Remembering Mr. Tolver Dree (Age 81)
Mr. Tolver Dree of Lower Highmere passed away peacefully in his chair last Moonday afternoon, having successfully completed his final crossword and partially completed a biscuit. He was 81, a retired railway flagman, amateur historian, and occasional sermon critic.
Born in Hollowtide, Year 942, to a cooper and a quiet woman with surprising aim, Tolver grew up surrounded by barrels and books. He joined the Royal Railwatch at 16 and remained on the job for over five decades — a career marked by punctuality, pipe smoke, and one famous incident in which he calmly redirected a runaway trolley with nothing but a walking stick and a firm tone.
Tolver’s hobbies included map restoration, muttering about bridge taxes, and hosting informal historical reenactments in his backyard. (Notably, he portrayed both sides of the 961 Spoon Rebellion in full costume, to mixed reviews.)
He was a lifelong member of the Society of Narrow Observations and contributed regularly to The Times-Observer with unsolicited annotations, three of which were entirely correct. In later years, he became known for sitting on the same bench in the Inverness Green, where he dispensed weather predictions, unsolicited wisdom, and the occasional boiled sweet.
Tolver is survived by his niece Brenda, two cousins, a half-written monograph on “Flags of the Kingdom: A Slightly Bitter Overview,” and the local bench plaque committee, who are already planning a modest tribute.
A funeral service will be held on Fourthday at Saint Ardin’s Chapel, followed by a procession to the Hillview cemetery. Attendees are encouraged to arrive precisely five minutes early “for good form,” and wear something with pockets.
Donations in his memory may be sent to the Guild of Flagmen, the Inverness Bench Maintenance Fund, or Brenda’s marmalade stall.
He was, in short, a quiet fixture — and one we won’t replace lightly.
Brief Notices
Miss Alra Penk, aged 67, of Eastgate Terrace, passed while pruning her balcony violets. Known for her sharp letters and soft hands. Her violets will be adopted by her neighbor, reluctantly.
Wint Habb, 49, retired bellringer, succumbed to a sudden quietness. Remembered for never missing a chime and once ringing in his sleep. Bells across Inverness will toll in staggered rhythm in his honor.
“Tall Gerry,” identity uncertain, passed peacefully at the public baths, prompting polite confusion and a brief delay in towel distribution. Claimed to be from “the north or maybe farther.” Fondly remembered by the bathhouse staff for never complaining, even when the water ran cold.