This is to Sandy Widener. I felt like I was struck by a sledgehammer, opening up the newspaper at DIA on December 24, seeing this unthinkable tragic news about her and her family. I saw Sandy only a few times in the past 20 years, even though we ended up in the same town, and I have always been so sorry about that; but she--and Patty Calhoun--are nevertheless an indelible part of my own college experience, and my youth, and I have always enjoyed them immensely. I was in that same freshman dorm with them at Cornell on the second floor--and Rob Simon on the third. I remember Sandy, tiny as she was, coming out in the hall at 2 a.m. and reading the riot act to Jimmy Walsh, a big rowdy guy who always came to our floor to raise a noisy ruckus in the middle of the night. He LISTENED to Sandy--like he would have listened to no one else--and slunk away shamed, with his tail between his legs (well, figuratively speaking). So we all got some sleep that night, for a change. Sandy always had these tall boyfriends who towered over her. They just followed her around, while she did all the talking, hands on hips. I remember her saying she'd been a waitress at a truck stop in College Station, TX, when she was in high school, and I could only marvel at the chutzpah of this girl. I remember having lunch with her in January 1982, I think it was, when she was toying with the idea of getting married, wondering if she could really do it. I had loved her writing, and couldn't imagine her giving up her career--but years later, I could see that she never saw this step as giving anything up. From all the things I've read, especially, I can see she was completely fulfilled. She loved every minute of her life. There is that to be thankful for. I'll miss you, too, Sandy, just wanted you to know. Sunny Maynard