On September 9, 1965 Amy was born. My daughter, Jackie, was born on May 23, 1965, so essentially they were six months apart and both were beautiful little girls. Amy and Jackie were first cousins. They looked alike; blond hair; petite. Jackie had that All American Girl look; Amy had that professional beautiful model look. Jackie was more serious; Amy more fun-loving.

Amy loved her life. She loved to go barefoot. She wore her clothes beautifully; she was a cheerleader and after graduating from high school she worked for The Limited and was great at her job. She really knew fashion and was soon recognized for her stylish look and her knack for pairing outfits together not only for herself but also for her customers.

She spent some summers with me. We did summer classes in English together, laughed together, shopped together. She was always a delightful niece.

She was my brother’s only daughter and of course, her mother’s only daughter. She had four brothers….Danny, Bo, Keith and Greg. She loved her little brother, Greg who came along later in their lives. Unfortunately, Bo, the second son drowned in a boating accident at the age of 25. The family was devastated as any family would be. The entire town was devastated because four young people went out into the Gulf of Mexico and never returned.

I can’t seem to talk about Amy without talking about her brothers…they were a large happy family and seeing all those tow-headed children playing would always put smiles on faces. Danny went to Ole Miss and Bo went to Mississippi State both on football scholarships; both coached by their father. Three of the young ones were found immediately. It took a week to find Bo. I don’t know how they dealt with this death as individual siblings or as a family. The entire football team from State came to the funeral. I barely remember the funeral because my father had obsessed over the grave not having any water in the bottom and I had to go to the cemetery to make sure that none was there. I do remember that the funeral procession was miles and miles long.

Amy seemed quieter after this; somehow different. I did not see her often but I do remember the last time I saw her…beautiful blond hair blowing in the wind; walking barefoot through my sisters yard in a burgundy velveteen pants outfit and calling out to me…laughing that beautiful laugh in response to my request for the gorgeous outfit loving the way it looked on her… that I could have the outfit when she died.

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