Will rowed one of the rafts on Lowell's first Grand Canyon trip in 1990 and again when Lowell brought his extended family and friends on a trip in 1997.
December, 2002
Dear Will
I wish I had known about your cancer - Jean and I drove through Flag on November 10, and I would love to have visited with you. No, I'm not laying a guilt trip on you, for not sharing the information- I'm sure in your circumstances, I'd sit on the situation as long as I could, too.
So what can I say to you right now? You are a refreshingly free spirit in a world of people who frequently wouldn't say shit even if they had a mouth full. We've laughed at the same jokes, rowed the same rapids, drunk from the same bottle, and I'm the richer for having done these things with you.
Many mental pictures to talk about, and many memories. A few come to mind.
When we did the Grand Canyon in '97, and before I knew Dave and Alicia would want to do much of the rowing of my boat, I discussed boat sequence for our trip with Pete. He suggested you lead, and I remember saying I'd confidently follow you anywhere on that river.
I remember laughing over the incredible sinking dory that you rowed through big water in Cataract. All of us were laughing... "It's plywood but it will swell up and hold water, any day.." But you had guts enough to row on, not knowing if the damn thing would break up in Cataract, or merely lose the bottom.
Many nights on many rivers passing a bottle around- always laughter, and always an appreciation of the irony and complexity of life. Remember the long discussion of where does the white go when the snow melts?
I've read the e-mails you sent to Pete and others, and I see the humor, guts and independence that are you at this critical fork in the road. These traits will be important in the days ahead. Will, you have enriched my life and many others. Carry on with my love and best wishes.
Lowell
Dear Will,
This is Jean here - I always thought I'd meet you eventually. I've heard so much about you throughout the years that I do feel as if I am already acquainted with you.
Reading your recent e-mails, it seems that you would not be offended if I quoted from an ancient Egyptian lyric verse in which my Mom found great comfort when she was dying from inoperable stomach cancer:
Death is in my mind today
As when a sick man regains his health,
Like rising again after illness.
Death is in my mind today
Like the fragrance of myrrh,
Like sitting in shelter on a windy day.
Death is in my mind today
Like the perfume of lotus blossoms,
Like tarrying at the brim of the winebowl.
Death is in my mind today
Like the retreat of a rainstorm,
As when men return home from the wars.
Death is in my mind today
Like the clearing of the sky,
As when a man grasps suddenly what he has not understood.
Death is in my mind today
Like the longing of a man for his home,
When he has passed long years in captivity.
Will, I am so glad you had all these years with Lowell, and got to know our kids Nina, Dave, daughter-in-law Alicia, Lowell's sister Jane, my niece Laura - they all were impacted by your presence and hearty zest for living.
You are held in the warm light of so many loving thoughts, so many loving friends; many understand that you must do what you must do, and would (and perhaps someday will) shuffle off the mortal coil of life in the same way.
Farewell.....
Jean
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Lowell and David Braxton with Will on the San Juan, July 1993. Photo by Ben Foster.