In 50 years, I've never known a more genuinely sweet soul than Janice. At The Tampa Tribune, she was that rarity among the grumbling, tense, hard-edged, sardonic toilers: patient, kind, encouraging. Her enthusiasm for a piece I wrote on Kurt Vonnegut remains a treasured memory. It's a hard, cold world she leaves, and it is harder and colder without her, yet her example of grace, compassion and courage under daunting duress inspires me to try to emulate her. A lovely woman, ceaselessly warm, richly humane; I'm blessed to have known her. After my dad died, I had an alarming day months later when I couldn't envision him; I couldn't place him into context. Then I remembered his rich, delighted laugh, and there he was, happily ensconced in my heart and my mind's eye. Janet I'll always immediately recall because of her radiant, effortless, can-do smile. That smile will light my path the rest of my days.