Only minutes ago the news drippled down to Holland where part of Frances' roots remain. An ocean in between does not stop sadness crossing continents. First time Frances and I met was in Holland, we both were 2 years of age and no recollections of that. The next time was in 1976 when I stayed with the Borst family in California for 6 weeks. Then already she was very much into sports and I remember the yelling when she was playing softball at Tri-City. And I remember by that time she started writing poems - one I remember on the mountains, 'big, bold and beautiful'. So sad she has gone. I want her children to know they can be proud of her - forever.