Mr. Vaughn, pls direct email me a file of picture. Uncle John looks so much like my dad standing there. I have a few pics to share of John when he visited on leave. Thanks.
Brenda
Frankmcal@aol.com

I first met John in 4th grade. That would have been 1957 or 58. 
Myself ,John ,James Preston and Mickey Patrick were a tight foursome for many years. I went to high school with John. We got into trouble on a regular basis.
I lost track of John around 1968. The Viet Nam war scattered a lot of us. We were drafted at different times and never seemed to hook up again. 
 I've been running people searches for years trying to locate John and the others. Sadly , yesterday , I ran across John's obituary. I wish I could have found him sooner.
 I send my condolences to all his loved ones.
Below is a picture from June of 1960, taken at the end of our 6th grade year. Me on the right, John to my left and Mickey Patrick dive bombing in.  Malene Carter is peeking between us.  She loved John. Photo is courtesy of her.
                   Glen Vaughan

You once stole my heart so long ago. I still remember where our special meadow is. I still have the poem you wrote me.
The days go by
As the wind Changes.
The flowers dry
And the wind embraces.
The stars of the night
The heat of the day.
I sit and wait
For my love to come again
This way.
The look of your eyes
Remain in my mind.
The tender touch at night
When I wake, I reach to find
My meadowwas once so full
The butterflies,sky, and the birds
But my meadow now gets lost in words
As I wait for my lovers return...

We grew so far apart, that it was time for both of us to go our different ways

Uncle Johnny was Dad's youngest brother!  He loved him very much. Uncle Johnny taught us how to make paper airplanes.  What a glorious day it was.  If course being a very young girl, mine got stuck in the house gutter. He will always be our "hipster" uncle.  Life is not measured by the amount of breaths we take, rather by the moments that take our breath away.  Rest in Peace Uncle Johnny.

I remember Uncle John mostly just before he served his time in Vietnam. He hitchhiked from Penn Station (Newark NJ) to our home in Clifton, guitar in hand and bell-bottomed jeans. Our families were on opposite coasts, and it was hard to see him often. He lived like a man of the Earth. Thank you for your service, and rest in peace.

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John Leba

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OBITUARIO

John Richard Leba

11 enero, 1948 – 15 abril, 2019

Chapel of the Valley-L.B. Hall Funeral Home

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