Memories that Matter
for families, friends, family history and fans.
Kathy Pinna:
Richard Joye Baker was born on October 5th, 1863 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to Benjamin Baker (1819 - 1867) and Ann (Joye) Baker (1837 - 1866) and he had a brother, Benjamin Baker.
Richard Baker married Honora (Curtis) Baker (1863 - 1921) on May 21st, 1884 in South Melbourne, Australia and they had children Annie Joye (Baker) Griffith, Adelaide Catherine (Baker) Noyes, Albert Otway Baker, Queenie Norah Cliffy (Baker) Graham, Ernest Frank Baker, Arthur Valentine Baker, Beryl Floris Doreen (Baker) Cameron and Richard Joye Benjamin Baker.
In 1923, Richard married Beryl Floris Doreen (Baker) Cameron and they were married until he died.
He belonged to Masonic Lodge Dromana.
Nat Jensen:
Gary Jensen was my father, a hard working, kind-hearted, funny dad. One gone too soon. He was born in Bakersfield, CA and died in Redding, CA. He is survived by his mother, Melba Jensen, his son Nathaniel Jensen, and his sisters Leslie Mitchem and Karen Van Hoosen, along with many of his nieces and nephews.
Randy Rapp:
I only knew Donald Dwight Hoffman 1970-71, when he was my roommate in House C of Kelly Hall at University of Missouri-Rolla. But seeing no other memorial commentary for Don, and as talented and generous as he was, something of his good life should be stated. I was a freshman in Physics, so they lined up another freshman and me to room with Don, a graduate student in Physics and Fellowship awardee. I can picture him at his desk as I write this, intently smoking cigarettes and grinding away for a course in vector and tensor analysis. We were so fortunate to know him. He was not physically large, but Don was like a big brother to many of us, since he already had a degree and more life experience than the rest of us undergrads. He did not push his views on anyone, but he offered kindly advice with a wry sense of humor, when he thought we needed it. We could tell that our teenage behavior often amused him; maybe our behavior reminded him of himself six years earlier. With his white 1964 Chevy Impala convertible and Hurst transmission, he drove us many times--especially out to the Gasconade River to hang out on sand bars on warm weekend days. That winter, a few of us often spent evening time together in his Impala, simply talking and enjoying each other's company, enhanced with the adult beverages that Don generously bought to share. His stories of Army service were especially interesting to me, since I was heading off to West Point in months ahead. Don explained how the enlisted soldiers would play games on officers, often just for something to puncture the boredom on the 101st Airborne field artillery firebase, when they had no fire support mission. It was only recently that I saw documentation showing Don completed his master's studies, so it was good to know of the success we expected for him. His memory remains a happy reflection in my life. It was good to know him, and I was thankful to call him a friend.
M. Montana:
Ketan - You Are Never Forgotten - I met Ketan when I was 10 years old, having to spend summers with my father. I was riding my bike past his home and he wiped out on his BMX. I asked if he was okay and he said yes. Then I met him a few days later through a mutual friend, who always talked about Ketan. We never introduced ourselves when we first met but then were formally introduced by chance a few days later. I spent all my summers as a kid with Ketan who served to give me much needed escape being trapped in a home that was very unwelcoming. He brought love and solace with him but more so it was his ability to make people laugh hysterically that was his true gift. I think about him often and had a dream about him many years ago where he was in an elevator with me and told me something but I just can't remember what he told me. The dream felt so very real, and it was years after he passed away. Lots of Love & Light Ketan - Give Yash a huge hug from me and say hello to your dad for me too.
Henrietta Young:
She was my great aunt and one of the sweetest people you could meet. She ran a small country store that belonged to her deceased sister. During the summer time she would let everybody in the community use the land behind the store as a ballfield where everyone would play ball games and gave picnics. This was every Saturday and Sunday after church. She would make pitchers of homemade lemonade and served it ice cold.
Anthiony Gentile:
My spiritual sister - I got to know Mirella when I was 16 (1961).
As an only child for 15 years I had always wanted a sister. Mirella to me was the perfect sister. we lost touch over many years an caught later in life when I travelled through the US and visited Mirella and Paul.
A wonderful memory was when the three of us went to an amusement park in San Francisco. Mirella and Paul as I was were unafraid of whatever ride we went on.
I visited Mirella and Paul a number of times over the years and was witness to her illness.
