I worked in the same department as Jonathan during the academic year, 1994-'95, in the Czech Republic. I have just heard of his passing. Please excuse this belated condolence.
I am writing to relate several stories, if you can call them that, that involve my knowledge of your son. It is my hope that this letter and what I will try to express may bring you greater peace and more specific memories of who your son was to us others, some so far away.
In short, I did not know Jonathan well. Yes, we occupied some of the same classrooms, meeting rooms, and a common kitchen in the hotel where we lived. But we were not close. Jonathan appeared to have a very rich and full life when we were in Liberec, but I was a recluse. I was working on my doctorate and very focused on that when not preparing for my classes. The reasons that brought me to keep some distance from him and others and to work on my own stuff are directly related to my loss, my daughter, just prior to arrival in Europe in 1994. I doubt Jonathan ever knew that, but he might have.
Even though some people do not grow close in close and even closed circumstances, they can interact and share some common experiences. Funny as it may sound, Jonathan's hunger clock was similar to mine, synchronized, you might say. We found each other at breakfast or dinner, often at exactly the same time. Jonathan relished eating and preparing food. He was always on the hunt for a great variety of goods in town to bring to the kitchen and prepare. He made me laugh when he cooked and ate things I wouldn't, or couldn't. I remember smelly fish, whole milk, fatty cheeses . . . and a rice pudding thing he used to make with generous portions of sugar. I ate oatmeal with plain yogurt every morning, but he said he was waiting until he could have brown sugar before he would make it. I don't know if he ever found the brown sugar.
Jonathan lined the tops of our kitchen and food cabinets with the empty beer bottles he, ahem, drained. I never saw him drink to excess, but the housekeepers found his collection to excess, threatening now and again to remove all of the empty bottles, perhaps for the deposits they held. The Czech Republic then and now is a place of meager supply and great demand. Jonathan liked to sample as wide a variety of beer as anyone I have ever known, now and again recommending this one or that telling me and others where he had found the latest. The different beers were not like a conquest, or something, that some college kids proclaim. I just think Jonathan liked tasting all of what life had to offer in this regard. It was a quality he was after, never to my knowledge quantity.
Kitchen conversations were always wonderful with him. He knew a lot about a lot of things I was then studying--philosophy and such. And he and others engaged in friendly and sometimes vigorous discussions. He and Rick used to go on and on. I never participated in these marathons, but could hear from down the hall that, well after dinner, they would still be at it, always with laughter, sometimes music. Jonathan was well informed and educated and articulate. His views were respected.
During my first nights in our hotel, somewhat late, I would hear someone singing accompanied by a guitar. It was only till much later I realized this was Jonathan. His music and song seemed as if from another person from the one I met in passing in the hallways and kitchen. I liked his music very much. So did his students. Now and again I would see him walking from class to class followed, the Pied Piper himself, by a gaggle of students. He was very popular with his students and the Czech staff.
One day he and I were talking in the kitchen, and the matter of missing things came up. I mentioned that I was missing a teaspoon that I had bought, having bought several for the foreigners who used the kitchen but keeping one in my food cabinet for myself. Spoons were a prized commodity in that kitchen. I was washing my dishes at the time, and I heard Jonathan from behind me say that he had taken my teaspoon. I made light of the matter. I admire to this day how he immediately confessed to an error. How different the world would be if we all could confess our errors big and small and learn from them. By his behavior in such a small thing, I could see strength and character.
My dissertation was about extraordinary things that happen to ordinary people. At an early stage of planning this work, Jonathan was going to provide a story of an experience he had had. He told it to me and Rick as we stood outside our building one evening. As my dissertation progressed, it became clear to me that Jonathan's experience did not fit. But what he spoke of and was willing to share, a very personal, visceral experience, I keep with me. I cannot relate the story, just the strong feelings I got as he told it. I thought then and still do now that only especially sensitive people have these intuitions. Jonathan was among the select in this regard, I believe.
I believe also his intuition and his charisma allowed him to travel as he did, to Romania, for example. Travels in this part of the world are not known as particularly easy or safe. He reported he had wonderful times in his travels. I feel that what he was able to communicate without words people respected and liked.
Jonathan and I discussed God and faith and the Bible. I cannot say I agree with him to this day. But we heard each other's differences. He even gently talked me into attending a church service with him one Sunday when he heard I had lost my mother a day or two previously. It was an occasion when he made some remarks to all in attendance, his remarks were very well received, and on his knees he was blessed by the celebrant or leader. I witnessed how much matters of faith and spirituality meant to him. He even reported to me one time about being somehow touched by a higher power during one of the services he attended in Liberec. Perhaps he told you of these things.
On one occasion, again in the kitchen, Jonathan talked of something. I am sorry I don't remember the subject. But I do remember what I, as older but no wiser, said to him and his reply. I told him life was precious, and very short. I think I had a gentle warning tone in my voice. He asked if I really thought it was short. I affirmed I indeed believed so. Because I could not elaborate without disclosing how painfully I knew this, I left the kitchen shortly thereafter and we spoke no more about it. And his apparent surprise at my comment leads me to believe he then knew nothing of my reasons for distance. And for my part, I did not want to spoil the youth and life that is Jonathan and the merriment that characterized the climate at that point.
Looking back I have lots of memories and feelings and thoughts about Jonathan. One I will share with you. With the passing of my daughter and Jonathan, I know it now to be true. God takes the best when they are young.
I hope this and my letter do not offend you in your ways of loving Jonathan. I certainly do not wish to bring you any difficulties by my reflecting and appearing to have answers. I do not have answers, just bits of consolation I can gather for myself. I do not presume you want or need any of these bits. I am just sharing with you and letting you know that I pray for your son, and it is an honor to have known him as I did.
I think the sum is that you can be immensely proud of Jonathan. He left many marks in his short time in the Czech Republic. And if I am any measure of that, one who hardly knew him, then even greater deeds were done by an extraordinary person.
Respectfully,
--composed sometime in 2001
