What the Hell is a Spinjitzu?

Friends, I hope you all had a fun, restful and safe holiday weekend. As for me, the hits just keep on coming: football season is back, Bama mauled Michigan (watched it once live and twice on replay), Birmingham City got their first win, and the boys got to spend some quality time with their grandparents- one with the yankee side of the family in New York, and one with my folks in God’s Own Alabama. In other very exciting Rushing news, I became an uncle again with the birth of Luke Larkin Rushing this past Friday. Fortunately for the child, he appears to favor his mother and not his father. Lastly, In an effort to further connect with own progeny, this weekend I immersed myself in the lore of their latest obsession- Ninjago: Masters of Spinjitzu. My ego has taken a bit of dent as after two days of studying plot lines and characters I’m still not sure I really get it. OK, vacation over, back to business…

A couple of weeks ago, I had occasion to visit an office in Miller Plaza. I noticed that construction in the corner retail space on Market was in full-swing in preparation for a new restaurant. What caught my eye was that work was being performed in the arcade- they had just started so it was difficult to tell what their intent was. (it ended up being a temporary construction barrier). I texted a buddy that I really hoped that the integrity of the arcade was not going to be compromised. His reply was “Don’t be afraid of change…its not sacred”. That brought me back to earth and calmed my nerves a bit because it’s just a building, it’s not sacred, right? That thought stuck with me for a while and I couldn’t shake it. I eventually figured out why- it’s because my esteemed friend was wrong. In my estimation, the place is sacred.

Before we go any further: I have no reason to believe that the space will be anything other than excellent. I know the team of folks involved and they are all top-shelf professionals- they will do a great job. This post is no way a commentary on their work. As for my friend who said it wasn’t “sacred”, my apologies to him for taking his text out of context as an excuse for a blog post.

It should go without saying that different people have reverence for different things and concepts. In this instance, as a Chattanoogan, a downtowner, and a lover of architecture and design, Miller Plaza is sacred ground to me. As with most sacred things, it is not necessarily the object that is precious, it is the more intangible qualities, concepts and history that it represents that are important. Miller Plaza and the Waterhouse Pavilion are fantastically designed pieces of architecture that are well constructed. It is not, however, the brick, the stone, the roofline or the landscaping that set the place apart. This is one of the rare works of the profession that has transcended its material and formal aspects to become the embodiment of a higher concept.

The grim condition of our downtown in the late 70’s and early 80s is well documented. Also well documented is the fact that at the same time and number of efforts were launched to revive the city. In 1982, UTK architecture students at the Design Studio began investigating urban design interventions in the center of the city to reestablish a “heart” for downtown. On a simultaneous track, an effort was afoot to expand Miller Park north, across MLKing Boulevard. The work of the students and the observations of the Studio convinced decision-makers that the expansion needed to be a hardscaped plaza, rather than another grassy lawn. In his speech at the AIA conference earlier this summer, Rick Montague recalled the Design Studio Director’s thoughts: “You don’t want to build more park at the city’s heart; it will become a hole in the urban fabric. It wants to be a plaza – not a park – with a hard, urban edge, and a gateway to the M. L. King district positioned precisely where the historic grid of the city meets the modern grid. The whole district should be built under design guidelines as a room in the city, using a vocabulary to be taken from the outstanding historic structures – the Volunteer State Life Building and the Federal Courts and Post Office. It will become a vibrant heart of the city.”

Design Guidelines were indeed crafted and the work was performed by Koetter, Kim & Associates in conjunction with the Design Studio. Koetter, Kim is a Boston firm led by Fred Koetter, the former Dean of Yale’s architecture school and co-author of the excellent book Collage City. As a proof of concept exercise, five national and international architecture firms were engaged to interpret the guidelines and provide a vision for what the district could become- Koetter, Kim and Associates, Skidmore Owings and Merril, Peterson Litternberg, Tuck Hinton Everton, and Robert Seals. The work was written about in the New York Times and the guidelines received a number of awards including a Progressive Architecture citation (a big deal). This project vaulted sleepy ole downtown Chattanooga into the national spotlight of architecture and urbanism.

