Kathleen Mary Lovejoy, a Duxbury High School classmate of mine (’73), passed away a year ago on Holy Tuesday after a courageous fight with a hard driving cancer.
Predeceased by her brother Mark, class of ‘75, and father Kenneth, she leaves behind her one and only son, Marine Lance Corporal Tyler Calhoun, her big brother, a retired marine helicopter pilot, Michael, class of ‘71, her sweet mother Mary and a slew of friends and admirers.

I first met Kathy at the age of 14 in ninth grade when I moved to Massachusetts. In Duxbury we all had nicknames; Kathy had many. I have written about her before using her nickname “Love.”

Love was a tomboy with a sharp sense of humor and an interesting sense of propriety that often didn’t match...

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Wondering why there are yellow ribbons looped and tied around Skaneateles and its residents this month? These are a product of the Loving Lindsay Fund, which was set up to honor Lindsay Harris.

Lindsay is a daughter of Skaneateles that went missing from her home in Las Vegas, Nevada two years ago just before Mother’s day. She disappeared as a minor as she was just 21. Her trail ends at a rental car in her name parked in the desert.

A beautiful mother’s day card from Lindsay is the last correspondence her mother received. It came the same day the Harris’ first received news of their daughter’s disappearance.

America’s Most Wanted has been tracking her case ever since...

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I am not a mother.

It’s a lonely place to not experience motherhood. I know there is a lot of heartache for moms, but I also assume the rewards must be rich.

Not having sisters, I try to imagine what my sister in laws and friend’s experience as mothers. They have always been very generous sharing their feelings about the job.

I think there are times that my life takes a similar path. Like this past weekend when my parents moved into the Presbyterian Manor in Skaneateles.

We have lived together for the past four years. I called us a three-legged stool. We made for a good team, although not conventional by any standards. We were all starters, yet in very different positions...

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I used to fantasize about owning The Skaneateles Bakery (TSB). I was going to do a black and white check floor and paint the walls pale yellow. I would keep the counter, so I could work it.

More than a year ago TSB changed hands from the ground up, literally.

The building was found to be in such rough shape that it had to be torn down and built anew. This proposed many problems for the current owner Sam Mason, who had purchased the business assuming he would be in the former space. When the building was reconstructed, new building codes reduced the original floor plan considerably. This changed many of his operating procedures.

This bakery is so different from the original that many locals are put off upon first entering...

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Memorial Day’s celebration in any of my hometowns was always a centerpiece for those communities.

Somehow all the civic holidays, such as the tree lighting, the fourth of July and, in particular, Memorial Day, I hold accountable for something essentially good in my nature. Not sure why I think this because as my memory serves me, I was about 7 years old in an ill-fitting Brownie uniform complete with a sash lacking in merit badges.

My legs were clad in brown knee socks, which had elastic that had seen better days. My hair was in a pixie cut; I had a space between my teeth; and those eternal chapped lips...

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