I won't try to express the disbelief and loss I feel at this moment, particularly because I believe that everyone who knows Syd has this emotion in common. Just know that my loving thoughts are with you, Riggs Family, as well as with the myriad friends, colleagues and strangers who must feel so bereaved at this time.

I was fifteen or sixteen when I first worked with Syd (at Orem High School) in 1985-86. It was thrilling - we were actually IN Fiddler on the Roof with she and Neil Barth playing Golda and Tevye. And she, along with Neil Barth and Jerry Elison (love you "Jelison" and Neil!), gave me the chance to put the shy, shy child in me aside for a few moments here and there and feel what it was like to tell wonderful stories through art and music. I've never enjoyed working with any director as much as with those three.

I did the first work I was truly proud of with Syd's help: Two-character competition one-act plays as a junior and as a senior. They were very challenging pieces, but I remember how gratifying it was to work so hard. But I must say that one of my fondest memories of those plays was with Janae Koralewski Thomas and I during junior year doing Graceland, and it didn't have anything to do with the performance. We were rehearsing in the auditorium, a particularly emotional passage, I believe, and we hadn't received any instruction or feedback for a suspiciously long time. We cautiously peeked out in the audience, and there they were sitting smack dab in the center of the auditorium - she and Jerry - heads thrown back - fast asleep and SNORING. We just sat and waited for a while to see how long it would take them to wake up. I could swear that when Syd finally did awake she promptly mumbled something like, "That was good – let's do it again."

Yes, that SNORE. Believe it or not, I will always remember that snore with fondness. It serenaded us to sleep on numerous road trips to California (to see the big spectacle shows). On such trips she, and sometimes Dennis, introduced groups of friends to wonderful places: The Huntington Gallery, The J. Paul Getty Museum (in its old home), and many other sites I'd have never known otherwise. After I'd graduated from Orem High, when I'd coached some scenes for the high school Shakespeare competition, Syd invited me to come to Cedar City to see the kids perform; she said I could crash in her hotel room with she and one of the chaperones. Who would have believed that there was another person to equal or rival Syd's amazing snore. Half asleep, I could only think to get as far away as possible from the two snore champions. I ended up sleeping on the floor of the closet. It was a great (and hilarious) adventure.

For well over a decade I was constantly in Syd's company, along with so many dear friends. There were all those summer shows at the Scera Shell that she or Jerry directed, "community" shows in the (old) OHS Little Theatre, shows at the now defunct Backstage Dinner Theatre, shows that we took to the Murray Amphitheater and shows we took to education week at BYU. I even had the privilege of working at D.C. Riggs, Ltd./Christmastime, for several years during its classiest incarnation. Syd also gave me the rewarding chance to "give back" after I graduated from high school, coaching Shakespeare scenes, as I mentioned, and the like.

I must say, as I'm sure hundreds of others can and will, that Syd gave me opportunities to play parts that I sure no one else would have imagined for me. Who else would have thought I could play Fastrada in Pippin (yes - with several pages of dance break cut out, but still DANCING), or cast the eternal soprano (and whitest woman in the world) as Helena Landless (confirming my love of my range below middle C) in The Mystery of Edwin Drood, or, most amazing of all, casting me as a character YOUNGER than myself for the only time in my life (in Meet Me in St. Louis)? Who else would have cast me as Essie, who - yes - fancies herself a ballerina - in You Can't Take It With You (with Jayne Luke playing my mother - talk about feeling like an AMAZON)? I thank Syd, also, for TWO chances as Antonia in Man of La Mancha, the opportunity to play the Stepmother in Into the Woods, the fun of playing Harriett (usually "Harry" - one of Doolittle's two cronies – let's just say we traded the harmonies on "With a Little Bit of Luck" around in interesting ways) as well as Lord and Lady Boxington rolled into one for My Fair Lady, and the privilege of being in that amazing production of Les Miserables in Concert.

And I have such gratitude for the chances Syd gave me to work "behind the scenes" and truly, TRULY appreciate what everyone in that world does. Who'd have thought I'd run lights a bunch of times, have the privilege of being assistant to the director and the opportunity to be assistant stage manager, etc.

Moreover, I thank Syd the countless opportunities to play the small parts. If you don't believe you learn a lot from playing small parts or "just being in the chorus" you are seriously missing out.

I must also thank Syd for being my voice (literally) as Morgan le Fay in Camelot when I had laryngitis during education week; I still can't believe we pulled that off. BLESS HER, particularly, for thinking of me the following summer and letting me step into my dream role, albeit backstage with two hours notice (coming from Salt Lake), when Janae had laryngitis during The Secret Garden. To sing backstage for those two performances and watch as my voice came out of a beautiful, petite blond; perhaps this is the best way to play Lily.

Most importantly, I owe to Syd the lesson that people of all ages and backgrounds can become dear friends. She treated everyone as a peer and a colleague - never condescending, never judging, always and forever loving. I haven’t had the chance to see Syd much in the past few years, but I will miss her nonetheless; she was such an important part of my life. I love you, Syd, always and forever!

Secret Garden keeps running through my head. Perhaps this is something Syd might appreciate:

How could I know I would have to leave you?

How could I know I would hurt you so?...

How could I ever know? How could I ever know?

How could I know I would never hold you?

Never again in this world, but Oh -

Sure as you breathe, I am there inside you.

How could I ever know? How could I ever know?