This Is The Patricia (Thornton) Kauer Krebs I Knew
Somewhere in late 1971, I was living in Concord, California. In a fortunate twist of fate, this old sailor was back then stationed on a small destroyer, the USS Perkins (DD-877), home ported in San Francisco. There were numerous times she came to visit me on the ship, and we had dinner there on occasion.
My mother lived in Concord, and I graduated from Concord High School in 1970. So, while working in San Francisco, it was fortunate enough to be home at nights, and hanging out with my friends at the local skating rink. This was the time when someone walked into my life, and has had a profound effect on it to this day.
Monday nights were private nights, when groups could rent the facility, and have private parties. For some reason, our little group of slop shots wanted to skate anyway, so as the spokesman, I walked up to a gentleman who looked like he was in charge, and asked for permission to come in. I explained that we were the “Saturday Night Slop Shots,” and wondered if he would mind if we came in and skated for a while. Bishop Orland Heaton was an incredibly kind mind with a big smile. He gave his blessings, and we put on our skates, and the five or six of us blended right in, and had a great evening.
Pat would soon graduate from high school, and I was about two years older. But of all the pretty girls there, she caught my eye. She had a glow about her, and a very infectious smile. If you really want to make an impression on a pretty girl that you’ve suddenly met and been smitten by, create a dog pile at a roller skating rink.
In a dance skate with her, I managed to trip over my own skates and down we went along with five or six people. No one was hurt, we laughed, and continued on for the evening.
I wanted to ask her out again, which she agreed to. Unbeknownst to me, she also had some marching orders from Bishop Heaton: “Just bring him to church on Sunday.” And she did, to the local LDS Ward. I ultimately joined the church, but that is another story, and need not take away from this effort.
Ultimately, we parted company. I had my Navy duties, and she went off to Rick’s College in Idaho. She married, and so did I, and our families have remained friends to this day.
We lost contact for a time, but eventually received letters again through the church, and her family and my wife and I then saw each other in Idaho, and ultimately, I visited again on my way to DC for duty at the Pentagon. That was the last time I saw her and her family for a number of years, We would write each other, and talked on the phone occasionally.
Not too many years ago, after the passing of my mother in Washington State, I was able to take a side trip to Salt Lake City, where she and Kris now live. And since that day, we’ve remained in contact ever since. I hope in some small way, to remain as close now, as then.
Pat will always be my dearest friend. We knew each other for over 45 years. She knew me better than anyone, and I have always treasured her wisdom, insight, and candidness. It was her that created in me a love of poetry and literature, and we shared a favorite author, Kahlil Gibran. And though our views were somewhat diverse, shall we say, we always agreed to disagree, and move on to other topics.
There is nothing that I would not do for Kris today, if it is truly in my power. But it is a true sign of the frailty of the human being, to realize that there are times where no matter what, you can’t. But you are surrounded by friends and family to help you through this time.
God bless you, Pat, and thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for the many memories we shared. You were a woman of strong character, and strong convictions. And I will always remember those, and carry them in my heart forever. I'm looking forward to seeing you on the other side.
God bless you too, Kris, and treasure your moments over these years as well.
John and Teresa Bates