Flip Pallot passed away on August 26 in Thomasville, Georgia, from complications during surgery. Much of what he loved was close at hand—his wife, Diane; fog on early autumn mornings; new ideas for rods and boats. He texted me the night before he left for Georgia that he was ready to get the procedure behind him and get to the deer woods. One thing never changed about Flip: He was ready for the next thing.
What a way to go, and I don’t mean that lightly. But to slip the reins of life in your ninth decade, with a full calendar and deals cooking and enough health that you could still climb a tree and pull a longbow up behind you, and go home to a home where the woman of your dreams was waiting and had been right there waiting for nearly 50 years? I’d say Flip won this round.
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