Denise Rush
My friendship with Mr. Retelle’s oldest daughter, Patrice, goes way- back. When we were teens in the late ‘60s/early ‘70s, it was Mr. Retelle, the quintessential Dad, who would drive us home from dances at “The Voke” school. On hot summer days, we had the delight of being driven home from “The Cove” in W. Methuen in the coolest of cars back then, his big white station wagon with the little rear-facing “wayback” seat. From the front driver’s seat, over the roar of the motor and the noise of the road, he’d loudly ask if we were all ok back there. Fast forward to now: After attending your family’s final farewell and listening to their many heartwarming stories and tributes about you, in my opinion, I’d say that the kids are all right, and the road up ahead for you looks like a smooth drive. You don’t need to look way-back and ask any longer. From the looks of your very large and beautiful family, you’ve done a stellar job, and they all will be way-more than okay. R.I.P. Mr. Retelle.
- Denise Rush
