You may remember that I introduced you to the remarkable (94-year-old) Morrie Skaret in this space last week.

When my wife, Elsbeth, and I went to talk with Morrie in his large home near the Fauntleroy ferry dock, he came out to greet us.

Standing on the porch a pretty little lady watched us approach. Morrie said, "Come in and meet my lady friend. She is that good looker up there."

The good looker turned out to be Elsie Freeland, who lives next door. Elsie is also a West Seattle High graduate, class of '34 and Morrie's life-companion.

They go dancing every Tuesday night at the Corner Inn at Morgan Junction. They dance from about 5 pm. to 9. I get exhausted thinking about it.

Life has many surprises for us. Amazingly, like Morrie himself, Elsie was also born in northern Canada-about 300 miles south of his sod house in Edmonton.

Yep, her family also migrated to West Seattle. Luckily they both spoke Canadian. Today, Morrie owns the house she rents from him.

"I pay the rent on time every month," she says proudly.

In our tour Morrie showed me a tall hedge between the homes, and said that a couple of years ago he had an 88-year-young neighbor who thought Elsie was some punkins.

Morrie agreed, but did not trust that scalawag, so one day he installed some pig wire inside the hedge to thwart any nocturnal invasion of Elsie's place.

That precaution may have seemed outlandish, but one night they heard a loud commotion in the yard, and went out to investigate.

There was the romantic Lothario, tangled in the pig wire, yelling like a stuck hog. Morrie had to extricate the ardent octogenarian and send him packing.

Long before that incident, Morrie did a long hitch as a captain in the Coast Guard (34 years) and then became a Seattle policeman and put in 41 years, rising to captain.

The walls of his study are covered with memorabilia and certificates of honor he received in his 75 years of public service.

That's only half the story. In fact, most of Morris's story has been told in greater detail in three books he has written. He is a born yarn spinner, loquacious, though never boastful and always articulate.

No wonder he is beloved by hundreds of people who have had the good fortune to meet him.

I've only scratched the surface in what I tell you here.

I plan to take him to breakfast soon (I'll pay for the rolled oats) and scoop out another spoonful of his remarkable life story for you. He is a community jewel.

Jerry Robinson can be reached at Publisher@robinsonnews.com