The work put us on the map in the architecture world, but it served a greater purpose. The philosophy behind the design and the quality of the work expressed the aspirations of the community. If that project were undertaken today, I’m not sure most people would bat an eye. But undertaking those steps, engaging that level of talent, and building to that level of quality was an audacious move in the mid-80s. That is to say nothing of the fact the project was about the public realm and had a district focus- unheard of in the South at the time. Miller Plaza is more than a community gathering place, it is a statement about the values of the community. It is more than a park with an arcade, it is a blueprint for urban intervention. Miller Plaza is more than a piece of architecture, it is a symbol of the rebirth of our city. With that understanding, the building is still just a just a building. It is not precious, and as with all things man-made it is impermanent. If Miller Plaza were gone tomorrow, life would go on. However, it is our appreciation and understanding of the history of our built environment that gives meaning to the city. This is why we love downtown- there is a communal history and meaning here that enriches our lives.

It is our responsibility to future generations of Chattanoogans to be good stewards of the places we inherit and to transmit the histories that imbue those places with meaning. It is also our task to create our own history and meaning by building anew and adapting our inheritance. You will definitely find me at the new restaurant in Miller Plaza when it opens. To find out where you will not find me dining, tune in next week.

Smells Like Civic Spirit

Back in my undergraduate days at UNM I was a big Nirvana fan. I wasn’t a massive, travel-the-country-to-see-them fan, but I really enjoyed the music. When Cobain died in ’94, I was distraught and proceeded to play their catalogue back to back to back for some time. After a period of weeks, a fraternity brother paused in my doorway and said “Let him die, bro”, then moved along. That is to illustrate that sometimes when I feel strongly about something, I have a hard time letting it go. This week, I’m having a hard time moving on from the Urban Design Challenge.

As you may know, last week the sun set on the Urban Design Challenge. More than 450 of us showed up for the Grand Finale (Four – Fif - Tee!). It is quite clear that the community has a massive appetite for issues of urbanism and design. There is a part of me that wants to move on to new pastures and write about some other concepts I’ve been toying with. The blog, however, is about urban design in Chattanooga and the UDC is the biggest news in that universe since Stroud got the sack. 

The Challenge has been my primary focus for over a year. The process has been the most interesting and fulfilling public process I’ve ever had the good fortune of being associated with. I’ve been trying evaluate my feelings about the past year, and if I had to distill my emotions and describe them in a word, it would be pride. This pride, however, is unrelated to self. For this week’s blog, I offer you a list of things and people I’m proud of.

I’m proud of Kim White and River City Company. Their job is economic development- to develop property and to attract investment in downtown. It is not their responsibility to convene and facilitate the community conversation on urban design. To her eternal credit, Kim recognized that no one else was taking responsibility for this vitally important task and she tackled it with style and aplomb. 

I’m proud of our philanthropic community. The Lyndhurst, Benwood, and Maclellan Foundations were equal partners in making the UDC possible. I’m proud of the fact that our foundations embrace collaborative efforts, and that they each had the vision to make a significant investment in an untested and impermanent process.

I’m proud of Ann Coulter. From initial concept until the lights went down on Thursday, she worked tirelessly. Her instincts and insights were, without fail, spot-on throughout the process.

I’m proud of the Dynamic Density team. They only had about five weeks to pull together their project, they had arguably the most difficult site, and they produced a thoroughly professional response. Their work set a high bar for each of the remaining teams.

I’m proud of the Big Gig. Facing the challenges of time and the “blank slate”, they created a project that had the rare quality of being imaginative and artful while retaining the feel of a project that one could easily visualize being built.

I’m proud of Method E5. On a deceptively difficult site they produced a multifaceted, multilayered plan that was respectful of the past while projecting a vision of the future that is aspirational, inclusive and artistic.

I’m proud of Elemi+. Given the choice of taking the wide and easy road or navigating the narrow path, they put their marbles on the table and took a stand on principle. Beyond the sensationalism of the TDOT drama there is a nuanced and thoughtful concept for improving our most auspicious gateway into downtown.

I’m proud of the whole Idea Channel crew. By redefining the problem and being ever mindful of the fact that small, incremental interventions can lead to real change, they deftly presented a vision that is both visionary and attainable.

I’m proud of the HKA/Artech/BWSC team. When we received the letters of interest, I was blown away that two of the highest profile firms in town would partner. The high-level work that the team produced is a sterling example of that famous Chattanooga maxim: “working together works”.

I’m proud of the community. What other city in the South (or country for that matter) could consistently draw 200+ people for a series of urban design presentations?  Four-Fif-Tee for the finale, and we didn’t even have to use free beer to do it. Remarkable. Chattanooga is a special place with a special spirit that is shared by special people. If we could only get a decent Chinese takeout downtown we would be perfect.

