She was born Patricia Lou Bassett in Kansas City, Mo., on Jan. 11, 1928. Her parents divorced when she was a baby, and she was raised by her mother and, later, a stepfather. After graduating from Paseo High School, in Kansas City, with the class of 1944, she moved to New York City, to cultivate her career in illustration.
A talented artist and illustrator, Ms. Chaarte was fired from a job with Hallmark, according to a friend, after designing a holiday card with a pop-up Jesus Christ inside, arms outstretched.
"He is risen," the card read.
She gave birth to a son Dana Brooks Barrett in 1954.
She decided to marry a friend, Abner Chaarte, when Dana was young. She thought, according to friends, that her son needed a father figure in his life. The marriage did not last very long. But the friendship endured, and she kept his last name.
The city provided her a platform to find herself. She only realized well into adulthood, for instance, that she was gay. Around that time, a friend named Wendy Johnson became a love interest, then a longtime girlfriend. The two also became business partners, opening a needlepoint shop on the Upper East Side called 2 Needles.
In the early 1990s, Ms. Chaarte and Ms. Johnson retired and moved to San Miguel de Allende, a picturesque city about 200 miles northwest of Mexico City that had long been a haven for expatriates.
Ms. Chaarte stayed busy in retirement. She became involved with a local animal shelter. She went dancing, with a soft spot for the Glenn Miller Orchestra. She dressed plainly, in slacks and big shirts, but sometimes donned a tuxedo for special events. She stayed engaged with American politics, diligently sending absentee ballots and keeping up with cable news. Once, while watching a segment on President Donald Trump, she threw a coffee mug at her television and shattered the screen.
After the tragic death of her son Dana in about 1970,
In her 60s, she prepared finally to leave New York, the place she had called home for most her life. She would leave her son behind, yet she did not want him to be alone.
So on Jan. 23, 1989, she buried his ashes at Hartsdale Pet Cemetery. He would rest there with two beloved, deceased pets as his companions. Ms. Chaarte's partner, Ms. Johnson, later purchased a plot there, too.
In Mexico, far from the locus of her imperishable pain, Ms. Chaarte found moments of peace. But friends witnessed spells — whether over drinks or around certain holidays — when the delightfully rough edges of her persona would momentarily smooth over, her demeanor would quiet and her mind would drift to the past.
Ms. Chaarte suffered a stroke when she was almost 80. She lost the right side vision in both eyes. A few years after that, she experienced complications from a pulmonary embolism. Her health was failing. She relied more and more on her friends.
They took care of her after she was moved to an assisted living facility, shuttling groceries to her house. They would play Skip-Bo, a children's card game, which Ms. Chaarte would punctuate with bursts of profanity, making everyone laugh.
In her final years, she was diagnosed with cancer.
From an article in The New York Times By Andrew Keh
January 7, 2024
Section A, Page 1
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/07/sports/human-burial-pet-cemetery.html
A talented artist and illustrator, Ms. Chaarte was fired from a job with Hallmark, according to a friend, after designing a holiday card with a pop-up Jesus Christ inside, arms outstretched.
"He is risen," the card read.
She gave birth to a son Dana Brooks Barrett in 1954.
She decided to marry a friend, Abner Chaarte, when Dana was young. She thought, according to friends, that her son needed a father figure in his life. The marriage did not last very long. But the friendship endured, and she kept his last name.
The city provided her a platform to find herself. She only realized well into adulthood, for instance, that she was gay. Around that time, a friend named Wendy Johnson became a love interest, then a longtime girlfriend. The two also became business partners, opening a needlepoint shop on the Upper East Side called 2 Needles.
In the early 1990s, Ms. Chaarte and Ms. Johnson retired and moved to San Miguel de Allende, a picturesque city about 200 miles northwest of Mexico City that had long been a haven for expatriates.
Ms. Chaarte stayed busy in retirement. She became involved with a local animal shelter. She went dancing, with a soft spot for the Glenn Miller Orchestra. She dressed plainly, in slacks and big shirts, but sometimes donned a tuxedo for special events. She stayed engaged with American politics, diligently sending absentee ballots and keeping up with cable news. Once, while watching a segment on President Donald Trump, she threw a coffee mug at her television and shattered the screen.
After the tragic death of her son Dana in about 1970,
In her 60s, she prepared finally to leave New York, the place she had called home for most her life. She would leave her son behind, yet she did not want him to be alone.
So on Jan. 23, 1989, she buried his ashes at Hartsdale Pet Cemetery. He would rest there with two beloved, deceased pets as his companions. Ms. Chaarte's partner, Ms. Johnson, later purchased a plot there, too.
In Mexico, far from the locus of her imperishable pain, Ms. Chaarte found moments of peace. But friends witnessed spells — whether over drinks or around certain holidays — when the delightfully rough edges of her persona would momentarily smooth over, her demeanor would quiet and her mind would drift to the past.
Ms. Chaarte suffered a stroke when she was almost 80. She lost the right side vision in both eyes. A few years after that, she experienced complications from a pulmonary embolism. Her health was failing. She relied more and more on her friends.
They took care of her after she was moved to an assisted living facility, shuttling groceries to her house. They would play Skip-Bo, a children's card game, which Ms. Chaarte would punctuate with bursts of profanity, making everyone laugh.
In her final years, she was diagnosed with cancer.
From an article in The New York Times By Andrew Keh
January 7, 2024
Section A, Page 1
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/07/sports/human-burial-pet-cemetery.html
She was born Patricia Lou Bassett in Kansas City, Mo., on Jan. 11, 1928. Her parents divorced when she was a baby, and she was raised by her mother and, later, a stepfather. After graduating from Paseo High School, in Kansas City, with the class of 1944, she moved to New York City, to cultivate her career in illustration.
