Dearest Rebecca, I am shocked and saddened to hear the news of your passing. You certainly were a larger-than-life presence in the office, always laughing and joking. For some reason, I remember when you joined us at Saltmarsh particularly clearly. It was a beautiful sunny morning and we shook hands, and then later that day you and I took off somewhere together after work. I can't remember where we ended up, but the music was loud so we danced. And danced, and danced. And no one else was dancing except us. I don't remember either of us feeling any embarrassment whatsoever. This is an abiding memory, the two of us jumping around in that somewhere pub. And then there was the time that you took a trip to Aruba for me, when I was unable to go. You liked everything about the place except the iguanas, which freaked you out. I gave you some early-morning wake-up calls pretending to be an American on the front desk, which you totally fell for until I couldn't keep in the laughter anymore. It's only looking back, really, that I realize how uncommonly intelligent you were, with your keen observations and sharp wit. I also thought you were beautiful. You had a French, chic look about you, which reminded me a little of Audrey Hepburn. Possibly it was the effect of all those black polonecks. So sail on west, Becks. Wherever you may be, I hope there are no iguanas. With much love and fondest remembrances, Linda Arends Boston USA