In September 1968, my friend Mick and I arrived from England for a six month stay in the US. We landed in New York and, jet lagged and sleep-deprived, phoned my mothers cousin Yvonnes home in Bridgeport, hoping for somewhere to sleep that night. Yvonne was in hospital, but Bruce, Grammy, Lee and Kirk could not have made us more welcome. Kirk took a day off school to drive us around the local area and we ended up staying for several days before settling off to hitchhike to the Gulf Coast. Six months later, we were back in New York for the flight home and again spent some time with Bruce, Lee and Kirk. A wonderful time, with great memories of my (second?) cousins. I was telling my wife about my time in the States (again!) the other evening and she suggested I look up my cousins. I was so sad to hear of Kirks death, but as long as people have fond memories of him, he will live on.