I’m proud of the entire process. I was fortunate to be able to spend some time with each of the jurors during their couple of days here. It was incredibly gratifying to hear them gush about the high level of work the teams produced. These are people who are not easily impressed, but without exception they expressed admiration for what the community has accomplished. As with the vast majority of the good work done here over the past thirty years, the Urban Design Challenge owes its success to partnership and collaboration.

The toughest part of the process for me has been to answer the oft-asked question of “what’s next?”. I have to admit I’m not exactly sure- I’m not sure anyone is. I am confident that something will come out the Urban Design Challenge, but even if nothing else transpires, the community is better off for having gone through in the process. I will do my level best to move on next week and write about something else- but I’m not sure I’m willing to let it die, bro.

Fin.

Ahhh, deep breath. An amazing and grueling summer sets this weekend with the boys imminent return to school. This has been arguably the most hectic 3-month period in my life (in a virtual dead heat with the fall of 2002). Here are some highlights of the past few months: I traveled to Iowa twice, Florida twice, and Montgomery three times, my grandmother died, my wife had surgery and a subsequent July 4th trip to the emergency room (she’s back to normal now), I had an endoscopy, I finished design and drawings for a house in North Chattanooga, I pulled together the Design Studio Retrospective, my wife bought a new car when I wasn’t looking, I took the family on vacation, and last week I whisked boys away for our first trip to The Lost Sea in Sweetwater, TN. Over the course of the summer, however, most of my attention has been devoted to the Urban Design Challenge.

Some of us were more excited than others.

In the spring of 2011 in celebration of their 25th year in business and on the heels of projects that shall not be named, River City Company endeavored to undertake a public process to re-energize the community conversation about downtown. When we were brought on to help craft this yearlong “something” there was no way of knowing the impact that the process would have. I had a gut feeling that there was pent up demand for a community discourse on urban design issues- the first couple of months of this blog hinted at that. If you would have told me then, however, that we would get more than 200 people at each of the presentations I doubt I would have believed it.

If the goal of the Urban Design Challenge was to re-energize the conversation regarding urbanism and design, then the process can only be considered an overwhelming success. Hundreds, if not thousand of people have participated in the process- in the flesh. The in-person, on-site nature of the UDC was not an accident, it was very much by design. The decision was made that a robust and energetic conversation could best be established by convening those concerned in the same place to socialize with one another and to have the shared experiences of each of the presentations. There is no doubt that digital augmentation of real-world events is a powerful tool that is here to stay. It is my firm belief, however, that people putting forth the effort to attend an event with others who have made a similar commitment creates stronger bonds. Indeed, the defining characteristic of the UDC was the almost palpable level of energy and excitement at each of the presentations- these were no mere public meetings.

(Massive shout out to Brad Shelton at Accendo Studio for his
great photography through the UDC Process)

Beyond that, the Challenge was designed to propose visions and spark conversation, not necessarily to impact real-world projects. The process, however, has done just that. The most obvious example of real-world influence is the US-27 project. Who knows how that will eventually play out, but the fact that a small band of architects and interested citizens can influence an $80 million State transportation project is nothing short of amazing. Beyond that, word on the street is that UDC proposals have influenced potential developments at 700 Block, the Haney Block, The John Ross Building, the chicken plant and Patten Parkway. Of course, only time will tell what impact the UDC work will have on the city, but my hunch is that we’ll look back at this as a watershed moment as it relates to how we build the city.

Frankly, I have been jealous throughout the process. My friends and colleagues got the opportunity to put teams together and perform the work of the challenge, while I was stuck holding a microphone. While not being able to perform the work was difficult, it has been great fun to serve as a liaison with each of the teams and get to see the behind the scenes work from each of the teams. Without exception, the teams produced top shelf work. It is truly remarkable to see what these teams of architects produced. They were given BLANK SLATES and rather to go the stereotypical route of creating signature architectural statements, every team produced a work of urban design that focused on the public realm. The work is a credit to our professional community.

The Urban Design Challenge is the most fun and fulfilling public project I’ve had a chance to be associated with. By any metric, River City Company’s Urban Design Challenge has been an unqualified success. If you’ve made it out to any of the presentations, you know of what I speak. If you’ve missed them, you can catch up on content at http://www.urbandesignchallenge.com. We all have one last event to attend- The Grand Finale. Thursday night at 5:30 at Track 29 our thirteen-month odyssey comes to a close. I greatly anticipate the week’s festivities, however, I will be gutted to see it end.

