SOUTHINGTON -- Rick Rubelmann and Dave Valentine arrived home from work at the same time Thursday afternoon.

Valentine, a construction foreman, parked his pickup truck; Rubelmann, a vice president at the Connecticut Lottery, bounded out of his state car, and the 12-year neighbors on Southington's Summit Street picked up their running discourse about the Red Sox.

It was the last time Valentine saw his friend alive.

Gov. John G. Rowland consoles Linda A. Blogoslawski Mlynarczyk's husband, Peter, outside the Connecticut Lottery Claim Center in Newington. Mlynarczyk, 38, a former mayor of New Britain, was among those killed.

Rubelmann, 40, was shot and killed Friday morning with three other lottery officials by a rampaging co-worker.

Now there is a hole on Summit Street where a very large life used to be.

On Friday afternoon, Valentine could not grasp the loss. "This was the most solid family man I ever knew," he said.

"I'd be cutting the lawn and he'd come running out with bottles of beer -- he made his own beer in the basement -- and we'd just talk Red Sox and drink some of his cold ones. They were delicious.

"And, say, I'd be working outside, lifting something. He'd just appear beside you, helping you lift. After a while, you just got used to it."

Valentine knew what others at St. Thomas Roman Catholic Church, Western Little League and the Plantsville and Kennedy schools also knew.

That Frederick W. "Rick" Rubelmann III, husband to Mary, father of Eric and Sarah, youth baseball coach, churchgoer, brewer of homemade beer, was a singularly selfless man.

Friday, family members privately grieved.

"Those who knew him well, loved and respected him," the family said in a statement. "He will be greatly missed every day for the rest of our lives."

His friends groped for answers.

"It is surreal," said Joe O'Hala, director of farm league baseball. "It hasn't sunk in. This was a father who was head-over-heels involved in our league for the last four years. There was nothing but compliments from the parents and kids he coached."

Eric, 10, a fourth-grader at Plantsville Elementary School, is ready to move up to the minors this season. The draft is March 21. Rubelmann had been looking forward to that.

Rubelmann was immensely proud of Eric and Sarah, 11, a high-honors student in the sixth grade at Kennedy Middle School.

"We did not learn until relatively late in the day Friday that one of our own was involved," said Robert Lasbury, principal at Kennedy. "You can imagine the feeling."

A school crisis team will be standing by Monday morning.

Rubelmann had risen steadily during 18 years in the gaming industry to become one of the lottery's top managers. But very few people knew that.

"He'd say he had a job with the lottery, never a boast," said Valentine, a foreman at Brunalli Construction in Southington. "Funny thing was, he wasn't a gambler. Knew all about it, but didn't do it himself."

He was also quiet about his wife's multiple sclerosis.

Mary lectured about the disease at schools, and friends who visited for homemade pizza knew about it. But many of Rubelmann's close friends from youth baseball had no idea.

"He never thought it was anything anyone should worry about," said Kevin Forsa, a fellow state employee who had grown close to Rubelmann through baseball. "It was something they were going to live with. This was a totally unselfish man. I can only hope my son grows up to be like him."

The Rubelmanns planned to sell their comfortable two-story home on Summit Street and move into a ranch-style house so that Mary could get around more easily.

Last year, Rubelmann packed up the family for a monthlong odyssey. They flew out West and traveled the countryside in a rented RV.

"I think he wanted to give Mary that while she could still fully enjoy it," said Valentine.

On Friday, shortly after 2:30 p.m., another close friend appeared at the yellow tape that cordoned off the crime scene at lottery headquarters in Newington.

Harry Zander of Torrington was lottery sales manager until his retirement 3 1/2 years ago. Rubelmann succeeded him in the job.

Zander, 70, and his wife, Rita, were driving home through Kittery, Maine, when they heard of the shooting on WBZ, a Boston radio station. When they reached Sturbridge, they heard Rublemann's name over WTIC radio in Hartford, but they couldn't make out if he was dead or wounded.

"We've got to go there," Harry said to Rita.

A half-hour later, they stood at the police line in Newington, pleading for information with a trooper who had none. A reporter took them aside, made a phone call to confirm his information and then shared with them the names of the dead.

"Oh, no!" Zander said, turning to his wife. They embraced and wept. Then Zander said of Rubelmann, "He was just the nicest person. God, why?"

Zander said he often feared violence when he worked for the lottery, but from a disgruntled gambler -- not from a co-worker.

The couple hugged again, and as they walked away, Rita Zander sagged against her husband. He wrapped an arm around her.

Courant Staff Writer Mark Pazniokas contributed to this story.