My memories of Uncle Jerry are from when I was small. Our families lived six or seven hours apart. I had a younger brother and sister and he had two children as well, so it wasn't easy for either of our families to travel. During the occassional visits we managed, Uncle Jerry made an impression as a kind soul. I could see it in his eyes, in the way he treated his children and in the way he treated the animals with whom he came into contact. In a time when children were commonly ignored while amongst adults, Uncle Jerry was quick with a joke or a kind word to any of us kids. I appreciated his easy relationship with my parents, too, and enjoyed the intermittent bursts of laughter while they talked. Once, during a visit to his place, we got to tour his veterinarian office and, to our delight, we came away with Hickory, a beautiful yellow tabby. When I got home from that trip, I wrote a paper for my fifth grade teacher all about becoming a vet when I grew up. I have that paper to this day. Unfortunately, becoming a vet didn't happen, nor did the trip I always thought I'd take to Portland to introduce my family, as an adult, to his.  I regret not making that trip because I know my family would have enjoyed him as much as I did. RIP Uncle Jerry.

I first met Jerry his freshman year at Carthage and immediately recognized his wit and ready smile. He was always friendly and ready to have some fun. A few years later I married his brother, Larry, and when raising our own son, Larry would often remark how similar he was to Jerry. That always pleased me as it meant (to me) that our son had a people personality with a good heart.