A talented artist and illustrator, Ms. Chaarte was fired from a job with Hallmark, according to a friend, after designing a holiday card with a pop-up Jesus Christ inside, arms outstretched.
"He is risen," the card read.
She gave birth to a son Dana Brooks Barrett in 1954.
She decided to marry a friend, Abner Chaarte, when Dana was young. She thought, according to friends, that her son needed a father figure in his life. The marriage did not last very long. But the friendship endured, and she kept his last name.
The city provided her a platform to find herself. She only realized well into adulthood, for instance, that she was gay. Around that time, a friend named Wendy Johnson became a love interest, then a longtime girlfriend. The two also became business partners, opening a needlepoint shop on the Upper East Side called 2 Needles.
In the early 1990s, Ms. Chaarte and Ms. Johnson retired and moved to San Miguel de Allende, a picturesque city about 200 miles northwest of Mexico City that had long been a haven for expatriates.
Ms. Chaarte stayed busy in retirement. She became involved with a local animal shelter. She went dancing, with a soft spot for the Glenn Miller Orchestra. She dressed plainly, in slacks and big shirts, but sometimes donned a tuxedo for special events. She stayed engaged with American politics, diligently sending absentee ballots and keeping up with cable news. Once, while watching a segment on President Donald Trump, she threw a coffee mug at her television and shattered the screen.
After the tragic death of her son Dana in about 1970,
In her 60s, she prepared finally to leave New York, the place she had called home for most her life. She would leave her son behind, yet she did not want him to be alone.
So on Jan. 23, 1989, she buried his ashes at Hartsdale Pet Cemetery. He would rest there with two beloved, deceased pets as his companions. Ms. Chaarte's partner, Ms. Johnson, later purchased a plot there, too.
In Mexico, far from the locus of her imperishable pain, Ms. Chaarte found moments of peace. But friends witnessed spells — whether over drinks or around certain holidays — when the delightfully rough edges of her persona would momentarily smooth over, her demeanor would quiet and her mind would drift to the past.
Ms. Chaarte suffered a stroke when she was almost 80. She lost the right side vision in both eyes. A few years after that, she experienced complications from a pulmonary embolism. Her health was failing. She relied more and more on her friends.
They took care of her after she was moved to an assisted living facility, shuttling groceries to her house. They would play Skip-Bo, a children's card game, which Ms. Chaarte would punctuate with bursts of profanity, making everyone laugh.
In her final years, she was diagnosed with cancer.
From an article in The New York Times By Andrew Keh
January 7, 2024
Section A, Page 1
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/07/sports/human-burial-pet-cemetery.html
A talented artist and illustrator, Ms. Chaarte was fired from a job with Hallmark, according to a friend, after designing a holiday card with a pop-up Jesus Christ inside, arms outstretched.
"He is risen," the card read.
She gave birth to a son Dana Brooks Barrett in 1954.
She decided to marry a friend, Abner Chaarte, when Dana was young. She thought, according to friends, that her son needed a father figure in his life. The marriage did not last very long. But the friendship endured, and she kept his last name.
The city provided her a platform to find herself. She only realized well into adulthood, for instance, that she was gay. Around that time, a friend named Wendy Johnson became a love interest, then a longtime girlfriend. The two also became business partners, opening a needlepoint shop on the Upper East Side called 2 Needles.
In the early 1990s, Ms. Chaarte and Ms. Johnson retired and moved to San Miguel de Allende, a picturesque city about 200 miles northwest of Mexico City that had long been a haven for expatriates.
Ms. Chaarte stayed busy in retirement. She became involved with a local animal shelter. She went dancing, with a soft spot for the Glenn Miller Orchestra. She dressed plainly, in slacks and big shirts, but sometimes donned a tuxedo for special events. She stayed engaged with American politics, diligently sending absentee ballots and keeping up with cable news. Once, while watching a segment on President Donald Trump, she threw a coffee mug at her television and shattered the screen.
After the tragic death of her son Dana in about 1970,
In her 60s, she prepared finally to leave New York, the place she had called home for most her life. She would leave her son behind, yet she did not want him to be alone.
So on Jan. 23, 1989, she buried his ashes at Hartsdale Pet Cemetery. He would rest there with two beloved, deceased pets as his companions. Ms. Chaarte's partner, Ms. Johnson, later purchased a plot there, too.
In Mexico, far from the locus of her imperishable pain, Ms. Chaarte found moments of peace. But friends witnessed spells — whether over drinks or around certain holidays — when the delightfully rough edges of her persona would momentarily smooth over, her demeanor would quiet and her mind would drift to the past.
Ms. Chaarte suffered a stroke when she was almost 80. She lost the right side vision in both eyes. A few years after that, she experienced complications from a pulmonary embolism. Her health was failing. She relied more and more on her friends.
They took care of her after she was moved to an assisted living facility, shuttling groceries to her house. They would play Skip-Bo, a children's card game, which Ms. Chaarte would punctuate with bursts of profanity, making everyone laugh.
In her final years, she was diagnosed with cancer.
From an article in The New York Times By Andrew Keh
January 7, 2024
Section A, Page 1
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/07/sports/human-burial-pet-cemetery.html
Inscription
Bassett
Dana Brooks
Patricia
Jackie Paper
Puff the Magic Dragon
Family Members
Sponsored by Ancestry
Advertisement
Advertisement
