Because of our last names, I was assigned a locker beside Debbie for six years. We never had any classes together, no common clubs or bus rides. Just the proximate place to store lunch, coat and books. My memory of her: tall, invariably graceful, unflappable, kind. As I yanked my jelly stained Bio text from my locker in a vain effort to locate my English homework, Debbie would smile at me and offer to help. She and I would both be late for class. I wish I knew her better.