I knew Pi Kielty. Pi Kielty owes me money. I spent untold shillings at the Salty Dawg, where Pi Kielty drank as much ale as your money could buy, leading a band of miscreants bent on raising heck. There was always a promise of repayment, but you knew it wasn't happening, and anyway, the prospect of heck-raising made it a worthy investment. And then he was gone. All we are left with are this collection of stories. We are reminded that life is to be lived, that family and friends are to be cherished, and that the written word is to be savored. Savor the words found on these pages. Pi Kielty gave his life for them.