It's been eight years
since my dear brother's last hike, on May 23, 2010. He died along
the trails of Northern Florida in a place he loved, along the Aucilla
River. I was in Ukraine then, and my grief
at the sudden never-expected news knew no bounds. Our sister Andy, living in Tallahassee,
almost fainted in shock when two police officers, in solemn face,
brought her the news.
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| Loren (far left) after a hike with FL Trail Association |
Andy and I always think of
Loren during our over-the-top, unscreened and unfiltered private
(very private) rants against what is happening in our America today.
What would Loren have said? What knowledge, what insights would he have shared? We
miss his views. We believe he would have been on fire if he were here with us. He would have been on the front lines of the Resistance,
prodding us on.
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| Loren, when he lived in Orlando |
I sometimes think I hear
his voice. But he's not on fire. He's calm. He seems to know that things will work out, that our ideals will save us, as they
always have. That the arc of history is toward justice, as MLK taught
us. I hear the voice of compassion and empathy. I see the light
from a lovely soul at peace with himself and the world.
“Hey, you guys I'm fine, but you have work
to do. Don't stop now. The good will prevail. Promise."
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