Napoleon Complex

Well friends, I’ve been a bad, bad blogger and let another week pass. You find me this week at Seagrove Beach on a much-needed vacation. It is a great joy to bring my family back to the place I vacationed when I was but a young C.Rush. Although it is great fun for me, I suspect that the boys are tired of hearing me describe the battlefield of the Great Bottle Rocket Battle of 19 and '82, and are weary of listening to the story of the time I busted ass on the diving board, knocked myself out and my dad had to save me from drowning (which, I suppose, is to his credit).

Long-time readers of the blog will recognize this as the time of year that I typically get off on a Seaside/New Urbanist tangent.  Well, here we go again. The last few months I've been having an internal debate about ideal ways of creating density. Of course, there is no right or wrong answer to the question and the answer ultimately depends on context, but it's been fun to think about. 

Underlying the question is the fundamental recognition of the importance of density. I write often about the fact that density is part of the DNA of downtown and a fundamental condition for the functioning of a healthy city core. Accommodating more people and activity on any given square foot of land downtown means that land elsewhere can be given over to farmland, recreation or conservation. People and activity in close proximity also make pedestrianism a viable option. Walking, of course being the most preferable means of human transportation- it requires no machine storage (parking lots, bike racks, etc), no fossil fuel consumption, and minimal land for circulation (no roads, airports, train stations, etc). Walking, of course, has its limitations, but the denser a place is with essential activities of life, the more sense it makes.

The question concerns the best way to establish density- on one end of the spectrum is the modernist notion of the tower in a park, on the other end is a district of multiple structures of (more or less) uniform height.

The tower is an obvious way to establish density from a dwelling unit per acre standpoint- a small footprint is established, then units are stacked atop one another until the laws of physics or finance intervene. I’ve been enamored with this concept from the first time I saw Mies’ and Corbu’s drawings in architecture school- beautiful, simple, awe-inspiring buildings where people could live, work and be entertained. The footprint of the towers was small (in Corbu’s case miniscule due to his use of pilotis), which meant that the natural landscape around the tower could remain virtually untouched. This was a profound and beautiful response to the often-appalling conditions of the inner city after the industrial revolution.

Another attempt at making a city more sanitary and liveable was undertaken in Paris. The Second Empire reforms of Napoleon III and Baron Haussmann were aimed at modernizing what was still, in essence, a medieval city. Among the myriad initiatives were improvements in infrastructure and public space and implementation of the straight, wide(r), streets that city is known for, and a building height limit of about 60 feet. There are a thousand different aspects of that work that could be analyzed, but for the purposes of this post, let’s leave it at building height restriction. I find it quite remarkable that a city of millions can be built with a 60’ height limit- and that the same is on the short list of the greatest cities in human history.

So, you might ask, what the hell has this to do with Seaside? Let me go mix another tequila and I’ll make the connection after the jump...

Tower.

Not a tower.

From where I sit, I can look off to the east and see several towers- primarily residential, but with some mixed-use components. Off to the west I can discern the silhouettes of the Seaside pavilions. Both of these places are dense, however, they achieve this density in markedly different ways. The towers...are towers, while Seaside is a clustered village of similarly-scaled buildings of 2-4 stories. Having driven past the towers in the past, they look like nice and well-maintained, but do not look a likely candidate for shopping, dining, or people-watching. Seaside, on the other hand, is well known for its exuberant street-life. Perhaps this is not a fair comparison, since I’ve cherry-picked the examples from my beach chair. The example does, however, underscore a point that Ricard Florida toyed with a couple of weeks ago (on Christian-mas, no less). That point is that density can be a dual edged sword. Density, if properly executed, will result in rich and rewarding built environments that contribute mightily to quality of life and economic development. Density, if not properly executed, results in vapid, monotonous developments whose only benefit over the sub-urb is that it uses less land.

In my estimation, the ideal height for development in our downtown is about four stories.  This uniform, moderate height would provide a more fertile ground for social interaction,  increase opportunity for broad economic development, increase land value and result in more efficient buildings. If I were to advocate for design guidelines (which I do not), I would set a height limit at five stories. Less than five stories is too onerous and more than five negates the advantages outlined above. I think the next step for downtown is to generate the type of across the board density that would make more retail development feasible (I'm not talking boutique shoe stores for the tourists, I'm talking convenience store, theater, grocery store, laundry, bodega, restaurant, bar- all of the little things that make it possible to live, work and play in the city). The towers we have are fine, they serve a purpose for our city and I hope they do well. The city has other needs, however, that can be met in other ways. I'm not sure that I'm any closer to figuring our which of the philosophical alternatives I prefer for increasing density, but in our current situation, it seems that the city would benefit from a general and uniform densification.

