I'm feeling sad.

"Mr. Weatherly" is gone; we lost him on Aug. 22.He was called Mr. Weatherly because … well, if you heard the name Jack Koehler, you probably already know why he was called Mr. Weatherly.He knew about Carbon County, its trains, the railroad, early industry and especially the greatness of his town in the northern part of the county.He also knew about life. Those lessons started early.Barely out of boyhood, he was drafted into World War II and trained for the invasion of Japan. Afterward he worked for the U.S. Postal Service.His life was a whirlwind of activity.I spent a Saturday with him last year to discuss things great and small. It was a special day and the hours flew by much too fast."Another birthday is coming up," he said. "It's on April 16th.""You're kidding?" I responded. "That's a coincidence because my birthday is the same day."We laughed about the bond, not only sharing a birthday, but a love of history and endless respect for the glory days of our region.Koehler reflected on his life as I sat and took notes. I learned far more than I could put into this short column.But that night, I wrote a full-page feature story. I did the best I could. But it was like trying to fit 4 gallons into a pint-size jar. Deep inside, I felt the story didn't do him justice.Koehler began collecting historical artifacts decades ago after a death in the family.He was looking through items stored in the house of his late uncle, Harry Yeide. He discovered a gold-trimmed Weatherly graduation card from 1892. That find motivated Koehler to rediscover his hometown and collect and save its curiosities.Today, his collection is showcased in a town repository. His private collection is now a museum, opened in 2013 thanks to Koehler, the Weatherly Rotary Foundation and others. Koehler served as host and docent.But he also held another job at the highest level. And I mean high.He was volunteer tender for the town clock inside the tower atop the Mrs. Charles M. Schwab School, an endangered landmark.Each week for nearly 50 years, he climbed steep, dangerous steps to make sure the hands of the massive clock announced the correct time to the town he loved.The Schwab School meant a whole lot to him. It was called Weatherly High School when Koehler graduated from there in 1945.For some reason, I can't stop thinking about a rhyming verse of an 1876 children's song. We sang it at North Ward Elementary in Tamaqua 55 years ago:My grandfather's clock was too large for the shelf,So it stood ninety years on the floor;It was taller by half than the old man himself,Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,And was always his treasure and pride;But it stopped short - never to go again -When the old man died.Koehler the clock man would've turned 90 in April, as told in the song. But he wasn't an old man.He had the attitude, spirit and intellect of someone young and vibrant. He had a bright, inquisitive mind.There was much we needed to learn from him. But now we won't get that chance.How I wish Jack Koehler would climb up those steps one more time and turn back the hands of the clock.I wish he could turn back that clock 20 years; I want him to hold those hands in place so that time will stop robbing us.Someday down the road, somebody new will step forward to adjust the hands of the mighty clock way up high. Maybe he'll do so for 50 years.But nobody will fill the shoes of Mr. Weatherly.And time can never erase the passion we hold inside.