In memory of Patrick Meadows and Stephanie Shepard
I’m not exactly sure when I wrote this, but based on the Gary Hart reference, it may have been on 8 May 1987. (You can click on the image to see a larger version of it.)
The job reference confirms that it was some time of May 1987. Mary was flying in because Dean and I were celebrating, with our respective girlfriends, five years at our respective aerospace firms. Indeed, I even had a cake made for after dinner that read “FFY” for “five years.”
Here’s a postcard I sent to Gretchen (c/o Patrick) on 6 April 1987. Not much news but included for the completeness of the record. (Click on it to see a larger version.)
About the Mary reference: Mary and I had driven to Vegas for my birthday celebration, but I failed to make hotel reservations. It was snowing up there, but we walked around and had dinner and enjoyed the sites, such as they are. I couldn’t find a place for us to stay so we drove to Henderson, still couldn’t find anything. We finally traveled over Hoover Dam through heavy snow and stopped for the night in Kingman, following big trucks, who cleared the tracks for us, in my Karmann Ghia. She was quite angry with and thought we were going to die.
Stephanie’s instrument was recorder so from the outset it was evident we needed a harpsichord. My experience with music told me that if you had the instruments, the musicians would appear, a kind of magic. So if you had a guitar, for instance, everyone with an illusion of being the next Bob Dylan or Cat Stevens would show up in your living room. Given our new interest in Baroque and Classical, best would be to dispose of the guitar. I passed it along to my daughter Gretchen. She at nineteen was visiting Spain for the first time. She fell out with a bartender named Pedro and smashed my guitar over his head.
Continue reading “Oktav (the Story of the Harpsichord)”Another letter from Patrick, this one dated 17 March 1975. Those were desperate times for me, but how much they shaped my future I can’t say.
Patrick and Stephanie, who loved music and one another with equal passion.
Patrick sent me this post card in July 1975, trying to reach me in Phoenix. As a result, we reconnected in person after a decade’s absence. I was 19.
That summer trip and the events that followed deserve several chapters in a book I’ll likely never write.
Here’s a letter from Patrick dated 24 January 1975, shortly after we’d resumed corresponding.
Here are pictures of Patrick in Paris and myself trying to duplicate his pose. As a bonus, there’s also a picture of Patrick in Soller from 2003.
Continue reading “Paris”Here’s a letter I wrote to Pat and Stephanie in early 1991, found in Patrick’s files. Pretty boring stuff, but I do mention John’s death and Mary’s suicide.
Continue reading “JP to Patrick and Stephanie (2 Jan 1991)”This letter is happier than its predecessor.