Sincerest apologies for the ramble, but the Florida sun has addled my meager brain, and as you know I’m a bit out of practice. I’m back in the saddle now and with any luck the weekly routine is hereby reestablished.

Back at it

Friends, I offer my sincerest apologies for missing the past couple of weeks. I tried to try to keep it rolling, but had a couple of projects that conspired to steal my writing time. Things are settling down a bit, so I’m back at it. For the record, I’m bailing on the Pink Floyd tribute, for now (if you have a serious problem with that let me know and I’ll reconsider).

As you may know, the big project I’ve been working is the Design Studio Retrospective. (If you don't know, now you know, know, know, know). The Retrospective takes a look back at more than 20 years of urban design and visioning for downtown Chattanooga. Over the spring and summer of this year, I canvassed the community and reached out to studio alums to assemble as much of the work that the studio produced as possible. The primary product of that effort is an online archive. The secondary product is an exhibition of outstanding examples of the work that is being put on display in my favorite building. The exhibition follows the work of the Studio as it progressed from general downtown structure studies to work on some of Chattanooga’s most beloved places. The exhibition also features an interactive connection to the complete archive of work. The website is now live and can be found at www.chattanoogastudio.com. If you're not from 'round here, be sure to go to the "retrospective" page and download the ibook for you iphone or ipad- it's almost good as being there. If you are from here, you can still download it, but you have no reason for not actually being there.

One of the things that Stroud taught was that all of our work should “respect the past, reinforce the present and predict a future. By its nature a retrospective is a look back at something that happened in the past- I had that part covered. One of the things I struggled with during the process was how to make a retrospective relevant to the present and pertinent to the future. I really believe that what has been put together is more than simply a history project.

If we consider the present in regard to urbanism and design in our community, the big deal going is River City Company’s Urban Design Challenge. The overwhelming support of and participation in the process is evidence that the community values civic dialogue on issues of urbanism and design. It seems to me that the retrospective could be considered a 20 year long urban Design Challenge with hundreds of team members and all of downtown as the site. Chattanooga has been incredibly fortunate to have had an influx of young (and not so young) creative and engaged transplants over the past decade or so. Due to the ignoble demise of the Studio, many of our new neighbors have no clue about the high level of work that was necessary to create the city that we enjoy today. In those regards, the retrospective has relevance in the present.

A couple of concepts stood out during my research, and I hope that these are things that come across to those visiting the exhibition. The first is that downtown didn’t just happen. When we go to nightfall and have a great time, enjoy a stroll around the riverfront, enjoy a meal in an outdoor space, or go home to our neighborhoods in the Southside, it’s easy to take those things for granted. The reality is that virtually everything we enjoy downtown- especially as it relates to the public realm- is the result of years of planning, sketching, design, debate, and hard work. Great places (especially in America) are the result of careful thought, design and planning.

The other thing that stood out has to do with time. The big maneuvers in downtown: Miller Plaza, Ross’s Landing, the Southside, and the river’s edge, all took at least a decade from the initial concept until completion. (That’s fast, by the way). The issue with that timing is that it cycles very differently from political cycles, funding cycles, and often community attention spans. I think the exhibition highlights the importance of having “something” that is a stable long-term steward of community vision. This “something” has to be a place of common ground, and a place where ideas have time and space to gestate. Without this function, the city develops in an ad hoc, piecemeal way that shortchanges greater possibilities. By highlighting these considerations and interjecting them into the civic dialogue, the retrospective projects a future.

The Retrospective will be open until late October and will be open to the public from 10 a.m. until 2 p.m. Monday-Thursday. As mentioned earlier, it can be found in the Citipark building at 831 Chestnut Street. Invite a friend, come out and have a look, and make sure you find me and say hey.

5. Money

So, where were we? Ah, yes, track five of the urban design blog tribute to Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. To be honest, this tribute is in many ways like the album itself- now that I’m about halfway through I’ve realized that the idea of doing it is great, but the process of doing it is somewhat long and arduous. I am going to do my best to stay the course, but I know that there will be at lease one more interruption before this gets closed out – stay tuned.

