myTMI

Written 38 years ago by Vance Meyer, a friend and admirer of the late Loretta Pettit of Marion, Indiana, and her son, the late Randy Pettit. Winter, 1984 — Loretta Pettit leaves the Nobby Grill promptly at 4 p.m. and drives to her small Northgate Village apartment to change out of her waitress uniform.   Just inside the apartment door, she is greeted by a framed picture of Randy that sits on a stack of imitation-wood shelves.  Randy’s eyes and wavy, black hair shine in the photographer’s light and his cheeks have sun in them.  A loud shirt with its thick, seventies collar make him look more like a TV star than a junior high school student. Loretta, at just over five feet tall (not counting her Bouffant hair), walks into the bedroom and comes out wearing a flannel shirt, rolled-up blue jeans, and thick-soled shoes.  She glances at her watch and starts moving about more quickly.  After slipping on a down coat and grabbing a canvas bag filled with items she had packed the night before, s