It’s A Patty Thing

October of this year Randy and I were in Renton. We were down to see our dad who was sick. Traveling is hard for Randy, but it was important to be there and give my dad a hug. As part of our weekend together, Randy asked if I would take him on an errand. We drove down an unfamiliar country highway listening as SIRI navigated us to “The Ability Center”, a business that repurposes vans into handicapped accessible vehicles. We were led to a pristine garage with three or four vehicles in various stages of conversion. Nearly every mechanic stopped and wandered over to chat with Randy about the van he was getting. These were guys who loved their job.

Randy circled the van while the mechanic took the time to explain to me things like, “The van lowers to the ground when you press this.” He pressed the button and the van lowered and a ramp appeared. Randy scooted up it and wheeled around.

He was pleased. I could tell. He signed papers while I watched old reruns of “Bonanza” in the waiting room. Then we started the long back drive to Renton to see our dad. We were silent for a little while, thoughtful. Randy said out loud, not really to me, but just saying it, “That is a Patty Jones thing.”

I glanced over while navigating a lane change, “What do mean? A Patty thing?” I knew WHO he meant, I just did not know WHAT he meant. Patty Jones was my dear childhood friend, and even when I left Anchorage, she kept up with my brother and sister who still lived there. I did not know what the “thing” was though.

“The accessible van. Patty arranged that.”

“What?”

In 2004 on an icy December day, Randy was visiting a job site. Delivering something? Inspecting something? He was not part of the crew, but was enlisted to help with some heavy lifting. Unfortunately (unfortunately seems like a small word for what happened) the wall slipped on the ice and crashed down on the three guys holding it.

It was catastrophic. Everyone was hurt in some manner, but it was Randy who was hit by a header board directly on his spine causing a break right at vertebrae T12. He was paralyzed instantly from that vertebrae down.

During day two in the hospital, in a fog, a crowd of people, doctors, nurses, specialists, friends~ so many friends~ stopped to see Randy. Patty was one of those people. She had worked for years as an assistant to Chancy Croft who was a premier worker’s compensation attorney. And even though Randy cannot remember a lot from those days, he remembers his conversation with Patty.

“We are going to represent you Randy,” she said matter-of-factly.

Randy, having no clue of the severity of his injury, or the lasting, lifelong impacts that being paralyzed would mean, responded with something like, “Oh, I don’t need a lawyer do I Patty?”

Then she said, looking down at Randy in his bed, very clearly and matter of fact – like this is the way all this is going to happen, “We are going to represent you.” She said it in a way that left no doubt in his mind that they were going to represent him and that is the way it is.

They represented Randy. And I didn’t even know it. Not in 2004 when Randy was first injured. Not any other time I visited Anchorage. Not once over the years as Randy would upgrade his vehicle – “Every seven years.” Not even when I drove Randy to pick up the accessible van in 2022. And there were more I didn’t know… The money things. A settlement. So many more things. Patty Things.

I didn’t know, not even after Patty died three years ago.

And now, there we were, Randy and I driving down a country highway and him telling me, “That is a Patty Jones thing.” The fact that he has received a new accessible van every seven years since 2004 and will as long as he lives, is a Patty Thing. The fact that he will have some level of financial security as he ages, thats a Patty Thing.

Patty was my closest childhood friend. So many sunny summer days spent on bikes. Exploring the woods. Sleepovers with giggles and confidences.

According to the internet, to Dr. Google, “Leaving a legacy means giving something that will be valued and treasured by those who survive after your death.” By this, and any other definition, Patty has left a legacy that will touch my brother the rest of his life – a Patty Thing.