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Jon Grabowski Obituary
It was a love story that began at a bagel shop in Maryland, over a conversation about Plato. Jon Grabowski, a student at the University of Maryland, managed to make sense of philosophy for the woman he later married, Erika Lutzner, a classmate and coworker at the bagel store, when her professors could not.
He was enigmatic, devilish, selfless "too smart for his own good," ‹ as she wrote in his eulogy ‹ and he could always make sense of the world, of himself, of her, she said. His friends and colleagues said that too, in interviews and memorial e-mails filled with recollections of his wry wit, helpfulness and deep love for his wife, a chef.
Mr. Grabowski, 33, was vice president for technology information at Marsh & McLennan, a job in the World Trade Center that he had begun only a week before the Sept. 11 terrorist attack.
Mr. Grabowski and Ms. Lutzner were together for 12 years. He won her over during their second week of dating, when he brought her Tylenol and orange juice after she came down with the flu.
"I felt like we were one soul," she said. "Plato wrote about searching for your other half. Jon was my other half."
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Memories and Condolences
for Jon Grabowski
Hope Lang
September 11, 2024
Always remember never forget!
P
November 23, 2023
Haven't forgotten you, Jon.
Melody Goss
September 13, 2023
I'll never forget...
Joanne Cassidy
September 11, 2018
June~
It is 17 years, today, and "YEP, some people DO READ" and have always read! I am one, and I don't even know you! Your notes are sooo moving and heartfelt!
I finally found the nerve to tell you! I follow any/all Jon-Erika Grabowski updates. Maybe because I'm an old Mom-17 years older, with my four children, not babies anymore, seventeen years older, entering the next stage of their lives, moving away and beginning the next stage of their lives, like Jon and Erika.
I just remember that sad day, holding my husband's hand, walking to the Apartment in NYC where Jon's Memorial was held. Seeing his parents walking alongside us at times on the street, not knowing who they were. I was introduced to many people that day, probably even you, but as a Mom of Sons and Daughters (2 each), I wondered how Erika's parents were going to handle their daughter as her life went on? How to comfort their baby after such a terrible loss to her life? To me, there were no words, no arms that were large enough to keep her safe. What could Jon's parents be going through-I couldn't imagine, and I still can't imagine to this day. I say a little prayer for you all, even after all these years...
Joanne Cassidy
September 11, 2018
THINKING OF YOU TODAY!
Jon was so loved, by my husband, Chris Cassidy. Chris was taken back by JON'S SPIRIT and knew Jon was that "once in a lifetime" unique person that so many people are never privileged to ever meet during their journey in this world! Jon's Memorial in NYC was one that I will never forget! Such sadness to a couple that didn't deserve it! To this day, Jon is always close in ❤ and thought. What a sweet couple the Grabowskis were. All those late nights after work, where Chris missed his train back home to Philadelphia and kept our little family waiting because you guys were just hanging out-- talking --I'M GLAD YOU BOTH HAD THAT TIME TOGETHER! 'TIL WE ALL MEET AGAIN, Rest peacefully!
Diane
September 11, 2018
I didn't know Jon. 16 years ago, on the first anniversary, I received his name on a paper heart to wear during a memorial concert in California. I've kept his name inside my choir folder, and often think of him and his family, his friends and loved ones. I sing you peace and love and comfort and healing. May eternal light shine.
Richard Grabowski
September 11, 2018
See you on the other side.
June Coleman Magrab
September 13, 2016
My Dear Jon,
Fifteen years. It doesn't seem possible. I still burn candles and think about you all the time. I wonder what you'd look like now. Probably still slim, curly-headed and blonde. Maybe some grey in your hair by now also. Sometimes I forget and still hear your voice in my ear saying "whew" or something so very familiar. One doesn't get used to a loved one being dead. My parents died and although I miss them still and always will, they were not thirty-four years old when they died. And they were not murdered. They died in the order of how life is. And you, dear Jon, you died so out of order. Those of us who love you cannot get over it. I just hope, that wherever you are, you are in a place that is peaceful and you are all right. I don't really believe in that kind of stuff but I hope that the believers are right and you are o.k. I don't know when I'll write again. Sometimes it was all the time and then years slip by and I don't write. But I shall again. Be fine, dear Jon. Erika is o.k. She will never get over it. But she is coping. For this year, 2016, I'll say goodbye for now. Will check in again another time. All my love, hugs, etc. june
September 11, 2016
Jon, where has the time gone? Here we are another year older, another year removed from that horrid day that took your life and that of thousands of others. We all miss you still. Take care up there & know that your family & friends will never forget...till next year...
Hope Lang
September 11, 2016
I woke up this morning Jon feeling emotional but not really knowing why. Then i opened Facebook and i realized another year has passed. Many of our classmates have been to your memorial in New York. From the pics it is an amazing site but should have never happened. It does not matter how much time has passed we will never forget.