She will always remain in my memory as the sister that I wished I had. Paul, looked after her to the end, and for that he has my eternal gratitude.
Tony Gentile
Amy Palombini:
Amy Palombini - Robert Palombini is my father-in-law. Unfortunately he passed before I met and married his son Samuel so I did not get to meet him in person. Sam and I talk about him often and I always enjoy the stories that begin with, " this one time my Dad....." and it's always a good time. I can tell you a few things that I have heard. He was a kind person, and enjoyed the fine things in life, like good friends, food, etc. He cooked and passed that onto his boys who also enjoy cooking and still try to recreate his signature red onion sauce from Bob's Dogs- the hotdog cart he ran in the Denver area. He enjoyed a good Chianti and we have lifted a glass of Frangelico in honor of his memory. If I could go back in time and meet any one person, I would chose Robert Palombini, so I could know him and how his influence lives on in my husband. Some of the words people use to describe him have been that he had a good sense of humor, he liked to party, he loved to eat, he was strong, brave, and tough. He was awarded the purple heart in Vietnam, among various other military awards. We have very few pictures of Robert, and lost even more in a house fire this year. I know he had friends all over the world, and if any one ever reads this, please share any photos you have. It would mean the world to us.
Brittany Harp:
My first love - We were just kids, really—young, unformed, and trying to figure out who we were. He was caught up in basketball, hanging out with his friends, and staying close to his mom, who lived right next door. I, on the other hand, was chasing something deeper, something more. But instead of finding it within myself, I searched for it in him. That pressure—on both of us—slowly made me insecure, and I unfairly put a lot of blame on him for things I didn’t yet understand about myself.
After we broke up, I didn’t know how to handle the pain of rejection. I lashed out. Even then, he still showed me a quiet kind of support, in his own way. A week before he was murdered, he called me late at night, crying. If you knew Matt, you know how rare that was. He always wore a half-smile and could turn any moment into a laugh. I can’t even recall a time he was truly angry.
That night, his voice cracked as he told me he had done something awful. I thought maybe he’d been drinking. I tried to get him to open up, but all he said was, “They’re going to come for me.” He never told me what he meant. The next day, we went out to eat like nothing had happened. He smiled, laughed—acted like the call never happened. I still think about that day. Could I have done something? Could I have saved him?
A week later, Matt was shot and killed on the front porch of the home we once shared. The truth came out later—he had fired a shot at John’s house, and John retaliated. But anyone who knew Matt knows he wasn’t that kind of person. He was pushed into it. John had stolen from him, and Matt’s own friends had started calling him soft. But I was there. I saw it all. Matt wasn’t a vengeful person. When people hurt him, he usually just cut them off.
But this time was different. He was surrounded by people who fed into the worst parts of the situation. He got pulled into a mess that was never truly his. And no matter what anyone said, I don’t think he saw a way out.
After his death, the pain didn’t stop. People seem to forget, but Matt’s mother later died by suicide, and his stepfather overdosed not long after. His uncle Ronney was never the same. And me? I was left terrified and broken, carrying the weight of a loss I never really got to process.
Matt had such a bright soul—gone far too soon. I just wish I had one more day. Just one more moment for him to meet my son… and see the family that still carries a piece of him. Love you Matt!! Brittany Harp
Dee Rupenhoff:
Rose and Tony Zagarino - Rose is my grandmother. She worked in Millinery before marrying Anthony Zagarino. Fun Fact: Rose and Tony had the same birthday---September 24. He was born in 1910 and she was born in 1911. They had 4 daughters. She did beautiful knitting, sewing, and crocheting. Grandpa Tony loved baseball and was handy at building and fixing things.
Karen Mullenhoff Rupert (Judith Zagarino)
Lizzy Canedy:
This is a portrait of my great-grandmother Eva Alice Canedy (nee Call). She was William Floyd Canedy's mother. I don't know much about her as my grandfather didn't know much either but she's a lovely looking woman who died far too young.
I was lucky enough to this photo negative, which itself was a copy made of the daguerreotype in the 1980s, in my family's collection. Even luckier to have a transparent media adapter attachment of a flatbed scanner. This is perhaps the first time this photo has been viewed in almost 40 years, and I'm happy to get to share it with the world.
Lizzy Canedy:
tagged this photo with the topic Massachusetts.