Deb Bannister, at her uncle Nick Larabee's grave in Washington, D.C.
Hi, Uncle Nick. I know the '70s were a particularly hard decade for you, mostly because of the lack of G-rated movies and all the decor being earth tones as well as Aunt Beverly's obsession with Bicentennial collectables. She was always one to follow trends. However, our birthday celebration in 1976 was a highlight in my life. I really appreciated the princess phone. It was a big influence for me to become a receptionist, and later when I found out about your secret life. I've learned that your boss, the Chief of Control, was fond of you at the beginning, but gradually you annoyed him, and he called you an idiot. I know how you feel. My former boss Walter Hobbs was annoyed with me, too. He didn't understand how much spending Christmas with Mr. and Mrs. Smart meant to me because they were co-workers as well as friends of yours. But Christmas Eve 2003, Mr. Hobbs walked out on his job to find his eldest son Buddy. Mr. Hobbs started his own publishing and the first book he published was written by Buddy. It's called Elf. I think you would have liked it, just as much as the Christmas present I planned to give you Christmas 1991, but you...you...died too soon. I remember that in between our milestone birthday years we would take turns visiting each other in Washington, DC and New York City, and, occasionally attend festivals in other parts in the United States. You would call me Deb March and I would call you Uncle April, like Amy March and Aunt March in Little Women. All the different media versions were favorites of mine and yours, too.
Braxley Benson, at his grandfather Nick Larabee's grave in Washington, D.C.
Hi, Grandpa Larabee. I finally told Freddie that I divorced from Marissa when Freddie was a baby. I couldn't stand Marissa treating me as if I was the same age as Freddie. I thought that being the Vice President of Sales at the shoe company Daka would make things easy for me. I figured I would have plenty of money or Marissa's alimony and Freddie's child support, and frankly I was more concerned for Freddie than Marissa. I was also trying to appease my boss Greg Horvath, be on his side, but it was hard when one of the three people he was blaming was my son, the others were a girl named Carly and a girl named Sam. I couldn't stand the guilt I felt anymore, so I quit. I was too proud to go back to Control, though, but I found about this pie bakery and that the deceased owner's niece Trudy was looking for a business partner to revive the bakery, so I applied. Hearing that I had a lot of experience as a vice president of sales and that I had plenty of money to cover the rent of the bakery, she accepted me as a partner. It wasn't until Freddie friend and ex-girlfriend Sam moved to Los Angeles that I told Freddie I was his father. He asked why didn't I tell him when he, Carly and Sam were asked to promote the Techfoot. I said that I wanted to wait until the three of them received the $100000 Mr. Horvath agreed to give them and the Techfoot sales were consistently high and reviews positive, but after immediately hearing that the Techfoots were defective, I decided against it. Now that Freddie knows the truth, I gave him a bunch of licensed toys, including a Thomas the Tank Engine, which I was especially sure he would enjoy, considering he founded a model train club called the Training Bros. I know how much family-friendly entertainment meant to you, so I wanted to keep the tradition going with Freddie. Wow, I miss you.