Debra Breister
September 11, 2015
Well Jon, another year has passed, and we all still think of you. I was in NYC last spring and went to the memorial so I could find your name. It was beautiful, and I cried. I know that your family & friends would all rather have you here on this earth rather than a name on a memorial wall. But, here we are, yet again leaving messages that you won't see. Goodbye Jon, till next year...
Hope Lang
September 11, 2015
Another year has gone by Jon and it still feels like yesterday that this happened. I know you are watching over your family and friends trying to tell us you are ok and not in pain. It seems the living continue to hurt when we need to try and heal. The memory will never fade and we will never forget.
September 10, 2015
Of all the people I'd have never expected to be bonded to until the end of my life, you'd be at the top. We all still miss you. A lot.
Sh. Kinoshita
September 10, 2015
God Bless You
September 10, 2015
s. Kinoshita
September 10, 2015
God Bless You
LuAnne Holjes
September 11, 2014
God Bless you Jon.
Hope Lang
September 11, 2014
Another year goes by and we will never forget. 13 years now... I have reconnected with so many friends from school via Facebook since then. I know you would have been on there with great stories and sharing your life with the rest of us. For now we know you are safe and can tell us those stories when we meet again one day
CC. Philadelphia, PA
June 5, 2014
JON GRABOWSKI ~ you've touched a life, like no other! You will always be "the MAN"!
You're are always in thought!
Debra Breister
September 11, 2013
Another year has gone by since that horrific day, September 11, 2001. You are still remembered and missed by us all - that will never change. God bless you, Jon. Until next year...
Tammy Korosec
September 11, 2013
There isn't a year that goes by that Jon and his family are not on my mind and in my heart. I pray that they have found peace and healing. Jon will not be forgotten.
Hope Lang
September 11, 2013
Hi Jon... I try and check in every year on this day. I still cannot believe it has been 12 years. You will always be missed.
LuAnne Smith Holjes
September 10, 2013
I remember you today, 30+ years later, with many fond memories. May you rest easy with God and your sweet baby sister.
Debra Breister
September 11, 2012
Jon,
Has it really been 11 years? You are missed every day, every year by your family and friends. What a senseless tragedy to have taken you from us. We will never forget you.
LeAnne Jensen-Fontaine
September 12, 2011
Think of you every year, wow how proud of you we all are.
Leona Lopez
September 11, 2011
I was given Jon's name as part of a 9/11 memorial to honor those lost during the tragic events of that day. His name is posted on the wall of my Facebook page in honor of his memory. It's so hard to believe that a decade has passed when it seems just like yesterday I watched in horror as the events of that day unfolded. I still can't watch footage from that day and not cry and I can only imagine the pain that his family must still carry over such a tragic and senseless loss of life. Please know that Jon's memory will not be forgotten and you have the love and support of an entire nation with you. I wish that words alone could bring the power of peace and healing to your hearts. May his memory always bring a smile to your face and warm your hearts. I know he is looking down on you from heaven, watching over you and can feel your love. May God also watch over you and bring you peace on the 10th anniversary of his passing and always. Much love and God Bless.
Linda Topping
September 11, 2011
You will not be forgotten and it's obvious how much you are loved. Rest in peace in God's arms.
Hope Lang
September 11, 2011
Jon,
It is amazing that it has been 10 years since 9-11. Even though you may have been a better friend with my brother than me I will not hold that against you. :) Wish I had the opportunity to know you better but my time will come and we can catchup then. Even though it has been 25 years since I left High School it seems like yesterday when someone you know from then life was cut short. I hope you are looking down and seeing how many people are taking care of your family. Well loved in life and death. We miss you, Hope
Mark Fifer
September 11, 2011
Jon,
Remembering you, your family and friends, not just on this sad (yet - if you can believe it - strangely hopeful) anniversary, but every day as I pass by the footprints of the WTC on my way to work. Your face and voice forever bring a personal imprint to this day. Peace to you on your infinite journey, friend.
Debra Breister
September 11, 2011
Jon,
It's been 10 years since we lost you. Your friends from school will never forget you and we will never forget what this day means. Rest in peace Jon.
June Coleman Magrab
September 10, 2011
Dear Jon,
The country is going crazy. It is the tenth anniversary of 9/11 and you would not believe how much attention is being paid to it. What can I say? Ten years—you are almost 44 and married 17 years. It would be just a few more days until your anniversary and then shortly thereafter your birthday. All of these dates and I don’t know where you are. I only hope you are okay wherever you have landed—please know that we miss you all the time. Your love has touched Erika forever. That can never be taken away from her. The radio, TV and internet all are going wild over this tenth anniversary. It’s strange, in a way, for a country to almost come to a standstill again. For those of us who love you, our hearts have never beat quite the same. And now everyone seems to have a bit of arrhythmia. It is just after midnight on the 11th right now. Everything is quiet. If I didn’t know better I’d say peaceful. But peace is something we no longer can take for granted. Bin Laden is dead. But the war rages on. I pray that you are at peace. Once before, perhaps more than once, I wrote to you wondering if you might be floating. Perhaps you are. And if so, Dearest Jon, float in peace.
