In Memory

My wife was diagnosed with IPF in Oct 2005 after a battle of breast cancer, which she beat the cancer. But not the IPF she passed this past January 15,2011 after 17 days in the hospital. She was on 6lilters of oxygen for 2years and a c-pap at nite. She was very active until December 29,2010 when she went into the hospital.

My mother, Renee Valdespino, celebrated her 83rd birthday in January, 2011. On April 5th, she passed away peacefully. She was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis four years earlier, yet although she had told my father, my sister and myself of her diagnosis, she did not dwell on her illness and chose to live her life as best as possible.

Teresa Annette Flippen Samuels born March 24, 1961 passed away March 25, 1994 at the age of 33. Teresa was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis when she was 3 months pregnant. Her baby was born at 6 months by casesarean in order to get Teresa on a transplant list. She got a lung transplant on 3-23-91 one day before her 30th birthday.

My dad, Richard Plavchak, a fantastic father, husband, grandfather, brother, uncle, father-in-law, brother-in-law, nephew, friend, and co-worker was taken from us on March 17, 2010, by Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. He was only 61 years old. Here is his story:

He was a hard working country boy his whole life. He was born in Pennsylvania on March 31, 1948, to George and Bettye Plavchak.

By Brenda McDonald

Sitting on our patio in the evenings was always a special place and time for us. There was something magical about it and still is. For years I had been joking with Ed about writing me a love song. He had a special way with words, played guitar and sang. I thought it appropriate he write a song for me.

My father George Lujan was born November 29, 1948 in the small town of Marfa, Texas. He was a long time resident of Marfa. He was born, raised, and was laid to rest in the town he loved, the town he called home.

My name is Summer Bell and I became another victim of this terrible disease. In 2005 I got sick with what I thought was a cold. I had this dry hacking cough that would just not go away. After several months of trying to handle it on my own I decided to get some help from the doctor. I went to the doctor thinking they would have all the answers and would make me feel better.

Baseball was a way of life for my family. My earliest memories are of tossing the ball around in the backyard with Dad…him teaching me to “keep my eye on the ball” when fielding grounders… “Don’t move your feet” when batting…and “unhitch the piano” when running the bases.

I would like to tell you a story of a loving father whose biggest fan was his youngest daughter. My name is Connie McDevitt. I am 14 years younger than two siblings. My dad was 54 when I was born. He is my hero. My dad could do anything. I would rather sit on the couch and watch "Westerns" with him than play outside as a young girl.