Carlyle Greg Degraffenreidt

From Carlita "Nissy" DeGraffenfreidt Patterson:

My dad was like a breath of fresh air for me!

He wanted me to have a grandchild so bad for him and I finally got her (Tierra)

but now he's not here to enjoy her.

I miss him so much there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about him.

His nickname for me was Nissy!

I wish I could hear him say it just one more time.

I love you daddy and miss u bunches!!

Sincerely

Carlita "Nissy" Degraffenreidt Patterson

From Gustin (Kiff) Kiffney:

I worked with Carl Degraffenreidt (sometimes he went by his middle name, Greg) summers in the early 70s landscaping new homes for R.B. Fitch out in Chatham County.

Carl was a good guy, always ready to laugh, optimistic and good-natured.

I was sorry to hear he'd passed away.

From Donnie Tuck:

Greg was one of my closest childhood friends. He and his family lived in the house behind our house. Greg was one year older than me. Perhaps it was because of the closeness in ages that sometimes I felt closer to him than to my real older brothers. Prior to his family moving to a new neighborhood when Greg was in junior high school, I don't think there was an afternoon that went by that we did not play together.

My backyard and the narrow, unpaved dead end street that ran next to my house were the neighborhood gathering places. Greg, his older brother Lonnie, another childhood friend named Freddie (Clyde Burnette), my brothers and sister, and I entertained ourselves with 'limination, rollin' bat, horseshoes, and touch football.

An excellent athlete, Greg never participated in organized sports. In the summer time, by collecting and selling drink bottles, Greg obtained the quarter required to go to the Hargraves Recreation Center pool. It was he and Freddie who helped me through my first "Rites of Passage" when I was around 11-years-old. Before you could dive off the diving boards at the pool, you had to swim across the five-feet section of the pool. A struggling swimmer (I was so bad that I was required to take swimming lessons as a freshman at Duke) Greg and Freddie waited patiently in the water for me to make it across -- ready to assist me if I started to falter. Then they waited in the 10-foot end of the pool as I took my first dive off the diving board -- to make sure that I came to the surface and made it successfully to the side of the pool.

Probably the oldest non-school picture that I can recall of myself was when I was about 6 or 7-years-old. I was sitting on a picnic table in the back of my house and Greg’s older brother was washing my face with a watermelon rind. Greg was sitting next to me laughing.

I think I last saw that picture about 20-plus years ago.

Rest in peace, Greg.