Much love,
June
Stephanie Campagnini
September 11, 2010
Jon, I only knew you by name and when I read that name on Sept 10,2010, my heart sank. I woke up remembering all of those who's lives were so suddenly taken as I do every year. But that name, the name of someone you knew or only knew by name It didn't matter on this day. On this day I am sorry I didn't know you.I wish I had, I would have known a great person. You are not with us in body, but always know you will be with us in spirit even if we only knew you by name. God Bless you Jon, you are with Him now.
Steve H.
September 10, 2010
Jon - 9/11 was still recent, but a painful part of the past when I happened to find out you were there. It was the one thing that really grounded me to this tragedy -- a familiar face that brought it all home, made it personal. You were a brilliant and funny kid who apparently grew up into a determined, talented professional. You have many people still in this life that remember you and share your stories. God bless.
Michael Hatalovsky
September 11, 2009
Howdy, cousin Jon!
It's been forever wince we seen each other, but we will soon meet again someday. I still am stunned whenever this day comes around! Uncle Hank and Aunt Jane, and Eric, Mark, and Jill still remain in our prayers! Love, cousin Mike!
John Grabowski
September 11, 2009
Jon, the first time I saw your name on the 9/11 Memorial Flag I was stunned, breathless. I did not know you Jon, but you will never be forgotten.
Debra (Haller)Breister
September 11, 2009
It's been eight years and you are still not forgotten Jon.
valerie mcqueen peterson
February 19, 2009
I was looking for old friends and just found out about Jon's tragic death. My heart hurts for the loss of this smart, witty man. Looking back to all those years ago when he was a friend and mentor, I knew he would have a successful career. Had I even an inkling that his life would be cut so short, I would have embraced his friendship much harder and kept in contact. I remember when he met his wife, and he was telling me about her in a phone conversation. I was so elated that he had found someone. Jon, I know you didn't really believe in religion, but I am almost positive you are playing chess with some of the great minds in history. love your friend, val
J. Mansperger
September 11, 2008
Some lives end early, so as to teach the rest of us how to live. You are still a shining beacon to many on how to do what's right.
Doug Abraham
October 31, 2007
Happy belated Birthday!!!
Jan Myers
September 11, 2007
Six years later, I can still hear Jon's laughter on the phone. (We were business associates on opposite sides of the country.) Today, I said another prayer for Jon's soul and one for his family. Bless you all.
June Coleman Magrab
July 4, 2007
Dear Jon,
It's the fourth of July 2007. Just a quick note to let you know that I wish you were here. There is no celebration. But to know you are all right or to have you here would make so many of us feel more at peace. I spoke with your mother the other day. We were out of contact for awhile because our emails didn't click but i have a new one now and we're back in touch. Jill's fine and so is your mom. Be o.k. I miss you always. much love, june
June Coleman Magrab
December 17, 2006
Dear Jon,
It is 18th December 2006 a bit after midnight. Perhaps because it's a five year anniversary (of sorts) of your not being with us at Christmas or just a depressed mood passing through me now, cannot tell which, I want to tell you once again how missed you are, how much we all love you and how you are in my mind and bring tears almost daily. I'm in close touch with your mom, she sees you in Jill and I think that comforts her to some degree. Please please be safe. As you know I really don't believe in anything but sometimes think I'm hoping our paths will cross again. More than hoping, certain. Your abscence isn't fair and I will never believe in its cause.
If you float, float well, if you sleep, sleep tight. I love you Jon Grabowski. June
Kristine
October 26, 2006
As I cross-stitched your name on the memorial that I am doing for all of the victims, I prayed for you and your family. Please know that your death was not in vain. We will always remember. God Bless.
P Tabbernor
October 24, 2006
In memory....
Christine (Bartsch) Scouten
October 1, 2005
I was surfing the net today and came across this website...
I was friends with Jon during our high school years; and graduated with Jon. Although I didn't know Jon all that well, and lost touch with him after high school, I do remember if there were times I was down, he would do almost anything to try to make me laugh...which is what I remember most. Remembering this, from such a long time ago made me think that since Jon liked to make people laugh, that maybe the sign you're looking for are the "little" things that make you smile... (I believe in signs, too; as I have lost people close to me as well, specifically someone when I was younger, whom I still adore, and miss every day.)
I hope that in some small way this brings some sort of peace to you, in a situation that has no sense of reason. I also wanted to extend my thoughts and prayers to you, to Jon's wife, and to his immediate family.
