quotes

Zach did a lot of reading. When he read something that he thought was worthwhile, he made a note of the quote. A year ago I could have told you where his quote files were but now I’d have to look around a bit.

I do have a sheet of paper on my wall with some quotes on it. I don’t remember how it came to be printed. Was it in his effects or did I find it in a file and print it here? It doesn’t have his name on it but I know it came from him. In front of the paper, tacked on the wall, are two photos, taken on the same day. Here is one:

To see the other one you’ll have to go here.

Anyway, here are the quotes. Only one is attributed.

A great person attracts great people and knows how to hold them together.
— Goethe

We are not what we know but what we are willing to learn.

The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery.

People seem not to see that their opinion of the world is also a confession of their character.

We’re not really taught how to recreate constructively. We need to do more than find diversions; we need to restore and expand ourselves. Our idea of relaxing is all too often to plop down in front of the television and let its pandering idiocy liquify our brains. Shutting off the thought process is not rejuvenating; the mind is like a car battery – it recharges by running . . . A playful mind is inquisitive, and learning is fun. If you indulge your natural curiosity and retain a sense of fun in new experience, I think you’ll find it functions as a sort of shock absorber for the bumpy road ahead.

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

Zach’s music

Rose mentioned to me the other day that she was still listening to The Airborne Toxic Event song that Jeremy had posted about last fall. I vaguely remembered it. There’s a link to a video of the song in the post.

I don’t like music videos, even of tunes I like, so I didn’t watch it. Also, the emotional overhead was too much.

But Rose’s comment started me thinking about music that Zach liked. He had a stack of home-brew CDs in his car which I inherited. I remembered them. I had gone through them while we were driving from Baton Rouge to Jeremy’s house during what would be his last summer. Most of them didn’t interest me. In fact, I had a hard time picking out anything I wanted to listen to. Zach was cool, though. He didn’t press anything on me or complain when I found a mash up of Eagles songs to put on the player

I went through them a year ago. I kept a couple. Some were mixes I copied onto my hard drive. A couple were mixes with people’s names on them so I sent them back. The bulk of them I sent on to Jeremy. I did copy some of them and they come up every once in a while on my random playlist.

It’s funny, despite having many thousands of tunes on my hard drive, it’s rare that one comes up that I don’t recognize. When I check, it most often is from that group of Zach’s CDs. Even though the music usually doesn’t move me, it’s a good feeling to have a little connection with Zach through his music.

I bought the Airborne Toxic album with that tune on it this morning. I think I’ll listen to it now.

weekend in Portland

Now it can be told . . .

Actually, I was laughing about it yesterday. I love Mike, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t read this blog. Nevertheless, I was studiously avoiding saying anything about going to Portland because it was to be for a surprise retirement party for him.

It all worked out fine. Mike was surprised and everyone had a good time. I did allow that restriction get me somewhat twisted about writing posts over the last couple of weeks. I hope to catch up this week.

So, Rose’s brother Mike retired. Friday was his last day. He’s the same age as me so I hate him. No, not really, but nowadays I’m a bit jealous of people my age who are retired. I’ve started using the term ‘semi-retired’ to describe myself but it seems that it is more ‘semi’ than ‘retired’.

Well, that’s a post for another day. Rose and I left early Saturday. We had a 6:30 am flight so we were up and left the apartments at 4. Once in Portland, breakfast was a high priority. Rose suggested the biscuit place where we had eaten with Zach and his friend Chris B in 2014. Google eventually revealed that it was Pine State Biscuits so we went there.

The food was fine but being there brought back a flood of memories of Zach. He had come out to California in December then came up to Portland a few days after Christmas to visit Chris. He stayed with us and Mike’s family for a couple of days before going off with Chris. Actually, the breakfast at Pine State Biscuits was the transfer point.

It was my first time back in Portland since that visit so seemingly everything was fraught with memories of Zach. Sitting at those picnic style tables, I actually broke down for a minute. It was at the end of our meal and we shortly after that got up to leave. It wasn’t until I got to the car that I realized I had left my backpack in the restaurant net to the table. Kinda scattered, I was . . .

The back pack was still there and after retrieving it we headed out to visit Mike’s daughter Sarah. She lives on 5 acres just outside of Oregon City with her husband Mike C and their two lovely daughters. Also pigs, chickens, ducks and goats which we all went out to see. Sarah made us deviled eggs from her stock of literally dozens of fresh eggs. Mike and Sarah are not quite self sufficient but they’re close.

Soon other visitors arrived. Sarah’s aunts, Jean and Elaine, had driven down from Bellingham and came over. Then we heard that Mike H was coming. Rose and I hid in a bedroom until he got in the house, then stepped out to greet him. Somehow this was distinct from the surprise party. At this point I was just doing what I was told. Mike had done quite a bit of drinking the night before so he was hungover. He was glad to see us but not trying to hard to connect the dots. Mike and Rose’s brother Steve had come up the night before so I think the story was that there would be a family dinner that night.

