The guy who ALWAYS said "hello" to me, Don was just a great guy. I still think of him from time to time, life seems so very unfair- this was a young man who had everything in front of him, and he never got to experience all the ups and downs that therest of us did. He was missed then...he is missed now.
I used to see Donnie around town after we graduated from high school. Things were a bit tumultuous for him then; a rather "limbo" time in his life. But his inner light shone on and whenever he saw me, he'd always say hi and we'd talk. We shared that inner connection of having grown up together. Donnie was a cut above the rest and I know he would have gotten it together in his own way. The last time I saw him was in October, 1971 - I was on a date and we were driving on Montauk Highway in Bayport...Donnie was hitchiking and I waved to him...had I not been on a date, I would have pulled over and picked him up. Anyway, he waved to me and then stuck his thumb out again to continue looking for a ride. I always felt bad I didn't pick him up. Six months later he was dead.
"Only the good die young". Donnie, I miss you my friend and think of you often. I know if you could, you would be with us at all of the reunions we have had. You're with us in spirit. I hope to see you again someday.
Before we moved to Bayport Avenue, I grew up with Donnie Huszagh and his brother Gordon on Kensington Avenue. We were all part of a big "gang" that included Chuck Wesche, the Huszaghs, Bim Calder, Jimmy Gerard, Chris and Jimmy March, and a few others.
Donny and I used to play "house" when we were in first grade. He probably wasn't too thrilled about it, but back then, we were buddies, so he humored me. Naturally, I thought that we would be "boyfriend and girlfriend" all our lives. Kids!
I have many pictures of him at my birthday parties. When I got older, I helped him out on his newspaper route, but once we got to junior high, we pretty much parted ways.
I do remember one incident that involved his mother. My mother had accidentally set the field on fire behind our house while burning trash. It was legal back in those days to burn garbage in your backyard, but my mom was a bit of a flake and it got out of control. She frantically sent me across the street to the Huszaghs' house so I would be safe.
"Where on earth is your mother?" Mrs. Huszagh asked, as we heard the approaching sirens of the volunteer fire department.
"She can't find her lipstick and she won't leave the house without it," I told her.
Mrs. Huszagh muttered something under her breath and then ran across the street to practically DRAG my mom out of the house. To this day, I remember it in vivid detail. I must have been very young, because we moved to Bayport Avenue when I was 5.
Even when we were older and traveled in separate directions, Donny always had a cheery hello for me and was a friendly, wonderful guy TO EVERYONE. I was truly grief-stricken when he died. It was the first time I experienced a classmate's death, and it was so terribly tragic and senseless.
RIP, Donny, I think of you whenever I look at my family picture albums.
Stephen Goodchild
One of my childhood buddies. Rest in peace my brother.
Carolyn Archbold
The guy who ALWAYS said "hello" to me, Don was just a great guy. I still think of him from time to time, life seems so very unfair- this was a young man who had everything in front of him, and he never got to experience all the ups and downs that the rest of us did. He was missed then...he is missed now.
Pat Tyson
I used to see Donnie around town after we graduated from high school. Things were a bit tumultuous for him then; a rather "limbo" time in his life. But his inner light shone on and whenever he saw me, he'd always say hi and we'd talk. We shared that inner connection of having grown up together. Donnie was a cut above the rest and I know he would have gotten it together in his own way. The last time I saw him was in October, 1971 - I was on a date and we were driving on Montauk Highway in Bayport...Donnie was hitchiking and I waved to him...had I not been on a date, I would have pulled over and picked him up. Anyway, he waved to me and then stuck his thumb out again to continue looking for a ride. I always felt bad I didn't pick him up. Six months later he was dead.
"Only the good die young". Donnie, I miss you my friend and think of you often. I know if you could, you would be with us at all of the reunions we have had. You're with us in spirit. I hope to see you again someday.
Love,
Pat
Minx (Maralyn) Rebman (McCloud)
Before we moved to Bayport Avenue, I grew up with Donnie Huszagh and his brother Gordon on Kensington Avenue. We were all part of a big "gang" that included Chuck Wesche, the Huszaghs, Bim Calder, Jimmy Gerard, Chris and Jimmy March, and a few others.
Donny and I used to play "house" when we were in first grade. He probably wasn't too thrilled about it, but back then, we were buddies, so he humored me. Naturally, I thought that we would be "boyfriend and girlfriend" all our lives. Kids!
I have many pictures of him at my birthday parties. When I got older, I helped him out on his newspaper route, but once we got to junior high, we pretty much parted ways.
I do remember one incident that involved his mother. My mother had accidentally set the field on fire behind our house while burning trash. It was legal back in those days to burn garbage in your backyard, but my mom was a bit of a flake and it got out of control. She frantically sent me across the street to the Huszaghs' house so I would be safe.
"Where on earth is your mother?" Mrs. Huszagh asked, as we heard the approaching sirens of the volunteer fire department.
"She can't find her lipstick and she won't leave the house without it," I told her.
Mrs. Huszagh muttered something under her breath and then ran across the street to practically DRAG my mom out of the house. To this day, I remember it in vivid detail. I must have been very young, because we moved to Bayport Avenue when I was 5.
Even when we were older and traveled in separate directions, Donny always had a cheery hello for me and was a friendly, wonderful guy TO EVERYONE. I was truly grief-stricken when he died. It was the first time I experienced a classmate's death, and it was so terribly tragic and senseless.
RIP, Donny, I think of you whenever I look at my family picture albums.
I'll always adore you!
Love, Minx