We became friends as young editors, she at Working Mother, me at McCall's. We quickly realized we had a lot in common and lived only a few blocks apart, so we'd stroll home together through Central Park, talking all the way.
Kathy was hands down the fastest walker I've ever known. A native New Yorker, she could navigate her way through Fifth Avenue crowds at rush hour, sidestepping the slow pokes and adjusting her stride to catch every green light.
A few years after I left New York, Kathy was offered the perfect job — director of literary programs at Symphony Space. She stayed there for the next 25 years, producing the Selected Shorts program and many other literary endeavors, making her living from books and ideas.
But she always made time for walking, so whenever I'd go to New York I'd get in touch with Kathy and it would be just like the old days: a fast walk, a good talk.
I'm a believer, so I'm trying to imagine Kathy in a more perfect place. But it's hard to do. It's hard to imagine her anywhere else but New York. So what I wish for her instead is a perfect New York walk. A crisp fall day, an open stretch of sidewalk, and plenty of friends to share the trail.