Rick and I were buddies in first and second grade at Hoover elementary. He lived two doors down and we played in his back yard with his dog, a Collie that I thought was nuts. We played guns and climbed trees and laughed a lot. We had our share of spats but Rick would always show up at my door as though nothing happened. Rick had the sweetest mother who always fed us great snacks even though I believe she was sufferring. She died a few months before my family moved across town. Her death was very tough on Rick. I don't remember my relationship with Rick at Jordan or Paly but I recall very clearly running in to Rick a few years after high school. He had returned from serving in Viet Nam and I was back from a ship that had been to Viet Nam. Rick kept a stoic front but in veiled words he spoke of the stress he felt from combat. A few years later I heard that he died in a way that was related to his combat. Harry McNeill
Harry McNeill