Gaby
Brent & Gaby in the driveway
If I’m reading the clues aright, we must’ve taken this picture in the late spring of 1965, in the middle of Valerie’s first pregnancy (with Rick). Just before Brent left for Geneva and the French East Mission.

We were all tickled, of course, that Brent should continue what was becoming a family tradition of missionary service in French-speaking Europe. None of us had any idea how far that tradition would eventually extend.1 I’ll recount later how it came to pass that we flew to Geneva to pick him up at Christmas, 1967.

The car, a brand-new 1965 Renault 6CV bearing Paris license plates, was already named Gaby. Short for Gabrielle, one of our dear old Esmé’s many cognomens.

At the end of our honeymoon year in Boston (my senior year at MIT) we’d picked Gaby up at the dock and driven her across the country. She then stayed in San Bernardino, replacing there her older sister Brigitte, who (as I mentioned above) continued with us to Stanford.
1Until Pappy was called to preside over my old mission in Paris, in 1967, and then when Valerie, Rick, Erik, and I went to join him in the middle of the next year.
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