From Steve: 

Distant and not so distant memories of one of the solid bricks in our family's foundation. 

Because of the age difference and the distance in miles between us I do not have as many of memories of Liz as I would like to have, but they are precious to me. 

I'm going to work my way back from the present.  Mary Lynn and I had the wonderful experience of spending time with her in Idaho a couple of winters ago to help her with some things that she didn't feel  physically capable of doing on her own.  With her approval we cleaned out her art room and reorganized it so that she could work in it again.  We spent the day telling stories and laughing more than we worked.  She was so appreciative of the things that we helped with that we felt that she did more for us than we did for her.

I made several patterns for dad over the years for his marquetry.  One winter I made a drawing of a sheep wagon.  Father had complained that he was tired of doing spoked wheels so I did the wheels without spokes.  Liz looked at the drawing and told dad, "you can't have a sheep wagon wheel without spokes," and redrew it.  I later asked dad why he let her do it to which he shrugged his shoulders and replied, " I wasn't telling her." 

In past years when talking to Liz on the phone I would try to screw my grammar up knowing that she would correct me, my response was, "what ever."  She later realized that I was baiting her and refused to play the game. 

Liz and I at one time had a slight addiction to computer games.  We would call each other and brag about our scores.  Which meant that whoever had the lowest score spent the rest of the day trying to get a better score.  Unfortunately I got too busy and had to give it up, but I missed those times of nonsense as mother would call them. 

Liz told the story about when she was in Powell to teach that she took an art class from my old art teacher and friend Bill McRann.  Bill was a very hands on teacher and liked to demonstrate technique on your canvas rather than try to explain it.  He felt that a visual was better than words, he did not know Liz very well and she informed him not to touch her work.  Bill was apparently shocked but adhered to her wishes.  They became very close friends, an easy thing to do. 

I visited Liz when she was at the University of Wyoming, (the second time).  She was living in a small apartment with her entire brood of children in what I like to call organized chaos.  She was amazing, I don't know if she was always like that, but she was calm in a situation that would put most in a straight jacket.  I was always so impressed with that short visit. 

I can hear the laughter and feel the joy of her and mom playing duets on the piano on a Sunday afternoon after dinner, (for novices, noon was dinner, evening was supper). 

I can see Liz and Louise standing at the kitchen counter doing dishes, gossiping, laughing and listening to the radio, was it Arthur Godfrey or Dinah Shore, who knows, I didn't like either one at my age, I was more into Little Orllie. 

One of the most profound influences that Liz had on my life was when she was in the high school play, Mad Woman of Shallot, I can still see her on the stage as she interacted with her male counterpart.  It made such an impact on me that I decided then that I wanted to act someday.  Approximately ten years later I was able to do that with her director, Gordon Wickstrom. 

I hope that these snippets bring a smile to your face, I hope that somewhere that there is an error tha Liz can repair. 

One more thing, Liz preferred to be called Elizabeth, Ron told her that it was such a beautiful name that it should be used.  I got away with calling her Liz, because she said I was just too big to do anything about it.   So with all due respect, Elizebeth it is. (did I leave something dangling there?)