I was a Freshman and had started to get comfortable with new friends, girls I hadn't known in elementary school. Sharon had attended the other Catholic grade school, Pete's and Paul's, while I went to St. John's. We were in study hall together at Good Counsel and probably other classes now long forgotten. I remember that I loved her zest for life and I looked forward to getting to know her better.
That never happened. Sharon Kehoe was killed in a car accident on Good Friday. While it was the end of her life, I suspect it was the beginning of many of her classmates' lives. At least I know that her tragic and untimely death had a profound impact on me. I had only limited experience with death: my maternal grandfather had died when I was too young to grasp its meaning. But now I could understand the concept of mortality. Here was someone my own age, 15, dead. Gone. Forever.
Father Scheid took a few of us to her wake. I don't remember who went, all I remember is seeing Sharon, my almost friend, dead. Gone. Forever. The Easter season always makes me think of her, even after all these years.
Sharon Kehoe is buried in Calvary Cemetery in Mankato, MN.
I remember Sharon as a good friend from SS Peter and Paul’s. Not a long-time friend because my family had only moved to Mankato when I enrolled in seventh grade. My brother was a close friend of her older brother, Pat. I remember her as a little bit shy and soft spoken, she would look down from time to time during conversations. She was a friendly girl with a ready smile and happy to join in. Such a pretty girl as well. She had that lovely light blonde hair with all-over curls that bounced just above her shoulders, a slight build, and a fair complexion which set off her bright blue eyes. Her home was across the street from the SSPP Rectory, and she invited me to stay overnight once. I have one of those photographs in my mind of her room, standing by the window looking across the street to the Allen’s house.
ReplyDeleteAs with Kathy, and for many of us I'm sure, her death was the event that created my collision with mortality and the precariousness of life. I believe she died as a passenger in a one-car accident on a gravel road and what struck me was how easily it could have been me. I often drove the county roads with friends and with no particular caution. I clearly remember her service and the open casket with make up not quite covering her head and neck injuries.
Eventually I began to realize that loosing a classmate unexpectedly is all too often one of the rites of passage in high school. And that is how I will always remember her.
I don't think I've ever heard this story.
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