Long ago, and far away, in a land distant from our home in Alaska, there was a Christmas when Judi was doing her usual-- trying to make unique and personally crafted presents for those she loved.  When the sewing and stitching were going to take longer than the days betwixt the current day and Christmas Eve, she turned to Bill, huddled over his latest model building project, and said something to  the effect of "Hey, you with the delicate fingers, how about giving a hand with making these ornaments for this year's tree?"   So I picked up the needlepoint pattern, and began the stitching.
And there began the rest of a lifetime of the hobby that still consumes the man she left behind.  Thirty or so years of needelpoint and cross stitch that began that night have been one of the things that continue to remind me how much I love that lady.  Today, I finished a piece that started seven years ago.  Progress was interrupted by our time in Germany, and then by a pair of pieces that came from a trip to Denmark in those same two years.  But the real progress on the stitchery came as I sat and shed silent tears for the lady who got it all started so many years  ago.  Thank you, Judi, for giving me the kick to get started, and the patience to let me continue.

Most people are familiar with the saying "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade".  Good advice certainly, but as with many things, Judi was able to give that one her own unique spin.  

The story takes place shortly after Judi had been initially diagnosed with cancer.  With the help of the local doctor, we headed off to Anchorage for a consult with what turned out to be a top notch  surgeon and all around good fellow, Hans Burkholder.  His super assistant, Holli, got us set up for a mad round of scans, tests, and consults .  Now there are some folks who might look upon this as serious lemons, and get sour faced and skip the lemonade.  But not Judi--- for her, it was just part of the adventure, and she was ready to get on with doing whatever it took.  

As we drove into the new office area where the PET scan folks did business, Judi looked at the trees lining the street and was mightily impressed with the quantities of chokecherries hanging on them.  After some quick inquiries at the offices, we got permission to pick a few quarts of the dark red berries. The trees were so loaded, our little  batch made no visible dent in the available supply.  So that night, we squished and boiled, and decided that:

If life gives you cancer, make chokecherry jelly.

Shortly after Judi and I moved into our home in the Jemez Mountains a prisoner escaped from the state facility in nearby Santa Fe and was re-captured after hiding out in the mountains near our new home.  Since I was out of town a lot on business in those days, Judi decided it was time to take a little defensive precaution that was a bit more serious than the Saturday night special  .22 revolver we kept in the house.  We had plenty of friends with a variety of fire power, so they rounded up their favorites and we all met in a well back-stopped clearing in the forest and let the trials begin.  The toys on hand ran all the way from .22 competition pistols through .357 magnums, .38 police specials, military .45 semi-autos, on up to the king of the hill, the Ruger Redhawk .44 long barrel.  With coaching from our shooting friends, Judi took her turn with each of the would-be self-defense tools.  The .22 was obviously too wimpy to  be useful, the .357 was OK, as was the .38.  The officer's .45 had the oomph, but just didn't feel right.  But oh, that Ruger .44 magnum----after laying down a 4 inch grouping at 20 yards, Judi declared the winner.  The long barrel stainles Dirty Harry-looking Ruger was the solution.  After we got our very own example, I was allowed to shoot it a couple of times just to make sure I wouldn't hurt myself with it--- but there was no question that it was JUDI'S firearm.  Like her, it was strong, elegant, and guaranteed to leave no question about who was in charge.  How could any man with a soul not love that lady?

I think most people who knew her appreciated that she had a special relationship with animals, not just hers and Bill's but also other people's.  My husband, Dick, and I and our cat, whom we called Big Kitty, traveled to Haines in our RV one summer and stayed in Bill and Judi's garage apartment for several days.  They generously offered to take care of the cat while we flew off to another part of Alaska for several days of fishing.  Big Kitty - renamed Miss Kitty by Judi - had the run of the apartment except in the evenings when Bill and Judi came over to watch TV.  Miss Kitty made herself comfortable on Judi's lap.  When we returned from fishing our cat refused to have anything to do with us.  We loaded her into the RV where she immediately hid under the sofa and refused to come out, refused to east, refused to come when we called her.  She was thoroughly pissed at us.  Judi and Bill, in their camper, convoyed with us to Anchorage.  We stopped for the night at a campground, had dinner, and afterwards Judi and Bill joined us in the RV for awhile.  When Judi entered the RV she called, in her lovely musical voice, "Miss Kitty, where are you?"  And immediately the cat came out from under the sofa and into Judi's arms, snuggling and purring!

We will miss all your special ways, dear Judi.

With love, 

Ginny Phillips and Dick Bartsch

First, thanks to son Todd for making all this computerness work, and for the week you and Meg and Ashlynn spent with me when it was really good to have someone with whom to talk, laugh, cry and remember.  
Now, the story.  Well, not so much a story (those will come later), but a short four line poem that was recorded in our journal just after we had finished 15 frantic months of moving to Alaska and getting our house built to where it was ready for a winter's work of interior construction:
                     We loved, we lived,
                     We laughed, we cried,
                     But no matter what,
                     It was side by side.



 

My name is Sue Hanson and I am from Poulsbo, Wa.  Judi and I met 53 years ago when we were both new students at Roosevelt Hi in Seattle, Washington.  We sat next together in our first period, gym class. We became instant friends and continued that friendship thru out her life. We just seemed to click and enjoyed all the things that teenage girls like to do.  She was a very spunky and bright person. She got a letter in volleyball, collected Elvis records, was good at fixing hair, volunteered at Fircrest which was a home for the handicapped. She had a lot of self confidence and could really speak for herself. Her mother had died when Judi was in her early teens and her father had remarried a women who was very demanding and strict.  Judi liked coming to my house and my parents really liked Judi so she came to my house alot and we went to church socials, went skiing with my dad and siblings, took the bus downtown Seattle. We really had fun together. At the end of her junior year her father was transfered and she moved to the midwest for her senior year.  Judi was able to graduate early from high school and she moved to California.

She was a really good letter writter so we kept in touch and she told me what was going on in her life.  She got a job, an apartment and a roommate and met the love of her life ......  Bill Broste a student at Cal Tech.

Bill was the beginning of her life!!!

  They married and had a cute little blond son, Todd.  She was a really good wife and mother.  She had so many wonderful adventures with her family.

She was a really good friend to me.  I always admired how skilled she was at learning new things. She was the best cook, baker, knitter, gardener, storyteller.  Judi was good at everything.  She was one bright lady.

Judi wasn't perfect but that is what made her so loveable.  She could say really funny things, that most people couldn't get away with.

I'm really going to miss my good friend Judi and I have cried my eyes out thinking about her passing.

Love you forever Judi,           Sue Hanson