THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 9, 1995 TAG: 9507070644
SECTION: PORTSMOUTH CURRENTS PAGE: 07 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Janie Bryant
LENGTH: Medium: 76 lines
A lot of people around town knew Joseph ``Red'' Knight.
He was an active retiree who poured his heart into the fellowship and work of his community - one of those people who come to symbolize the term ``good neighbor.''
Portsmouth lost that neighbor last weekend.
Knight died from a stroke that followed triple by-pass surgery.
We in the Portsmouth news bureau had gotten to know Knight from his weekly visits to pick up our discarded newspapers.
He must have loaded up thousands of pounds of newspapers for recycling over the past decade.
The tall, lean senior citizen would quietly slip into the office and neatly stuff the papers into large brown grocery bags, filling a makeshift wagon and making several trips to his truck before hauling them to Simonsdale Presbyterian Church.
That's where his Monday Morning Coffee Club met, a group of about 25 retirees - mostly former Navy Shipyard workers - who discussed neighborhood problems and what they could do to solve them.
When the newspapers accumulated at the church, Knight and his friends would load up his truck and he'd drive them to a recycling center that paid a modest reward for his efforts.
That money went to neighborhood efforts such as community cleanups, repairs, or the semi-annual brunches the coffee club members treated their wives to.
He must have felt really rewarded to see his efforts turned into something nice for his neighbors.
Every now and then Knight would reach a milestone in poundage and proceeds and he'd stop by my desk or someone else's to share the news.
The 71-year-old always said ``we'' collected so many pounds and made such and such, referring to it as a group effort.
But most times it was just Knight who made the weekly pilgrimage to our office.
It took him longer to do it by himself, but he didn't seem to mind.
Knight seemed to know something about time - that you don't necessarily get any more done by rushing around. And you probably miss a lot of life along the way.
In an office where too many ringing phones and deadlines can sometimes make us forget to stop and say ``Hello'' or even smile, Knight was always a reminder of what was important.
I don't know if Knight had a garden, but I picture him in one.
He spoke with a soft almost country drawl that made people want to slow down and step into his world of cherished neighbors, old friends and good works.
Knight was about all those things.
He'd be one of the men people could count on to cook at the civic club's annual fish fry or he'd be the one down at the club building if the roof sprung a leak or the furnace went bad.
``Everybody thought Red Knight was Mr. Simonsdale,'' said James Currie, a longtime friend who belonged to many of the same organizations.
People in that sprawling neighborhood are still trying to imagine the community without him.
So are other people who knew him.
When I told a colleague that Knight had passed away, she was shocked.
It was just a couple of weeks ago that a friend of Knight's had come in to the office to gather the newspapers. The friend told her Knight had arranged for him to do so while he was in the hospital.
She marveled that faced with a triple by-pass Knight would think about those newspapers, much less take the time to see that they were picked up.
But Knight wouldn't let anything stop him from doing a little more good for the community he cared about.
Knight seemed to know something about time. ILLUSTRATION: Joseph ``Red'' Knight
by CNB