Being of the next generation of Peconic Bay east-enders I did not have the opportunity to know Don as well as many, but my memories are warm and strong just the same. I'd known Don as far back as I can remember, but the most vivid picture I see is the back yard at my Nanny Floss's (Sinnott's) white house on the blvd. I was no more than seven or eight years old and stuck hanging out with a porch full of the usual suspects at cocktail hour. Except Don, though still with a beer in one hand he played kick-the-ball-as-high-as-you-can with me over and over and over. That's it- simply kicking the ball into the air so I could try to catch it again and again. I will always be grateful. With love, Jenn Guadalupi