Imagine a lively family gathering at Lake George NY, where childhood cousins are having fun playing games, laughing, and running around. Suddenly, my brother, Bob rushes into the cabin and hides under the bed. My mother sensing something is not right decides to investigate. She finds him under the bed and asks him what's going on. He replies in a tearful, trembling voice, “There’s so much blood."

Mother is filled with terror and rushes outside to find out what has happened. She discovers that Meg has been struck over the head by a toy Indian tomahawk. Although I was too young to witness this incident,I loved the way Meg, with a smile, tells the story of what happened many decades before. She gently pulled back her bangs to reveal a scar in her forehead from the legendary Indian battle. This is the person Meg was endearing ,forgiving, and loving.

by Ken Rieth (cousin)

I first met Meg at a family wedding in Cape May, New Jersey. As we exchanged pleasantries, her inviting smile and warm demeanor immediately made me feel at ease. Upon learning I lived a few miles outside of Washington, D.C., she recounts a story of her visit to the Phillips Gallery.

Meg confessed that, art had never really captured her interest. However, during a visit to the Phillips Gallery in Dupont Circle, Washington, D.C., she discovered Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party. As Meg described it, the painting seemed to exert an irresistible pull on her, drawing her towards it with a magnetic force. She walked, or perhaps even floated, towards it in slow motion, the surrounding people and noise fading away until she was standing in front of the masterpiece. The colors, the setting, the joy of the scene - it all resonated with her in a way she had never before experienced.

Meg's story had a profound impact on me, and I found myself marveling at the power of art to move us in unexpected ways. Later that day, at the wedding reception, Meg and Jo welcomed me into their family with open arms. As a Southern girl in unfamiliar territory, I felt grateful for their warmth and hospitality. Looking back, I regret not having more opportunities to spend time with Meg, who was truly a beautiful soul and story teller. Whenever I see Renoir's Luncheon of the Boating Party, I am reminded of her and the special memories we shared that day in Cape May.