Sunday, September 25, 2022
I googled Patrick’s name a few days ago and was saddened that he’d died. I met Patrick 50 years ago in July 1972, when he picked me up hitchhiking near Brockport where we lived. He was 19 and a junior at Brockport, and I was 15, about to become a freshman. We became friends and a little more, and I visited him often in Brock Manor, where he lived with Chuck Drilling and other roommates. Even today, I remember Pat’s fantastic vigour and vitality. When I moved to Oberlin, OH in 1975, he came to visit me in the summer of 1975. He came again to visit me, but I had already met the man who would become my husband. Pat’s graceful acceptance of my wishes left me even more appreciative of his qualities.
We were very young people learning from each other what we wanted out of life. As a memory, I have the picture on his son’s FB page, which looked like the Patrick I remembered. It is wonderful to think of Pat as a parent. I’m heartened by the fact that he was traveling and enjoying life almost to the end. I hope his final days were not too painful. My condolences to his family. Good-bye Pat, and thanks for the wonderful memories. Power to your children.