After lunch, Rose and I left to check into our hotel and get some rest. The surprise party was at 7 and we were there on time. The bar was open and there was food – what could be better? There were about 40 people there when Mike was brought in by Steve on the pretext of the family dinner. He was gobsmacked so that was good. There were lots of Mike’s work friends there besides family.

The next morning, Rose and I breakfasted at the hotel then went to Mike’s club – he’s an avid golfer – for brunch. His other daughters Caitlyn and Keriann were there along with Caitlyn’s daughter Elliot. Also Sarah with Josephine and Devin so we had the kids corner. I was originally not intending to eat much but changed my mind. It was kind of a lunch. In fact, I didn’t have to eat again until we got to the airport.

Anyway, good food and good conversation. Afterwards we went back to Mike’s house where we mostly just sat around and watched the kids play in the front yard. Josephine set up an imaginary restaurant and went around taking orders from everyone then bringing them their gravel ‘food’. Just like Rosalie!

A good day but eventually it was 4 o’clock and we had to leave for the flight home. There was some problem at SFO so Alaska had to fly us to the San Jose airport then bus us to SFO. There were some silly moments but we got back to SFO about 9:30, about an hour and a half later than it would have been.

I was able to talk to some of the family members about Zach, which was good. I told the Bellingham people about Jeremy’s moving to Washington and promised I would try to get up to see them in July. My angst of the previous week was gone, which was best of all.

Zach on Powder by Jeremy

Jeremy wrote a lovely response to my last post but I want to elevate the meat of it to top billing. Here’s a partial quote:

Zach was quite the cynic when it came to animals. He was a guest in my home probably more often than anyone else in the lifespan of one Powder Lucifer Wood, the kitten I adopted (at Ashley’s behest) in 2006, right before she and I got engaged. Powder got his first name from his snow-white fur, but the middle name is an accurate reflection of his personality, and Zach had a couple of memorable one-liners about his enmity for my cat.
On one visit, when Powder was only a few months old, he was to sleep on a futon in the downstairs (this was prior to Ashley and I moving in together). I offered to take the futon, telling him that the cat sometimes liked to play at night and he said not to worry about it, it wouldn’t bother him.
Late in the afternoon the next day, he looked sideways at Powder, then looked at me and said flatly “You’re sleeping on the futon tonight.”

Another time a few years later, he arrived at our house on Laurel Haven. As Powder often does when strangers enter the house, he greeted Zach with his trademark hiss/growl combination. Zach grinned sardonically and, with perfect aplomb, put on his Sean Connery voice and said “Once again, we play our dangerous game, with our old adversary.” (That’s a line from The Hunt for Red October, one of his and my favorite movies). I went out of my skull with laughter.

bringing it all back

Heading into another SoundBox week, I wanted to make a post today but I’ve been avoiding it. Usually avoiding things involves rummaging around on FaceBook. Jeremy shared a post by the company who did the Z Wood graphic at UREC. They put in a lovely statement:

We didn’t have the pleasure of meeting this young man Zach Wood but judging by those who did, we missed out on knowing a great human being. It was our honor to donate this small tribute to him on behalf of LSU University Recreation (UREC). Life truly is fleeting and we should never take a single day for granted.
Zach never did

Also in the post was a link that I didn’t recognize. It was an article remembering Zach from the LSU newspaper.

It brought it all back.

on the basketball court

I was out today to see my therapist. I came away with some good things to address here which I still hope to do.

Meanwhile, on my way home I got a text from Jeremy. He said Micah sent him this picture from the just redone LSU UREC basketball court.

Thank you, Jeremy. Thank you, Micah. Thank you, everyone at UREC who got this done. I cried the rest of the way home.

email from Jeremy

This came in my email today:

**I apologize if you’re receiving this message through more than one channel. In an effort to reach a lot of people, I’m sending it to as many contacts on Facebook and email as I can think of. I’m sorry if I accidentally doubled up and spammed you.**

Dear family and friends,

I hope this finds you all well. I first and foremost want to thank all of you who have reached out to my family and I to offer support and condolences in the year since we lost our beloved brother, son, uncle, cousin and friend Zach. I’m deeply appreciative for all those who’ve been able to offer support through their own grief. I’m continually amazed at the impact of Zach’s life on so many disparate people.

I’m writing to let you know of a project that’s been in the works for a long time, and am happy to announce it’s finally happening. As most of you know, Zach was a camp counselor at YMCA Camp Greenville in North Carolina for one summer; while the demands of school and life precluded him from returning to work there, the experience impacted him profoundly and he often spoke warmly of his memories there. Last fall, one of Camp Greenville’s backcountry camping shelters was destroyed by a falling tree. With the invaluable assistance of longtime camp director Greg McKee, we’ve arranged to “pick up the slack for Zach” by holding a service weekend at camp in Zach’s memory, with the primary goal of rebuilding the shelter and renaming it “Zeke’s and Zach’s” (the original name of the shelter was Zeke’s Place).

