Fare You Well

Call me morbid, but I am an obit reader. I am always intrigued by these tidy encapsulations of a person's life, as if a few paragraphs can ever fully explain the totality and breadth of our fellow human beings. Every once in a while an obit really hits me, especially the premature death of a child, or when the pain and writing of the bereaved is uncommonly searing or eloquent.

Yesterday I read this Los Angeles Times obituary of a stranger that brought a tear to my eye. I don't think that I ever met this man but he was obviously a brother. What an incredible life! Reading about Jon's passions, I had the thought that I could have been reading about myself, although I do not ski and was never so accomplished. A food person and photographer who spent much of his life like I did, loving the music and fellowship of the long strange trip we took with the Grateful Dead. It is almost like a death in the family.

Jonathan Daniel Hoffman 1952-2011 "Like the morning sun you come, and like the wind you go." Jon Hoffman, 58, devoted father, loving husband and expert skier, died suddenly on March 21 while skiing Strawberry Fields, a double-black diamond run at Sugar Bowl. He was happy, fit and healthy and died with a smile on his face. Known for his outgoing, upbeat personality, Jon was born in Santa Monica and moved frequently as a child between LA, Washington, DC and Paris. He graduated from UCSB in 1974 with a BS in Geology, worked for the US Forest Service, then spent six months traveling in Asia, trekking in Nepal, including a five-week solo expedition to the Everest region. After living in his VW bus with his beloved cat Underfoot, traveling as a ski bum, he entered the University of Montana, Missoula. He got straight A's, skiing 100 days a season at Missoula Snowbowl, earning his MS in Geology in 1980. He settled in Crested Butte, CO, then became a petroleum geologist for Texaco in Boulder and LA. He met his wife, Deborah Mann, at a Grateful Dead show in Ventura, 7/21/84. They married in 1985 and moved from Venice, CA, to Oakland in '87. He was exceptionally close to his children, Ethan and Olivia, and found deep fulfillment as a father. No longer willing to partake in the professional game that he had never been able to reconcile with his life's priorities, Jon left a career as a senior environmental geologist in 2006 and reinvented himself as a remedial math tutor. A gifted teacher all his life who loved to share his knowledge, he touched the lives of many kids, giving them a chance in the educational system they would not otherwise have had. Helping others gave him great happiness. A passionate musician, Jon found joy in attaining presentness through his love of music, particularly the Grateful Dead. Their music provided an ecstatic and deeply emotional connection to reality in its entirety, to his family and to nature. His love of the Grateful Dead imbued every aspect of his life, from his first show, 8/6/71, to his last breath. He always said skiing was like dancing, and was listening to "Dancing in the Street" from 5/12/77 on his iPod when he was apparently struck by a small avalanche and killed instantly. His family is grateful that he did not suffer a single second of pain or fear. Jon's connection to the natural world grounded him and continually reminded him of life's priorities. It is fitting and a great comfort to his family that Jon died with his boots on, doing what he loved, skiing the Sierra, his favorite mountain range. He often skied a secret patch of powder at Sugar Bowl he called The Other One, which will be so-named in his honor. An intrepid adventurer, Jon loved wild places most of all and had an uncanny knack for finding the perfect, most powerful spot everywhere he went, including the Sierra's Dusy Basin and Tunnels Beach on Kauai. He always sought and savored the perfect moment. A gifted photographer, he loved sharing the beauty of his favorite places with others. Jon's passions included cooking, wine, the SF Giants, backpacking and travel. Jon and Deb made romantic trips to France and French Polynesia, and many visits to Kauai with their kids. In the words of Bob Dylan, Jon will stay "forever young," physically and mentally undimmed by the wear of old age. He is survived by his loving wife, Deborah, son Ethan, daughter Olivia, parents Fred and Ellen Hoffman, sisters Andrea Kachuck (Norm) and Jen Bolnick (Dave), nephews Aaron, Samuel, Gabriel Kachuck, Reuven, Natan, Yitzhak Bolnick, Ben Ricketts, niece Meghan Ricketts, sisters-in-law Lisa Ricketts (Rob), Carol and Jennifer Mann. A memorial will be held in May. Donations can be made to the Rex Foundation, Sugar Bowl Ski Patrol or Tahoe Nordic Search & Rescue. "Such a long, long time to be gone, and a short time to be there."               

Jon Hoffman, I salute you. May the four winds blow you safely home.