Kelly and my mother, Maxine Mercer, were best of friends. They were among a group of wild and crazy artistic types swirling around otherwise fairly sedate and middle class Saratoga in the late sixties and early seventies. My mom and some friends were running an art gallery, The Horse Mouth, we kids were hanging out at a coffee house, The Brass Knocker, and Kelly was among of the most creative of the artists in town. Her signature colorful knit ties and metal sculpture were seen everywhere. Kelly had an artistic, adventurous and joyous (probably partly because of her Irish heritage)spirit. Kelly's love of life was contagious. She always kept us laughing. A couple of brief memories-- the time a bunch of us got together and painted her old Jeepster bright gold. Quite a surprise. And being around Kelly when we would all be singing folk songs around a beach campfire, or wherever. And the famous story of when Kelly, my mom and several other women were thrown out of an Irish bar, no less, in San Francisco, for singing too loud. For whatever reasons she went into a downturn in recent years, as my mom did for quite a few years before she died in 2007, it is always sad when a robust lover of life like Kelly draws into a mental retreat. We missed her when she first started fading, and we miss her finally now. Oh-- so the illegitimate sister part-- my mother's short poem on Kelly: I have a friend named Kelly She says we're illegitimate sisters It's fun to be related to someone so clever. Rest in peace, Kelly. We love you. Lee Mercer and family Silverton, ORegon