Jerry was my best friend. As I was walking to school on the first day of school in the fall of 1952, he came out of his house, a block from mine, and asked if I was new in town (I was) and asked if I wanted to walk together. I did, and it began a marvelous friendship. He had the gentlest soul I've ever known and I wish I could have had his friendship, with the many, many, shared memories of a wonderful childhood, far longer. Once or twice a year, I  drive to Waseca for one reason or another and will make a stop at the cemetery for a visit, first  to my folks grave and then, I always swing by Jerry's grave. A good man gone far too soon.