Other than the loss of my parents, twice in my life, people with whom I was deeply and personally connected, whom I held in high esteem, left my life, and each time a feeling of numbness seated itself somewhere in the region of my solar plexus. As time passed the feeling subsided, but it never totally left. It’s been three days since we received our 25 copies of the September Issue of The I.O., and I was first informed of Don’s passing. I have not yet noticed the subsiding.
Don lived for 46 years but accomplished more than most of us could accomplish in a dozen lifetimes. Surviving as a monument to his accomplishments is the 24 page monthly publication that was his and his equally talented wife Ingri’s passion. Through The I.O., much of their personal life, philosophy and convictions have been revealed to their thousands of readers over the years since its first printing in 1997, thus having inspired an extended worldwide family of closely knit, well informed kindred spirits.
Don, the consummate activist wrote in 2005, after his third year as U.S. Ambassador to an international peace conference in Austria:
“If I have done my job here, we should all be appalled at the condition into which our world has fallen. We should also be encouraged by the actions of many of the people who speak at this conference each year. I personally find my own will to stand up against the machine reinforced by these good people and being a part of this conference helps me to realize there is hope: From every nation, from every religion and from every race there are people who think like we do.
This cannot be by accident. I think that God more or less sprinkled us all over the Earth and has challenged us to stand reverent and strong in the face of a compelling adversary. I think He has also challenged us to figure out how to reach others so that they stand up with us in strength- not shrink away in fear, not continue pretending that everything is fine.”
Thank you Don, for sharing your “joy of life” with us. Your gift to us will never be forgotten…No Matter What.
David Lonier & Glenna Long
Auburn Hills, Michigan