My memories of Mrs. Little cannot be separated from my memories of Mr. Little and go back to the August of 1969. I got to know Pat from playing high school football on the JV squad together. We were lucky not only to have two-a-day practices, but because we were on special teams, we had a third practice, an hour or so, at 1:00 under the blazing mid day sun. It did not make much sense to go all the way, back and forth, to Boalsburg so I hung around with Pat and Kenny Grove at the Welsh Pool and Pat's house which both were near the school. After morning practice you could always count on Mrs. Little having a hot lunch ready for Mr. Little, who was one of the best butchers in town. Mr. DeLong, Mr. Little's right hand man at work, refused to allow me to bestow the title of Best Butcher in Town on Mr. Little although my Mom still swears he was. He would always have best cuts ready for her, the same time, the same day, every week for as long as I can remember. Anyway back to those hot lunches, whoever Pat drug home at lunch was expected to pull up a chair and share in that home cooking that garnered Mrs. Little my “Best Cook in Town Award”.

After practice ended in the early evening we could always count on finding Mrs. & Mr. Little camped out in their favorite chairs, watching TV, with enjoying their nightly beers after dinner. They both always had smiles on their faces, and Mrs. Little was always trying to make sure we were fed again.

Over the years they shared some great times with their close friends the Berrena's, the Gables and too many others to mention. They loved their nights at the Legion. But most of all they loved and were proud of their three fine sons’. All three served their country, and were lucky enough, to live to tell about it. John in Vietnam, Harold in German and Pat in Japan. I can remember when Pat and I were 18, back in 1972, and I was in school the day of the draft lottery. All the males of age were waiting to hear their draft number. Low numbers were bad, high numbers were good. People were giving reports from the radio as the drawing took place. Before I saw Pat that day I ran into his girlfriend in tears and I knew the news was not good. His number was 32, mine was 297. I found out shortly that those lunches and dinners with Mr. & Mrs. Little would be few and far between soon. No sooner had the Littles’ gotten John & Harold home, Pat was off and enlisted in the Navy.

While Pat was away I would stop in on occasion and the welcome was as warm as ever. There they were, in their designated chairs, big smiles on their faces and their beers by their side. And Mrs. Little would always ask, have you eaten yet?

Soon Pat was back, and things were back to normal. Big smiles on their faces, hot, homemade lunches and dinners, and since we were old enough, an occasional sharing of that nightly adult beverage.

Soon the Little family started to grow. Grandchildren Necia, Chad, Jesse, Jamie, Natalie, Mandy, Jessica and Bobby. Spouses Carol, Marie and Mindy found out what I had come to know very quickly. That if you were ever in the neighborhood, of that duplex on South Atherton Street, affectionately called The Littles’, you could always count on a big smile, a hot meal and even an adult beverage or two, with family.

May God Rest Your Soul,

Audrey & Harold

With Love,

Allen & The Potter Family