We miss you, Jay, more than words can say. You are so much a part of my life because of the special bond you & Ed shared from the Westwood days. I miss your dry sense of humor, laugh, and incredible kindness. We can't believe you left us so quickly, still can't believe it. Our fond memories of happier times with you are remembered through our photos & etched in our minds. Eric & Ryan are like you in so many ways; I know how proud you were of them both. They're wonderful boys; an extension of you and Diane. Forever in our hearts, E&B
Jay had a wicked sense of humor as did his mom, we hit it off immediately. We had lots of firsts, first bicycles, first jobs (lawn mowing and delivering papers). We did a lot of hiking and exploring in the hills above my house, on the south west side of the Napa Valley foothills, later, fishing and hunting those same hills. Every hike was an adventure. Hunter safety classes at age 12, fishing cattle ponds for bass and bluegill, building our own kayaks for the Napa river, seriously fishing the river for big stripers, mostly around Horseshoe Bend on the main channel just down from Kaiser Steel. I had use of keys from my Dads’ buddies to access the river there, as well as Leslie Salt flats. First motorcycles, first “real” jobs at Texaco and Chevron on Kilburn Ave, learning how to ski behind Mr. Muzzy’s boat at Berryessa, later learning how to haul and launch the boat by ourselves. First cars, first dates, basically everything that involved our time at school, after school or weekends was filled up. In high school, skin diving for abs, spear fishing for lingcod and poke poleing for eels on the north coast around Salt Point, Bodega and Fort Ross. All the stories, all the experiences that took us into adulthood, was a major part of who we became. We laughed all the time at almost anything around us and our ourselves, it doesn’t get any better than that. Life was a constant adventure and learning experience that lasted a lifetime. Mark Twain wrote about Huck Finn’s adventures, they pale in comparison to what Jay and our friends did together. I’m the luckiest guy to have had such a good friend. I recall when I got my first motorcycle at 14 ½. Jay and I rode out to the Regusci ranch to ask permission to hunt their property, off Silverado Trail. The Terribilini’s and Reguscis went back many years, so I figured we might be able to hunt there. It was about lunch time when we showed up so were invited to have lunch with the dairy hands and family. After, we were told we needed to meet and ask the grandmother for permission, so were ushered to the grandmother’s cottage in back of the main house. She was maybe all of 4’ 8”, dressed all in black, old school, Swiss Italian. I introduced us and asked politely to hunt. She thought for a moment and said.. “I remember your uncle Pietro Terribilini, a hard and honest worker with a good appetite. You are good boys. You can hunt anytime, be sure to close the gates” (that was always the cardinal rule on all ranches and farms on both sides of my family, so it was, and is still a part of growing up on the land).
I leave this remembrance to my friend Jay, with a request for him to break the gate rule, one time only.
Bonnie McMillan (Terribilini)
We miss you, Jay, more than words can say. You are so much a part of my life because of the special bond you & Ed shared from the Westwood days. I miss your dry sense of humor, laugh, and incredible kindness. We can't believe you left us so quickly, still can't believe it. Our fond memories of happier times with you are remembered through our photos & etched in our minds. Eric & Ryan are like you in so many ways; I know how proud you were of them both. They're wonderful boys; an extension of you and Diane. Forever in our hearts, E&B
Bonnie McMillan (Terribilini)
Bonnie McMillan (Terribilini)
Ed Terribilini
I met Jay in third grade.
Jay had a wicked sense of humor as did his mom, we hit it off immediately. We had lots of firsts, first bicycles, first jobs (lawn mowing and delivering papers). We did a lot of hiking and exploring in the hills above my house, on the south west side of the Napa Valley foothills, later, fishing and hunting those same hills. Every hike was an adventure. Hunter safety classes at age 12, fishing cattle ponds for bass and bluegill, building our own kayaks for the Napa river, seriously fishing the river for big stripers, mostly around Horseshoe Bend on the main channel just down from Kaiser Steel. I had use of keys from my Dads’ buddies to access the river there, as well as Leslie Salt flats. First motorcycles, first “real” jobs at Texaco and Chevron on Kilburn Ave, learning how to ski behind Mr. Muzzy’s boat at Berryessa, later learning how to haul and launch the boat by ourselves. First cars, first dates, basically everything that involved our time at school, after school or weekends was filled up. In high school, skin diving for abs, spear fishing for lingcod and poke poleing for eels on the north coast around Salt Point, Bodega and Fort Ross. All the stories, all the experiences that took us into adulthood, was a major part of who we became. We laughed all the time at almost anything around us and our ourselves, it doesn’t get any better than that. Life was a constant adventure and learning experience that lasted a lifetime. Mark Twain wrote about Huck Finn’s adventures, they pale in comparison to what Jay and our friends did together. I’m the luckiest guy to have had such a good friend. I recall when I got my first motorcycle at 14 ½. Jay and I rode out to the Regusci ranch to ask permission to hunt their property, off Silverado Trail. The Terribilini’s and Reguscis went back many years, so I figured we might be able to hunt there. It was about lunch time when we showed up so were invited to have lunch with the dairy hands and family. After, we were told we needed to meet and ask the grandmother for permission, so were ushered to the grandmother’s cottage in back of the main house. She was maybe all of 4’ 8”, dressed all in black, old school, Swiss Italian. I introduced us and asked politely to hunt. She thought for a moment and said.. “I remember your uncle Pietro Terribilini, a hard and honest worker with a good appetite. You are good boys. You can hunt anytime, be sure to close the gates” (that was always the cardinal rule on all ranches and farms on both sides of my family, so it was, and is still a part of growing up on the land).
I leave this remembrance to my friend Jay, with a request for him to break the gate rule, one time only.
Leave that gate open, until we meet again.
Ed