The project will take place the weekend of May 5th through 7th (Friday–Sunday) at Camp Greenville. The very tentative schedule is to rendezvous at camp Friday night, work all day Saturday and hold a remembrance chapel at sunrise Sunday morning at the Pretty Place chapel before we part. We will stay in cabins at camp on Friday and Saturday nights.

I live in Atlanta, and will coordinate travel from there to camp and back for as many people as necessary. Likewise, we will do everything we can to accommodate folks who come from out of town and need a place to stay for an extra night.

I understand that the travel will be untenable for many of you. If you would like to help but cannot make it that weekend, we also need to raise approximately $2,000 for the building materials for the project. Any extra money we raise will be donated to camp’s scholarship fund in Zach’s name.

Please let me know as soon as possible if you will be able to come, or if you’d like to help with a donation. I very much look forward to remembering Zach for a weekend with you. Please contact me at (404)895-5325 or jeremy.wood.820@gmail.com. Also, please forward this message to anyone who I don’t know who would like to participate in Zach’s memory.

Much love,

Jeremy Wood

(not Pretty Place but in the Smokies – 2008)

backpacks

I carry a backpack almost every day. I guess it’s like a woman’s purse. It’s got a lot of stuff in it that I might need: energy bars, ibuprofen, toothpicks, pens, Kleenexes, notepads . . . lots of odds and ends. Each day I add stuff to it that I might need that particular day: tools, lunch, a water bottle, whatever. The one I’ve been using I got at Big 5 about 5 years ago for $12.

Honest, $12 for a new backpack. It’s a little on the small side. That was a feature that I wanted. I had had the experience of having a larger backpack and putting so much stuff into it that I could hardly lift it. Many times during the previous 5 years I had to carry something outside of it or not take it at all.

That was all good, but it was wearing out. Meanwhile, one of the items I inherited from Zach was a nice North Face backpack. It’s really nice – better in almost every way. But I didn’t want to use it.

I had two of Zach’s jackets. I wore them a few times but eventually I gave them to Jeremy, who may or may not keep them. His computer I had for a while and gave to Jeremy. I still have his iPad but I don’t use it. Come to think of it I still have his phone. I still think I’ll get all of his texts off of it someday. I have one of his belts that I use now and then.

I have his dressers – which were mine originally. I’ll keep those. I’ll keep Hobbes. A few other small mementos. And I guess I’ll keep his backpack. I put it into service today. I dumped out everything from mine and put it into Zach’s. As I was apportioning my junk, I found one of Zach’s pens in the backpack. That’ll stay right there. Then later I found another one in a different pocket. That’ll stay there too. But I’ll use the backpack. It should be good for 10 or 15 years at least. My Z . . .

grief cues

The weirdest things snag me sometimes. Some music came up on my rotation and even though I didn’t recognize it, something told me before I even looked that it had something to do with Zach.

He was a big fan of the Pirates of the Caribbean movie music. That’s what it was.

ten thousand hours

I started writing a post about writing and how long it might take for a writer (or anyone else, really) before their writing would be critiqued by anyone other than the writer. I wrote the phrase ‘thousands of hours’ and immediately thought of Malcolm Gladwell. Zach had an infatuation with Gladwell at one time and actually introduced him to me while he was at Xavier.

Gladwell famously posited in his book The Outliers that ‘the key to achieving world-class expertise in any skill, is, to a large extent, a matter of practicing the correct way, for a total of around 10,000 hours.’ The quote is from the Wikipedia article so it may not be completely precise, but it makes my point.

Searching ‘Gladwell’ in my folder of Zach’s journals gets 11 hits. In one of the earliest, he reflects on the 10,000 hour concept which leads into a discussion of another article which leads into his own goals and how he could direct his own learning and development. He says, ‘ . . . one of the great things that I always am trying to improve is my deliberate approach to my own growth . . .’ This was in December 2011, six months after he started working at UREC.

Zach points out that the Gladwell concept was focused more on motor activity but my thought was that it could also apply to writing. Specifically, my own writing, here in this blog. I’m putting in the time, writing something, just to write, in the hopes that eventually I’ll get a result that is more worthwhile. I admit that I’ve become obsessed with the fact that very few readers of this blog are commenting here. I have gotten some nice comments via email and in person but those are somehow not the same. I have to admit that of the probably thousands of books I’ve read, I’ve only sent feedback to the author a handful of times. (Of course this all begs the question as to what is ‘worthwhile’. The act of writing is itself worthwhile to me but I also would like my thoughts to have value for others.)

Early on, the posts seemed to flow from my fingers. Lately they haven’t and it bothers me. I’ll keep trying. Thank you, dear reader, for coming here and getting this far.

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