Remembering Roby

Roby Starns.  Seaside, OR 1989

"Goodnight, Sweet Prince."

Mom, Duane, Roby, Debee, Shirlee and Patty at my college graduation. 1989

Thank goodness there were photo booths in Seaside.  We were there a lot during 1989-91.

The First Christmas Apartment #304 a Christmas of beginnings           I studied Psychology           you stood in the kitchen stirring           chicken noodle soup                               homemade...           we ate by candlelight. No TV, no phone just Judy singing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas". We walked late at night, Kong by our sides, woolen coat collars snug around our necks. We slaved all night hanging ribbons of pasta           from the few pieces of furniture you had, watched "Jumpin' Jack Flash" at the Broadway Theater for ninety-nine cents, lines from "About Last Night" dancing in our heads. No Christmas tree-- just a           Christmas branch                     strung with silver beads                     sprigs of holly                               we cut ourselves. Who'd ever have dreamed that simple luxury-free season would someday be the one I remember best? Jean A. Miller 5/21/90

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February 24, 1985 Beach Poem to Roby do you remember decapitating little green penguin lollipops or listening to the anguished high-pitched screams our multitudes of bubble-gum flavored gummi bears emitted? the waves lapped up the shore cleansing it for the next wave that cold rainy morning we woke up at 4 a.m. it warmed up though and a large yellow UFO peeped out from cloudy pillows to shoot ultra-violet rays to pound our unprotected heads. we waltzed on the wet sand our feet cold in sodden socks. the blanket billowed behind us as we ran willy-nilly along deserted beaches at 6 a.m. "Save A Prayer blared from the boom box                                         running low on batteries                     because we listened to                     "Dreamgirls" all the way there.                     we didn't pay attention to                               "Our Ultimate Beach Song" as we romped toward Haystack Rock. instead                                                             we sang a rousing rendition of "I'll Go Home With Bonnie Jean" from our high school musical. we spent all our money and gorged on Haystack bread before we went back and sat in the shelter of driftwood to watch the sun set. --Jean A. Miller 2/19/86

These links will take you on another kind of sentimental journey!!  Enter only if you are very brave!!  :)

11/26/1966 - 1/8/96