Betty, I have many fond memories of you.  The wonderful shows, the  theme parties you graciously hosted at your Yonkers home, our talks about teaching and our frustrations with the NYC DOE.    The Eskimos have a saying, "Perhaps they are not really stars, but openings in the heaven where the love of our lost ones, pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy."  When we look to the skies on a starry night, we'll feel you smiling down.  May you rest in peace.    Midge, Charlie & Willie

I remember doing homework in the backroom. I was in 7th grade and you were in HS. You were taking Latin and I wanted to learn it too. Trying to get my hands on your Latin textbook .   You wanted to be grown up, sophisticated. I hated that. I wanted to be a kid. I remember having to go with you to the Mount St Michael dance . You told me you would kill me if I didn't go. Daddy wouldn't let you out of the house without me  .   You told me you were not leaving the dance until someone asked you "to dance" .We ended up walking home to Yonkers in the   snow.     On the subject of age.  When you were preparing to make your first holy Communion, you had religious instruction on Wednesdays at 2pm. You were in 2nd grade and I was in kindergarten. I went with you because we walked home from school together. So here I am in catechism class  every week and the payoff is, I don't get to make my first Communion because I'm only 5.    Speaking of the backroom. There was a shelf in there that we used for hats. At St Barnabas, we wore maroon berets. One morning, me and you were fighting over one of the hats, pulling it back and forth between us. Aunt Marge was there that day and she kicked the door with her foot to get us to stop. She was limping all over the place but we thought she was acting. It turned out her foot was broken.  I remember Daddy trying not to laugh when he found out.        Backroom stories  are starting to flood my brain. enough for today.     I love you my fearless Betty..            Rose