Some Old Memories

My precious Uncle Tom was diagnosed with cancer a little while ago. He lives in Atlanta with his stunning wife, Auntie Linda and their two beautiful daughters, Christi and Noelle who are all grown up and married. After being a Top Gun Pilot, Uncle Tom flew commercial jets internationally for the rest of his career until getting eye cancer and having to retire.  Sadly, he doesn't have very much time left with his family due to the cancer spreading all over his body. He asked my dad to send some stories via email about our families and some photos. Here are the highlights of the email my dad sent.

He also attached a bunch of photos of our family when we were younger, I will only include one so not to bore you.

Tom, here are a couple of stories I can remember about our kids.  They're not very good (the stories not the kids), but they're the only ones I can remember.  The dates may be way off.  You'll know the dates because for some reason you remember these things better than me.
1.  In 1974(?) Christi went out to visit Jack and Nancy in American Fork when she was about three or four.  She and Jackie loved each other.  After a busy day, they were finally put to bed, but Christi, always a show girl and full of energy, didn't want to go to sleep.  So she started jumping on the bed.  Jackie followed suit.  After several minutes of bouncing and laughing, poor Christi bumped her head on the head board and cried for hours.  Jackie cried too because she felt bad for Christi.
2.  In the late 1990's (?) all three of our families (Tom and Linda, Barb and Paul, Jack and Nancy) and all the kids, met together in Northern Cal.  It was kind of a family reunion back in San Francisco where Dad ("Grandpa Tom") showed us his old stomping grounds (Glen Park, the houses on Cayuga and Moffit, etc.)  We also visited our houses at 1250, 1248 North Road, and Woodside on Summerhill Lane.  While at 1248 North Road we examined the porch posts next to the driveway where Tom had carved his initials and other choice things when he was a teenager, and we saw all the oil and grease spots on the driveway where he parked all his cars.  He only had 37 cars in the space of three years.  Anyway, sometime during that trip we all met at a restaurant on El Camino in Belmont (IHOP, Happy Days, Happy Spot, I can't remember the name).  Patrick (four or five?) and Garrett (Lyndsey's oldest boy) were running all over the restaurant.  Everyone told Patrick (always a show boy and full of energy  --  I wonder where he got that from) to slow down and behave.  He kept laughing and running.  He ended up bumping his head on a table and cried for hours.  Garrett cried too because he felt bad for Patrick.
3.  In the early 2000's (?) we again were back in San Francisco.  But this time it was not for such a happy event.  It was for Dad's funeral.  One evening we were all up at Lu's.  The kids were getting restless and bored.  One of them (probably Christi.  I know it wasn't Patrick) got a bright idea.  They decided to go down to Valerga Drive and rescue the street sign with our name on it and return it to its rightful owners  --  themselves.  We all told them not to do it.  But we wanted them to.  Then we forgot about it.  An hour or two later they all showed up back at Lu's, tired, excited, and victorious.  They proudly showed us the green sign with the white letters "Valerga Drive."  Again, we all told them that they shouldn't have done it.  But we were glad they did.
Anyway, Tom, there's my weak attempt at giving you some information you might want to somehow incorporate into your story.  Again, we are all so glad you're doing it.  I'm still not sure when or how you did it, but you've turned into mom and dad's greatest child and I love you for it.

I would be the one with the black licorice stained face standing on a box with what I considered back then to be my "new wave" hair cut. I believe I was in second grade. Look at my mom. What a stunner.

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