Money- it makes the world go ‘round, and the love of it is the root of all evil. Much has been said and written about the shift in global wealth to a very few who are very rich. With the upcoming elections we’ll hear more about those with money exerting their influence over the process. Those points merit discussion. This post, however, addresses the more positive aspects of money as it relates to the development of downtown. Money is a key component in downtown and one could argue that money is the reason that downtowns exist. The opportunity for trade and commerce are key reasons that people locate in close proximity to one another. Trade, commerce and exchange are good and necessary activities that we all engage in (unless you live on a farm, grow your own food, make your own clothes, provide your own healthcare, make your own tools, etc, etc.)  A functioning downtown will facilitate commerce for the ultimate benefit of the citizenry.

Private sector entities invest downtown in order to provide goods and services to their customers. Investments are made by the public sector to enable the private sector to operate. Public investments also create a public realm that encourages people to inhabit the city and facilitates the interchange between buyers and sellers. For instance, when we suggest streetscape, it’s not just because trees are nice. A well-defined streetscape hierarchy provides visual cues to potential customers about where they can engage in different types of commerce. A well-designed and well-maintained streetscape increases the perceived quality of the stores on the streets, thereby inducing customer visits. Trees and street furniture can make a walk down the street more viable and comfortable and increase the amount of time potential customers spend in proximity to the businesses.

The key for all parties involved is to create situations whereby a dollar invested generates multiple dollars in return. The community needs to make sure that we leverage our investments to induce more investment and to create wealth. When the public sector invests in infrastructure, it should be done so in a way that results in a tax base that goes beyond merely covering the cost of the expenditure and results in revenue generation.

I’m working with a client in the Midwest to assist in the revitalization of their community. My client’s mission is to serve the entire community, but the have engaged me to focus on downtown. While my recommendation is clearly self-serving, I have been pitching them the concept that money they invest in downtown will have a far greater impact than money spent on projects in the ‘burbs. For example, a 240 linear foot infrastructure project (lets keep the streetscape theme going- sewer, lighting, sidewalk, trees) downtown will service at least a dozen different businesses. The same 240 linear feet in the outskirts of town might serve two. Of course, that’s not an apples to apples comparison because of things such as taps and curb cuts. It does, however, highlight the fact that investments made where there is an existing concentration of activity will have greater impact for a larger number than investments made trying to service one or two entities.

This topic is one that warrants a much more in depth post. Perhaps in the future I will return, but for now, I’m spent (get it?). I will, however, leave with you with a link to a money-centric article that has me looking forward to the fall.

Good bye, Baba.

Friends, this week we are taking a break from the Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon tribute. There will be no urban design talk this week.  While I was in Iowa last week I received the news that Baba had passed away. I made my back to the scenic city, corralled the family and we made our way down to God’s Own Alabama for the funeral. Baba and I were quite close. I am very sad, but she lived a long, full life and she’s with me every day.

This week instead of writing the blog, I wrote a brief eulogy that I delivered graveside. This is yet another occasion where my deficiency as a writer is on display. I simply can’t find the words to adequately express my feelings about the woman, or the impact that she had on my life. During the service, I wasn’t able to hold it together as well as I would have liked. Baba, however, knew all about my tendency to get emotional, so I doubt she would have minded. This is what I tried to deliver at the service:

Some time ago when Baba’s hearing started to fail Mom took her to see the doctor. The following exchange occurred:

Doctor: “Ms. Britton, we need to get you some hearing aids.”
Baba: “Hearing aids? Why do I have to wear hearing aids?” 

Doctor: “Because you’ve only got about 30% of your hearing left”

Baba: “That’s fine, I only want to listen about 30% of what people say anyway.”

In honor of her respect for brevity, I will try to be succinct.

To fully explain Baba’s impact on my life would take a full 39 years. She manifests herself in my most fundamental nature. Some of the great joys in my life have to do with learning new skills and figuring out how to do things. This is a direct result of what Baba taught me – she taught me to sew, to cook, to use tools, to can fruits and vegetables, and to garden. The things that she taught me are in many ways my defining characteristics. She is now gone and I will miss her. But while she is not longer with me physically, she is alive every time I use my sewing machine, every time I cook, every time I’m in the garden, every time I give my boys a kiss.

But beyond skills, she taught me something greater about life through her own example. After Big Luke passed when I was two, Baba quite literally devoted the rest of her life to providing for the well-being of Andrew, Luke and me. Her time, her resources – both financial and emotional, her thoughts and her focus were all spent to ensure that we were taken care of physically and emotionally.

Jesus set the example for how we should live our lives. He lived a life characterized by unconditional love, selflessness and sacrifice in the service of others. In my life I have not encountered another soul who more ably and consistently personified those characteristics than Baba. There is no higher praise I can give another human being.

Rest in peace Baba, I love you.