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Pat and I spent so many, many hours when we were growing up ever since she and her parents moved to Prospect St. in Warren just down from where I lived. We walked every day to school together, and we rode bike many days out in the country even taking a picnic to the local cemetery by my home and fixing up some of the headstones that had fallen over. We would "talk" to one particular grave that we could read the last name, and it was Jest, so we would visit with "Jest the ghost" . She even "taught" me how to drive her parents stick shift car. We spent lots of Saturday nights at Stateline Speedway rooting for our favorite drivers, and always would park out by the dirt road so we could get away fast after the race was over, and didn't have to get caught in the traffic jams. I lost track of Pat after she graduated from nursing school, and I from x-ray school. I got married and moved to NY and did see her one more time at Wildwind Festival one summer, but that was the last time. So many memories to hold on to. RIP Pat and say
Hi" to your Mom and Dad.
Becky