A friend I met too late.

Having recently become an octogenarian, I have to confess that I scan each day's obituaries for evidence of those who have managed to live longer. In the process, I occasionally learn about people I realize I would have liked to know. I recognized one the moment read the headline over his obituary: "Edward V. Dorsey, 82; Preached the Word and Hayed the Ponies." Dorsey, a Marylander, received early education in the sport of kings from his uncle, who was a professional gambler, and there were tracks at Bowie and Pimlico and Havre de Grace, where he could have honed his skills as a youthful bettor. After serving in the Army in World War H, earning a Bronze Star and Purple Heart during the Battle of the Bulge, he became a postmaster in Upper Marlboro, Maryland. A devoted Democrat, he drank Heineken beer because it was said to be John F. Kennedy's favorite. When he retired from the Post Office he decided to become a preacher. For his theological education, he chose a seminary in Lexington, Kentucky, which just happens to be next to the Keeneland racetrack. "As the oldest member of the seminary class by several decades," writes Joe Holley in the Washington Post, "the mentoring he gave his fellow seminarians included how to lay smart bets."

In 1987, he became the rector of Grace Episcopal Church in Princess Anne, Maryland, where "his political proclivities found their way into his sermons" but were forgiven even by his conservative parishioners because of his good humor. If only our paths had crossed.