REMEMBERING LYNDA JACKSON PETITO-SEPTEMBER 2026

I’ve been trying to sit down and write this blog for a couple of weeks. For the first time in my writing career, health issues have kept me from writing.

I’ve been getting steroid injections for my lower back pain. After the last series of shots, I was pain-free—or nearly pain-free. What a relief! Unfortunately, the effects wear off quickly, and the pain eventually returns.

This time, I also experienced some side effects from the steroids. I had fatigue, low energy, erratic blood pressure, and some other problems that kept me away from my computer. Some changes to my blood pressure medication have helped, but I still feel a little more tired than I used to.

As a result, I’ve had to put my new novel aside for a while. That has been especially frustrating because it came after a period of intense writing on the book. I was making good progress and really getting into the story when my health problems forced me to step away.

I’m hoping that writing this blog will help motivate me to return to the novel. I miss writing it.

But there is another reason I wanted to write this particular blog. I’d like to tell you about the passing of our dear friend, Lynda Jackson Petito.

Lynda Jackson Petito

Anita and I knew Lynda before she knew us because Lynda and her sisters, Cindy and Bonnie, were involved in theatre in Crested Butte, Colorado. They acted, produced, and directed plays at the Crested Butte Mountain Theatre, our hometown community theatre that we all loved.

Anita and I permanently moved to Crested Butte in 1998. We owned a condo there, and before moving, we purchased a home. It had been our vacation destination for several years before we finally made the big move.

Shortly after arriving, we got involved with the theatre. I acted in the Steve Martin play Picasso at the Lapin Agile and wrote a successful play that we produced as dinner theatre. Anita and I became theatre board members, and Anita was elected vice president.

I eventually met Lynda when her sister Cindy directed and cast me as the Chief Weasel in a production of The Wind in the Willows. Lynda, Anita, and I hit it off from the start. We had a lot of mutual interests.

During the play’s run, I also met her middle sister, Bonnie. Cindy was the youngest of the three. Bonnie owned a video store in town with a sign over the door that read Flying Petito Sisters Video. My first part-time job in Crested Butte was working in Bonnie’s store.

I always said the Petitos were my paisans—fellow Italians.

Lynda was well known in town. She served as the Crested Butte town clerk for many years before retiring. She also had a Saturday morning radio show called The Finer Things. She played a variety of music, from rock and roll to old classics.

Lynda loved music, theatre, movies, television, David Letterman, and the Beatles. We had plenty to talk about.

I had the pleasure of working with Lynda when I asked her to direct a stage reading of my play, The Puzzle. Later, when I began publishing my books, Lynda would invite me on her radio show to talk about them.

Sadly, after almost twenty years, Anita and I moved to Santa Fe, New Mexico. The last time we saw Lynda was in Manhattan in 2019. We just happened to be in New York at the same time, so we arranged to meet for lunch at the world-famous Katz’s Delicatessen.

We hadn’t seen each other in several years. What a fun time it was—wolfing down those incredible sandwiches and catching up.

After lunch, Lynda planned to see David Conner, a mutual friend who worked as a bartender at a restaurant on 57th Street. They were going to see a revival of a play the next day that Lynda had directed. David had played the lead in that production years earlier at the Mountain Theatre. He had also played Toad in The Wind in the Willows.

Anita and I hadn’t seen David since he moved back to New York years earlier, so seeing him was another unexpected highlight of the day.

Lynda was staying at a hotel on 49th Street, and we were staying with friends in Chelsea. Lynda asked if we would like to walk to her hotel.

That’s what we did.

Unfortunately, Lynda’s health was failing. It had been a big day for her, and she had to stop and rest every few blocks. She kept apologizing to us, but we kept telling her it was all right. We didn’t mind at all. We were just happy to be with her.

It was one of those beautiful New York City days that you wish could last forever.

We eventually made it to her hotel. Before saying goodbye, we asked Lynda to join us for dinner that evening with the friends we were staying with, whom she also knew.

She was tired and wanted to stay in and relax.

At the time, we didn’t know it would be our last time together.

This Labor Day weekend, there is a memorial service for her. I’m sure there will be a huge turnout. Anita and I live in Long Island now. We’re sad that we can’t be there with her family and friends.

We feel so lucky to have known Lynda. She touched our lives in so many ways. Thank you for the memories.

Sending love and best wishes to her family, friends, and everyone whose life she touched.