While some knew him as Jonah and others as Mac, we all loved and respected him. And we miss him dearly.

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Gotta Fly

When Jonah was 13 years old, much like any other kid his age he had some difficulty fitting into the world, a struggle pretty common to 7th grade kids all making the journey from childhood to young adulthood. Jonah was such a bright, funny, caring guy; we had every confidence he’d make it through just fine … if we could all just hang on.

Wildwood, NJ
August 2008

“Hanging on” became a literal boost for Jonah when some friends sent us a couple of kites to enhance our annual end-of-summer fun in Wildwood, New Jersey, where we’d spend 3-4 days on the beach, boogie-boarding, building sandcastles, and watching dolphins. We wondered, however, if our not terribly athletic family would be able to figure out how to get a kite airborne.

We needn’t have worried because Jonah was on the case. He’d always wanted to be a jock but lacked the role models (sorry, kid) to ever become really good at a sport. He’d tried basketball, softball, and even curling, without much success. Nature, however, wants a kite to fly and will lend a windy “hand” to make sure it does. Late afternoons in Wildwood saw Jonah down on the beach successfully launching those kites skyward. And while it isn’t the most vigorous of sports, it feels great to almost lose sight of a kite you put wa-a-a-y up there, and Jonah loved that. You could see it all over his face, the contentment and pride this 13-year old felt at getting something so wonderfully right.

Club Med
April 1993

Years earlier, when Jonah was three, we spent an idyllic week with Ellen’s parents in the Bahamas (at Club Med Eleuthera, destroyed by Hurricane Floyd in 1999). Grandpa Jake had brought his own hand-made kite and felt as if he himself had been lifted heavenward as his daughter’s two little children joined him in the untethered joy that comes with loosing oneself from earth’s gravitational pull.

And so our little boy learned the principles of aerodynamic adventure. In time, he’d no longer need the kite. His life would climb all on its own  to exalting, and ever-remembered, heights.


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