I met Pat Pedersen in grade 5 in Central School. He was at the other end of the rope. We were "ever-ender's" turning rope for the girls to skip. It was the start of a literal lifetime of friendship. Pat's father had a house on Silica St. (the end of the street past Norm Wades and Monica Barret's places) where the stairs went down to the fish hatchery. It was there and later out Ymir road where we started our love affair with old cars (junkers and beaters). Pat and I spent a lot of time locating and hauling home "sheetmetal" for Harry Pedersen, Pat's father. We were best buds through Junior High and High School. We spent a year in California, mostly San Diego. Pat was easy going, likable and made friends easily.....especially girls/women. He broke a lot of hearts. He left us way too early in a car crash. He always is in a part of my memory and I know he has touched a lot of people who still remember and love him.
Pat was always friendly toward me. A decent guy in a small town. I passed an alley one night going home and Pat was in that alley in a scrap with three guys, I won't mention their names, if they read this they know who they are. I should have gone into that alley because my dad always told me " if you see a lopsided fight, get into it and tried to level it out a bit." I walked on by. I would have probably got a butt kicking like a lot of other folks took from those 3 I would have survived and Pat wouldn't have been in that alley alone. Several years later I found my self in a house in the upscale part of Trail in a scrap with three junior Smoke Eater hockey pucks and took a thumping while three friends watched. Then spent half a life time playing barrooms full of bullies. Well I always regretted not getting in there and helping you out cause I have a feeling you would have done that for me. Like Donnie said, you left too soon. Rest is Peace.
Don Daniel
I met Pat Pedersen in grade 5 in Central School. He was at the other end of the rope. We were "ever-ender's" turning rope for the girls to skip. It was the start of a literal lifetime of friendship. Pat's father had a house on Silica St. (the end of the street past Norm Wades and Monica Barret's places) where the stairs went down to the fish hatchery. It was there and later out Ymir road where we started our love affair with old cars (junkers and beaters). Pat and I spent a lot of time locating and hauling home "sheetmetal" for Harry Pedersen, Pat's father. We were best buds through Junior High and High School. We spent a year in California, mostly San Diego. Pat was easy going, likable and made friends easily.....especially girls/women. He broke a lot of hearts. He left us way too early in a car crash. He always is in a part of my memory and I know he has touched a lot of people who still remember and love him.
BOOGIE!
Don Daniel
Cam Molloy
Pat was always friendly toward me. A decent guy in a small town. I passed an alley one night going home and Pat was in that alley in a scrap with three guys, I won't mention their names, if they read this they know who they are. I should have gone into that alley because my dad always told me " if you see a lopsided fight, get into it and tried to level it out a bit." I walked on by. I would have probably got a butt kicking like a lot of other folks took from those 3 I would have survived and Pat wouldn't have been in that alley alone. Several years later I found my self in a house in the upscale part of Trail in a scrap with three junior Smoke Eater hockey pucks and took a thumping while three friends watched. Then spent half a life time playing barrooms full of bullies. Well I always regretted not getting in there and helping you out cause I have a feeling you would have done that for me. Like Donnie said, you left too soon. Rest is Peace.