This story needs a bit of setting up, so bear with me... I had always thought Heidi was pretty, from the day I learned who she was when all the grade schools in Eau Claire came together for us all at Central Junior High for seventh grade.  She was in my chorus class with Mr. Russell.  I don't think I could ever put two words together to actually talk to Heidi.  I guess I thought she was on a different, somehow better level than me.  I found out she lived in Corydon Park. Well, that was so-oo much better than two blocks from Arlington Heights.  You know how kids can think at that age.  I remember wishing I had clothes like Heidi, and long, dark, straight hair like Heidi, and blah, blah, blah. If you all remember, I had lighter brown hair that was more bushy and frizzy, like a. well....like a brillo pad.  I know this, because that is what Brad, my big brother, called me (Brillo Pad, among other things) just to be mean like big brothers can be.  Robin and I, both.  What you probably don't know is Robin and I wore hats to bed with wet hair in a pony tail hoping we would wake up with straight hair , like the other girls.  Hmph...the things kids think and do. Anyway, my little sister, Robin, and I were fortunate enough to have had horses to ride when we were younger.  My mom told me it was to keep us girls busy, and out of other trouble.  My dad started us out with a work horse, a Percheron, he had pruchased from a co-worker, Murray Plante, who was selling the horse from somewhere up by Jim Falls.  No, wait...Dad came home with a black leather saddle with silver adornments. We didn't even have a horse yet.  My mom tells me that they, my mom and dad, didn't have a pot to put under the bed when we five kids were small, so that was a huge deal...the saddle.  Oo-oo, my dad was in deep weeds because of that.  The horse? We didn't care.  We didn't know any better to care.  We had a horse! Well, it just so happened that after Robin and I were old enough and had gotten better at riding, Dad had bought another, better horse, a buckskin Quarter Horse that became 'my' horse, the work horse was sold, and Dad bought a Palomino for Robin, and we began showing them at local venues...mostly all games, with some other girls we knew who had horses. It just so happened that at one particular location we showed often, I realized, oh, Heidi was showing her horse, a great little buckskin I think was called Sonny, there as well most Sundays we were there.  My folks and Heidi's folks had different sized pocket books, so needless to say my tack and attire wasn't what Heidi's tack and attire was for the most part.  Robin and I got by.  We had horses! Heidi rode very well, and entered all the Horsemanship, Pleasure, and Halter classes, and her little buckskin, Sonny, was like a robot, usually winning and always placing.  Robin and me?  We rode well, but were all into the games, like barrels, pole bending, pole weaving, musical tires, sack race, magazine race, ride-a-buck, and Egg-and-Spoon. This is my story of Heidi and me...my memory of Heidi. It seemed to me I was alway one step behind Heidi.  I put myself there, Heidi didn't.  I'm sure Heidi had no idea I had this little private competition going on between her and I...maybe.  Until this one day. This one Sunday, there was a horse show at Bit and Spur riding arena.  I believe that Heidi had kept her horse at what used to be known as Murphy's Stable back in the day across the street from Bit and Spur out near the end of Cameron Street in Elk Lake.  I had entered the Egg and Spoon class.  Heidi entered the Egg and Spoon class, This, I found out as all the horses and riders, each collecting a spoon and a fresh egg, entered the ring. Now, the object to this game is to place the fresh egg on the spoon, hold the spoon in one hand, and do not touch the egg at all once the game begins.  The horses and riders spread around the ring, give room to each, and settle down.  The announcer would begin by asking all riders to walk their horses, spoon in one hand, not touching the egg, feet in the stirrups.  Then all were asked to trot their horses.  A few riders were asked to go to the center of the ring after their egg had fallen to the ground.  Trotting with your feet out of the stirrups cleared out alot of riders, too.  Okay, Heidi and I were still in the running.  Now, this was a class I was quite good at, and usually won, if not placed any other day.  "Canter your horses, please. Canter your horses."  A few more rode to the center of the ring.  After a few more go-rounds, it was down to just two horses and riders. Yep, just Heidi and me.  Rats.  I can remember looking up to the sky and praying almost out loud, "Oh, Lord God, ple-e-e-ease, let me win.  I'll never ask for anything else as long as I live."  We were asked to canter our horses.  No problem.  Buck and I were a well-oiled machine when it came to that.  I'm on the balls of my feet in the stirrups, leaning forward at a graceful, easy lope.  Then, "Stop your horses!" He's a Quarter Horse.  He stopped on a dime. Well, you imagined correctly,  I watched my egg in slow motion go over the edge of my spoon, roll down the neck of my horse to the ground and break.  I looked up to see Heidi's face relax, her sink back down in her saddle, her eyes looked up to the sky, and she sighed in total relief, egg still on her spoon.  In my eyes, Heidi was used to winning at whatever she did, because she was good at whatever she did.  I was good, too, just not that day. You know, when I learned that Heidi had passed away, I was sad to hear she had left a family of her own behind, and for a split second I thought to myself, "Heidi, you beat me again.  You got to Heaven first." I believe that when I get to Heaven myself, Heidi will meet me with a smile on her face and show me how things are done (because it's Heaven)!

She was one of my best friends in high school.  We had many good times. Best wishes to Heidi's family.  Eric if you remember me Thank you for indulging in our antics so many years ago