People we remember
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People we remember
Biographies are where we share about family & friends to connect with others who remember them.
Stephen Sardi:
"A few weeks ago, I was in Milford on an errand and decided to take a look at the house that I grew up in on Loomis St. After our parents passed, the house was sold and is now owned by someone outside the family. In front of the house there is a small plot of land, and by the sidewalk next to the street there is a hedge that forms a waist-high fence. There is an opening in the hedges that allows someone to walk to the front of the house to knock on the front door. As children, our mother would not allow us to handle the sharp tools used to maintain the yard, hedge-clippers among them. So, Paul and I used to watch our mother doing the yard work, wondering when we would be able to use the equipment. None of it was motorized, so there was quite a bit of manual labor to finish any yard job. One year, when he was still quite young, Paul decided he was tired of watching and wanted to get in on the action. When our mother went out there to start trimming, Paul followed shortly after and told her that he was ready to take on care of the hedges as 'his' chore. Our mother was not sure -- but decided to let him try it to see if he would do it safely, and what kind of job he might do. It took him a long time -- much longer than it would have taken my mother. But he stuck with it, and did a fantastic job. That was it -- it was his chore from then on. He never asked if he should do the chore -- he simply grabbed the trimmers and did it when it was needed. And always -- a great job. I saw those hedges during my drive-by of the house. As back then, they are still standing -- waiting for a caring hand to form them to perfection."
Photo of Ariel Key Ariel Key: "Joshua Michael Hudnall was the best friend a person could have I personally took him on as my partner at CRST as well as at USA truck where we drove together for approximately 4 years during which time even after I was no longer driving he would still stop in at my home in Maryville, Tennessee for every holiday including my daughter birthday each year. "His favorite saying was everyone's place is in the kitchen because that's where the food is!" He loved to eat. And I always made sure to cook when I knew he was coming in. To this day I still leave an empty seat with a plate at our table ready for him in hopes that he will walk through that door again. We all miss him dearly he always brightened up the darkest of days and though he will always be in our hearts there will also always be a seat at our family table for him he was my best friend and I loved him like my own brother. My daughter still asks about him occasionally and it breaks my heart she loved him so much he always had a way with kids. RIP brother we will miss you forever and we hung a flag in your honor from our front porch I got one special made just for you we will always love you and I can't not wait fo the day we meet again on the highway in the sky. Keep on trucking."
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.
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