Thursday, May 12, 2022
/public-file/47223/Ultra/897ad81b-4db2-4dfa-a077-2acf017be0fa.jpg
Jon and I were friends for over 40 years and we spent a lot of time together camping, biking--we bought two of the first few mountain bikes that came to the DC area--hunting, fishing, cleaning up roadsides, and helping each other with our houses. When the world got "real" we were usually the first person the other called. We'd grown apart in later life as our paths diverged, but Jon was such an integral part of who I am and even who my children are. I will miss him terribly. He was always kind, always turning me away from my natural instinct to strike back in anger, and always teaching me to be a better human being. We laughed a lot together and even cried together when we made the coffins for two of Jon's Goldens and when we traveled to the all too early funeral of our biking guru and mentor, Benjamin. It was Jon's idea to have his Golden, Honey Bear, come to meet my daughter after she had been viciously attacked by a neighbor's dog at age 3, and was scared to death of them. It worked, she loves dogs, has owned several, and has always credited Jon with helping her learn to love them. Jon and I played thousands of games of backgammon together, we always wondered who was ahead in the lifetime series. No way to ever know but I know the discussions we had over those games taught me about quantum science, string theory, fractal geometry, and dozens of other subjects and helped shape the person I have become. The world lost a quiet, gentle, warrior for love, understanding, tolerance, science, and most of all just being "kind". I could go on and on but my keyboard is getting too wet. I am so proud to have known Jon and to have called him a friend. The picture above was taken by Jon's sister, Carol, at the first March in Washington against the Iraq War, in October of 2002 (we went to both). It is my wife, myself, and my best friend.
