When I think about Kate and all the great silly – sometimes
hysterical times we had together I can’t help but smile…
Our jaunt to Costa Rica particularly makes me smile. Our
trip was a perfect example of what a tough, spirited, thrill
seeking outdoors woman Kate was and of what a wimp I was.
Throughout the trip Kate was constantly making sure that I
was OK. Towards the end I nicknamed her counselor Sista (Sista
was my nickname, as well as the other 336 ~ ites name for
her, which I believe was born on a particularly intoxicated
evening freshman year and just stuck). At the end of the trip,
when I had eaten enough beans & rice to last a lifetime,
I made Sista inspect my rear-end multiple times due to a strange
and rather unappealing Costs Rican rash that had developed
in that area, had been eaten by ever bug imaginable and had
been dreaming about running water and Caesar Salads for days,
it was finally time to go home. Kate was not nearly as excited
as I was to go home, she wanted to stay and invest in this
beach / restaurant in some tiny little surf town.
Now I must tell you that I am a nut case when I fly. When
we got on the plane they shut the electricity off on the plane,
which made me panic that there was something really wrong
with the plane and that Delta was withholding the information
from us. While sitting on the runway with no AC in a full
plane in a country with an average temp of about 104, the
Bucknell choir sitting two rows behind us, begins to vomit
due to food poisoning. I naturally was flipping out, I was
hot, panicking, hungover and the plane smelled like puke.
Sista said she had never seen anyone turn red (I thought I
had a fever for about 20 minutes), then I turned green, the
Bucknell kids were getting to me, and then a lovely bleak
shade of white. During this time Sista sat next to me completely
calm, stroking my hair, holding my hand, telling me stories
to make me laugh, doing everything in her power to reassure
me that we were going to be OK…I never loved her more.
When we returned to UVM, slightly bitter towards Dave Kestenbaum
(the super loser in charge of the trip), mainly because he
had made us drag these dumb, heavy, cumbersome binders all
over the country. Sista and I one night at about 3 maybe 4
in the morning decided to set the binders and other random
books on fire in the backyard. Oh, what fun! I can still hear
the howl of Kate’s laugh in my mind.
I think about Sista in her car (the same make and model as
mine, which is green) yet they were so different in style.
We used to joke that mine was the New England grocery grabber
and hers was the styling ghetto Philly blaster.
She used to drive around with her Bolle sunglasses on, regardless
of the amount of sunshine outside, blasting reggae or some
hip-hoppy rap. She would always be on the hunt for the perfect
sandwich or some sort of low fat wonder.
Sista was famous for her fam-a-lee (college family) dinners,
most notably Thanksgiving, which Kate would start racking
up Price Chopper points in early September to ensure our free
turkey. She would make this amazing meal, which would all
compliment the hell out of and Kate would always find something
that could have been better. She never could take a compliment.
Kate was one of the most unique and eccentric people I have
ever known. She had a tough hardened exterior, but once she
let you inside, which was not always easy she was this amazingly
sensitive, caring and understanding person. Sista loved life
more than most that live to be a hundred. She loved to laugh,
have fun and just be a kid. Kate’s love for nature was
truly part of her persona and I feel that she was fortunate
to have actively worshipped in God’s great outdoors.
Please know that she was loved and will be dearly missed.
Kate will live on forever in my heart and in my mind.
JILL HEARTY
|
