Jeff father worked with my father at GE. We hung out a lot after school. After I left the area, we lost contact, but on a visit to G-town I dropped into his father's house for a "hello." He told me Jeff fell into some hard times with drugs, but recovered through the help of the Salvation Army. Cool.
He is dearly missed.
Seth was a late comer to the community, the new kid on the block. We never really hung out much, but when we did, it was good fun.
I'd hang out with him now, but the price seems a bit high at the moment, so I'll wait.
Greg lived in the house across the street from me, but he wasn't a part of the Warren Streeters due to his late arrival on scene, having missed the important early years of bonding. Still, for a time I would start my day at his kitchen table for a cup of instant coffee and a cigarette whilst waiting for the bus. Until we got our driver's licenses, of course. Tall and lanky, fun and funny.
Good times, good friends
Joe's father and my father worked at GE together, and Joe and I grew up together around the Erie 4 Fire Department. Lots of laughs, lots of young adventure, and Fouth of July Parades.
His hair was almost alway in place and I didn't know how he did that.
From Raymond Burleigh on October 6th, 2017
Joe had an infectious enthusiasm in everything he did. He worked hard and freely offered encouragement to those around him. That sprit has come to mind a few times over the years and I was sad to learn he is no longer with us.
I remember telling Sid Rogers in Mrs. Perkin's first grade class how much I really, really liked young Lynda. She and I were always good friends. Once on a trip back to G-town I was happy to find her working at the VFW as a bar tender.
Sid was the first non-blood person I ever knew. Our mums used to push us down Jewett St in separate prams. We did everything together as kids, from climbing trees to sledding, drive junk cars through the fields and woods, running wild on the far end beach of Plum Island, going to the Surf at Salisbury Beach, smoking our first cigarettes, which in the end, killed him. When I live in Australia, Sid came to visit and learned how to scuba dive. We were in constant email and phone contact up until his final days. It was all good clean fun. He is dearly missed.