I got a call last weekend that one of my best friends from high school, Rene Apel, died last Saturday in California where she had transplanted herself soon after high school.  I kept in regular touch with Rene, and when in California would visit with her.  She died from complications of breast cancer that she had treated for in 1993.  Her ultimate cause of death was acute leukemia, occurring after years of continuing chemo treatments that neither shrunk the tumors in her upper torso, nor allowed them to grow (probably brought on by aggressive radiation treatments in 1993.)

One of my favorite memories of Rene was her last trip to NYC in October 2007. She and our friend, Emily, and I had always planned from high school to take a trip together when we were 50. We knew Rene was failing somewhat, but she wanted to take the trip anyway, and we did. While there for the weekend, we left the hotel for dinner but could not find a cab, because it was Broadway show time. So we took a bicycle propelled carriage down Lexington Avenue. All of a sudden, we hit a bump, and Rene's blonde wig that she had named "Natasha" (because the hair came from Russia) flew off and landed in the street behind us as the cyclist kept on peddling. Emily and I ordered the bicycle rider/driver to stop, I ran out of the carriage up the street, grabbed poor Natasha sprawled on the street on Lexington Avenue before she could get run over by a car and returned it to Rene. We laughed so hard we almost cried. Even the bicycle rider/driver, who was from Turkey, was laughing. He said he loved America.