Marsha was a dear friend and classmate at Westfield Jr. High in Winthrop Harbor, IL. She had an uncontrollable sense of humor and an infectious laugh. I would whisper a joke to her and she would loudly crack up while I feigned ignorance of her action. She never turned me in but eventually I was caught (but never cured!). When she iinjured her leg I gladly pushed her from class to class in a wheelchair, sort oy making amends for getting her into trouble. I have 8mm home movies of Marsha, always laughing. They have no audio but even so I still hear her laughing. Marsha went to college then on to the Peace Corps. I joined the army and made two trips to Vietnam. In August 1971 Marsha was murdered; in September I went into law enforcment. Sort of my way of fighting the bad news. I guess we both tried to help others in our own way.