My oldest sister, Becky, took it upon herself to help me with scholastic endeavors. Whenever I needed help with school, especially deciding if college was important, she was there. My parents were high school educated and lived through the depression. They had to work to support their families, brothers and sisters and parents. When I was a junior in high school, Becky decided to move to Chicago. She left one morning and was lost forever. Most likely she fell asleep while driving east on I-80. Her car crisscrossed the freeway and propelled off a 70 foot high bridge crossing a set of railroad tracks below. Thanks to an over the road semi driver who saw the skid marks and the damage to a guard rail, there was no delay in finding my sister. At the age of 16 the loss was surreal. It was strange to me that someone could be here one day and gone in the blink of an eye. But if it wasn’t for Becky, I would have never gone forward to pursue advanced education and college degrees. There was no one else in my family who had the experience to give me that advice and through my life she lives on.

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