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I knew her husband, Pat Duffy, there in Brookings, too.

Although soon I left the editor’s job at the Collegian, classes at SDSU and my full-time job with the Brookings Register to accompany Jaciel to Pierre, where she took a reporter’s job with UPI in the Capitol.

I drove to Rapid City to watch my daughter, Meghan, play with the O’Gorman Knights in the state Class AA Girls Basketball Tournament, back when girls basketball was still played in the fall in South Dakota.

Killing time between games included a trip to the Journal to check in with old pals.

Five months after sharing Pekarek beef, Mary and I drove from east and west to meet at Reliance at the home of my cousin, Red Mc Manus, and his wife, Ruth Ann.

Mary left her car there and rode north with me on Highway 47 to Medicine Butte, a few miles from the farm where I grew up.

My buddy Bernie Duffy, Jr., had similar feelings about my future when he suggested “Hey, you should go to the seminary.I made it a point to follow her writing, watching her develop into an experience reporter with a deft writing touch.I knew Pat better during those years, though, because he was a newsmaker as a lawyer involved in high-profile cases.Meanwhile, I'm all charged up over a decade and a half.But in my own defense, I’m the youngest of the five, so I don’t have quite so many years to work with just yet.

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