from Nicholas Alciati, Elizabeth's cousin



Photograph of Nick Alciati after production of Footloose, 2005






I started off middle school not sure where I was heading in life. Although I was playing football and running track, I felt as though something was missing in my life. I had always been active in the arts but had shut off the creative side of my brain during this time. Fortunately a golden haired, beautiful girl changed that for me.


I remember floating down the river in our tubes and just talking about everything from her blossoming interest in photography to how stupid she thought the band the Postal Service was. She was one of the only people in my life who I could be fully open with, unafraid of judgment. Elizabeth had an aura to her unlike anyone I have ever met in my 19 years of existence. Everytime I was around her I felt complete happiness and did not hold anything back. If it were not for her I am almost certain that I would not be heading down the path I am. I am now a second year art education major and have decided to concentrate in photography in Elizabeth’s honor. Although she is no longer with us, I still feel her presence every time I snap a picture.

It’s still hard to live life without Lizzy. She was my city mouse and I, her country mouse. I would go to the city and be amazed at the culture and action and she would come to Syracuse and be amazed at the cheap prices. She loved to go to target and the local art supply store just to buy some cheap lotion and pens. Our times playing videogames were also memorable. Although I had never really like playing them, when Elizabeth came to my house we could get lost in Mario Party. Patty never liked that being a librarian and all, but Lizzy packed in the reading as well.

She was a brilliant girl and an inspiration to all she knew. It’s been a hard year and a half, but we all must celebrate her life. If it were not for her I can completely say that I would not be the person I am today. I’m not afraid to break away from societal conformity because of my beautiful Elizabeth. I love you Elizabeth and think of you everyday. You are my angel, and the reason that I keep living my life carefree and creatively.










She loved The Cosby Show

This episode always made her laugh.
It was the pilot for the show in 1983.





Letters from Lizzy

These letters were written to Liza and Bill Bennett, and the annotations are by Liza Bennett. Thank you, Liza, for sharing them.

The Art of the Thank-You Note

Lizzy was her mother's daughter when it came to writing funny, charming, and always slightly unexpected thank-you letters. I went through my little cache recently and found four that I particularly admire. Here they are in roughly chronological order, as best I can discern from her developing penmanship which began largish and loopy with an elaborate signature to arrive at a very poised and ladylike hand.


Written on a little card illustrated by Alice Beard of two girls reading a book with a fairy watching them from behind

"Dear Liza,
Thank you for all of your gifts! Especially... well all of them!!!
Love Lizzy

She then illustrated the gifts in question with little pen drawings and captions:
"fortune teller fish"..."blue porcelain bowl"... "nail art"..."dragonfly bracelet"

Written in pencil, dated 7/26/01, on stationary with cats chasing each other around the edges:

"Dear Liza and Bill,
Thank you so much for the fabric additions to my collection. They're so beautiful!! You're both wonderful badminton players! (a very kind lie) Bill, are you still unbelieving @ your win? Liza, you will definitely beat me next time, but 'til then, keep dreaming!
Much love, Lizzy
p.s. Mom and Dad and the kitties send their best regards

Written on a card illustrated with a woodcut of green leaves, undated

"Dear Liza and Bill,
Thank you so much for my wonderful birthday presents. Now all of the items which have been scattered around my room are put properly in place and organized. In fact, it is strangely frightening how disorganized I was before. I hardly recognize my room! Thanks for curing me of my disease.
Love, Elizabeth Aakre"

Written on a note card I'd given her decorated with a gold leaf, dated 6/28/06

"Dear Liza and Bill,
Thank you for the best dinner of the year! (We'd taken her out to celebrate her graduation from Packer) What a wonderful night — the soup, the waiter, the breadsticks! My ravioli were perfection, and — as a ricotta fan — I could not have been happier. I am sure to be the best read and dressed lady in Northampton next year. Thanks to you both. I will read up on Yeats and Keats and recite for you next time I see you — in July! Tell Molly happy birthday for me,
Love Elizabeth"



cat stationery of Elizabeth's


Other People's Photographs










from Peter Cohen's collection


There is a documentary being shown at Jefferson Market Library Monday, May 12, about snapshots people collect from flea markets, etc. -- something Elizabeth used to do. She had a number of these which she found and kept. Click on the title ("Other People's Photographs") to see more about the movie and the pictures.


The nestling fell

The nestling fell from the tree near the back porch just about dawn.
My cat who visits me in my lap
and looks at me with sweetness and dependence and gratitude
burrowing his snout into my hand as I pet him,
that creature snapped up the nestling and carried
him in his mouth proudly, his tail swaying like
a victorious pennant.

After much subterfuge
we got him to open his mouth
and the nestling fell out.
Of course it could never be the same.
His mother in a proper outrage
screamed a full five minutes
a single harsh note over and over again

I love life
just not my life
that goes on without her

The days begin today for instance
with perfect clarity
the sky blue, the water tower
across the street puncturing the blue
with its pointed tip.
But she is still gone
and tonight my last thought before
turning out the light will be
still gone.


River Reporter publishes article


Local Narrowsburg, NY newspaper the River Reporter printed an article about the book fund a group of us (summer house share folks) established to honor Elizabeth's memory. Happy to see the fund get the notice, though wish the editors had used the photo of Elizabeth we sent to them. It was from summer 2006, she was enjoying floating in a tube in the pond at Ackerman Road house. I think it's now on this site. If the article doesn't appear below, it will soon...I'm figuring that part out!

Invitation to contribute

This is an invitation to post and comment to this blog. You can become a contributor if you like. The blog was meant as a way for as many people to contribute as liked to, as a collaborative effort. There is now a counter to see if it is being viewed since there are so few comments. And then the comments are anonymous. It would be good to have comments and contributions from those of you who have found the blog meaningful to you. As her mother, I don't want to dominate the conversation, but also would understand if you don't feel up to being a contributor. It would just be good to hear from people. For instance, how many would like to have the video back?
Patty


How Dina Aunty relished her memories. Mummy and Daddy were the same, talking about their yesterdays and smiling in that sad-happy way while selecting each picture, each frame from the past, examining it lovingly before it vanished again in the mist. But nobody ever forgot anything, not really, though sometimes they pretended, when it suited them. Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be re-created—not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.

> From A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry