This one was taken in 1978 on Western Day. Dion was in the 7th grade, me in the 3rd. It's one of my very favorite pictures of us together. Her mom died when she was in the first grade, but I never sensed a sadness in her at all as we were kids. We just played and got in trouble and goofed off as kids do. I remember one of our favorite things to do was record songs off the radio and we loved the ones that were done like newscasts and they would insert snippets of songs to make the news funny. We recorded those of the most and would play them back and play at Granny's house. We had a clubhouse down by the railroad tracks and occasionally hobos would sleep in our clubhouse. I remember one of 'em leaving a girly magazine there (now, as an adult, I can't imagine the fella meant to leave his whack material, but he was probably drunk and just forgot when he was hopping on the next train to make a stop/slow down by our hideout). I remember running in the fields of Indian Paintbrush with Dion behind Granny's house. I just can't believe she's gone. We only saw each other once a year or so at family gatherings or special occasions, but we chatted on Facebook, the blog or via text messages. I'm going to miss her. Alot.