Orris (Orrie), your life in photos, awards, patent copies and more are now spread over our dining room table. It is very difficult to condense my thoughts as each photo seems to have so much depth, just like you. These are some memories of you, precious brother. Orrie, you were the second child and only son of our parents and carried proudly the same name of our great-grandfather (1850-1931) and grandfather (1876-1911). Our great-grandfather was a remarkable pioneer in Minnesota who gained great respect and love from all who knew him. Doesn’t that sound familiar? From the memorabilia on our table I see a baby, a young boy and then a man always with a sweet smile in photos with family, friends, graduation, our animals and his catch of fish! You were the son helping Dad from early times on our farm and though I have no memory of our home being built to a livable state, I know you were Dad’s right-hand “man”. Six of us living in a one-room shack provided plenty of incentive. Finally, the outhouse had to go and I do remember you helping Dad dig the septic tank hole by hand and I’ve always thought that it was at this point you made your career choice. Progress was slow but it surely left memories that life was not a bowl of cherries but full of hard work and the love of caring parents. They were strong in their commitment for us to get our education and have a better life. Little did our mother and father know of their own success as parents due to their far too early deaths. Photos prove you grew from a round little baby to an awkward teen, then on to being a most handsome, tall young man as you graduated from high school. I love the memory of my Seattle summer visits to stay with you and Bert . When you took me to your U of W lab to show some of what you were doing, I pledged someday I would be there in my college years. Things didn’t work out that way as I traded that pledge for Stan and though I know you were disappointed at first, you eventually became very thankful. You made out to be good brothers and our phone talks always included you asking me, “How’s Stan?” No comment here on all the fun times you had! I noticed on the back of the one photo of you between the two young calves, I had written “Orrie and friends”. On a much more recent photo of you accepting your award at the National Press Club in Washington DC with others alongside, you wrote on the back “Orrie and friends”. I like that! Whether it was your friends from our Wishkah School, your years in college and throughout your life, the friends you gained along your train ride of life continued with you. It seemed they were all part of your very large extended family. Flashes of your early life keep coming to surface and while making a sandwich today, I saw you with at least a half loaf of bread at night, spreading each slice with Miracle Whip and heading upstairs to your bedroom with that pile of bread along with your books, fish gear, whatever. I thought when I inherited your room that you would leave me some of your brain power but it seemed you took most of it with you!! I forgive. The comments from your colleagues describe so well the qualities of the remarkable man you had become and that you weren’t only the “King” to your family but also in your profession. You mastered all phases of your life’s interests, never failing to use your curiosity and rich mind. When hearing a comment yesterday that “we are entitled to our own opinions, but not our own facts” in regard to, a political controversy, I felt you have used that throughout life. Stan and I are so pleased we stayed in Hoquiam so we could welcome you “home” to enjoy razor clams, Dungeness crab, wild blackberry pie and much more. I’ll miss making and sending you berry jams but the memory of spooning loganberry jam into your smiling mouth just two days prior to you leaving us will forever make me smile. So long, Orrie, and we’ll love you always.