Kathy Brant

When I was in grade school, I looked forward to the “Ozzie and Harriet” tv show every week, in great part so I could see their son Ricky Nelson sing at the end of the show.  I loved every song, and I thought he was handsome beyond handsome.  Soon I was collecting all of his record albums and 45's, playing them over and over; I knew all the words of all the songs.

 Ricky spilled into my burgeoning interest in drawing portraits too; his record album photos provided my models, and I was so proud of myself when friends could recognize him from my drawings.  I kept them for years.

 Though my childhood crush faded when I began dating "real" boys, I still bought any new song he brought to the national scene.  Though now he had become Rick Nelson, he still made me smile.  Many years into my adulthood I had the chance to see him live.  It was a great show; he was in fine voice and handsome as ever.

 Dec. 31, 1985. I was visiting my parents in the house of my childhood.  When I came downstairs early in the morning, my mother told me there had had been a plane crash, and Rick Nelson was dead.  Tears popped into my eyes; I was sad for the talented man whose life was cut short and sad for the little girl of my memories who lost "her" Ricky.