Theresa Allore: How I learned that my sister had died

It goes like this…

Easter weekend, 1979. We were visiting my relatives in Trenton, Ontario. We were staying with my father’s parents. Friday evening, April 13th, 1979 (Good Friday) we were having dinner with my aunt Linda’s around 5 or 6 o’clock when my father received a phone call. Things turned abruptly bad. I only remember retiring to my aunts basement with my brother, and talking: we both agreed something very bad had happened.

After that my cousins picked me and my brother up and the evening improved. Suddenly we were having an outdoor bonfire, staying up late, drinking beer and listening to Van Halen, Jamie’s Crying on a car 8-Track. We spent that night at my older cousin Paul’s place on the bay of Quinte (he had a cottage). I remember staying up late watching Empire of the Ants, or some such sci-fi late night feature. The next morning I remember bopping around in his MG convertable, listening to Max Webster and Steely Dan’s Aja on the 8-Track.

Eventually we wound up at my grandparents’ place. We entered the front door and I remember my Papa and Nan crying on the living room couch. We walked back to the rear room where my parents traditionally slept. This room always scared me as there were still copies of the Life magazine with photos of the JFK assassination. My parents were sitting on the bed crying. And that’s when they told us that Theresa’s body had been found.

It was late afternoon. I went outside and took a photo of the blue cloud covered sky.

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One thought on “Theresa Allore: How I learned that my sister had died”

  1. This story gets to me every time I read it.
    Or a new part of it.
    My first reaction is to say that a young boy should never have to live through something like this. But that’s already happened. So what can I say but…

    “People writing songs
    that voices never shared,
    No one dared
    disturb the sounds of silence.”

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