle and daughter Lindsay.
His health concerns couldn’t have been more serious, but he didn’t let on.
And, as Propst, Corkrean and Renner each seconded, he also was seriously good at his deputy municipal court clerk job.
Everyone got together last Friday for his services at the Fred L. Jenkins Funeral Home.
When it was done, the Granville people peeled off for dinner. They wanted to meet in his honor to remember the person behind the punchline.
As Propst said, his friend was just as much about compassion as he was comedy.
“That was Jeff,” the patrolman said.
“He cared about people. He was a good friend. That’s how I’m really gonna remember him.”
TWEET @DominionPostWV