Be well, and take care.
cbs
June Coleman Magrab
September 11, 2005
Dear Jon,
It's 11th September 2005. I miss you and don't know what to say except that not a day goes by w/o my thinking of you. I wait for signs from you that you are o.k. I don't think I believe in anything like that but wait nevertheless. Your mother, Erika, Kate, we all just want to undo that hateful day. I love you. Be o.k. if there is anyway I'm wrong about signs. Much love, June
June Coleman Magrab
May 8, 2005
Dear Jon,
Tomorrow is Mother's Day. Your mom will spend it with Jill. I think when she cannot stand it- misses you more than is bearable for her she goes to Jill because she's the one most like you. I still am in touch with your mother once or twice a week. Think sometimes it's weird, you and Erika married almost seven years and I only met the woman in whose womb you slept at the bridal shower and wedding and now grief has made good friends of two very un-alike women. But we share you and talk about you and I think it'sw been good for both of us. I know tomorrow will be very hard for her. I don't have any good news to report from this world. People gnaw at one another- nothing's changed. Erika is beautiful. She sent some photos last week and she looks like she did when you both lived in MD and she went to Jean Robert for haircuts. Sometimes I don't know what to say to her. My heart hurts so for her heart. I'm rambling and don't want to but it's just coming out and don't even know why. I'm having a number of poems published in war and peace anthologies. They're not about war. They're about you. But I was giving a reading and asked if I'd mind and, of course, I said no, I wouldn't mind. Now more people will know about your loopy curls and know-it-all grin. It's late, I'm bone-weary. I couldn't sleep and decided to visit with you. I don't have anything to say. Just that sometimes it is so painful, just like when the numbness wore off. Seems like it will be that way forever. I guess that is what life is like. I love you and miss you. June
erika lutzner
September 21, 2004
jon-just a little over three years, our anniversary passed last week, you would be 37 in less than a month-i don't understand anything-i am still here, missing you always-whenever i have a decision to make, a thought to share, i want to tell you-i want to have you roll over in the bed-kiss me goodbye one more time-i want to know that you are alright-that you didnt know what was happening-i don't feel whole anymore-my soul is ripped apart-i miss you-e
June Coleman Magrab
August 22, 2004
My Dear Jon,
It's almost 911/04. Three years now. I see that it's been nearly a year since I last wrote to you and you've been on my mind a lot lately. I talk w/your mom by eMail once or twice a week. With Erika whenever. This year I've been invited to a poetry gathering in New Hampshire on the 11th and I believe I'll go. It seems a safe thing to do and is probably better than remaining cloistered. It's a gorgeous day in New Hampshire today. I wish you, Erika and I could share it. You have new twin nephews. Eric and Jenn had babies, two boys, two weeks ago. Your mom it very happy about their births. I have a new pupply. His name is Gatsby. 'Cesca became ill last summer and I had to have her put down. It was all very quick from the diagnosis to the end. Gatsby's a poodle. Very different from a Shepherd. He's curly curly black and adorable. You'd like him. You like all creatures. I guess as 911 draws close many of us are becoming increasingly depressed. This will probably never change. We're having a presidential election this year. Time has gone sooooooooooo slowly and thenveryfast at the same time. My Dear Jon, be okay. I still wait for some crazy sign that tells me you know we're all thinking of you, love you and miss you every minute of every day.
Much love, June
June Coleman Magrab
September 13, 2003
My Dear Jon,
Two years and sometimes I'm nuts with grief, sometimes you're not dead, sometimes I'm so angry I cannot think, sometimes-
So many people called and emailed yesterday. Shy guy, you sure were popular!!!!!!!!!! I talked w/your mom. She's having a hard time. And then there's Erika. I think everyone who knew you and Erika envies the love you share. There was a harvest moon three nights ago. Maybe you were the man in it. I miss you Jon G. Damn it, give us some sign that there's something. Make the room shake; turn the cat into a bird, anything, just let us know you're safe. Two years and it's not any easier. Why couldn't you have been a jerk? A flat tire, rain inside the house. Anything. Love, June
Will Kramer
September 9, 2003
Jon,
Two years have passed and I still miss your laugh and sense of living. I will light a candle for you thurday...look for it from whereever you are.
Will
Michael Johnson
June 10, 2003
Jon:
I sit here surfing the net & I come across this website & who knows why? It's hard to believe that we met way back in the 70's & had all of those wild adventures all thru grades school, Jr High, High School, & at UofD.
If people only knew the things you & I always managed to get ourselves into!!! I read a story before this about you & it said that you were into model rocketry, illegal fireworks, & hard rock. I snickered as I read that & then had a flashback to us launcing those rockets together & acquiring those "illegal fireworks" together. Ah, what fun we had back in the day when we didn't really have a care in the world other than "staying outta trouble" & above all, not being caught!!!
How many times have you thought about Latin class & the Latin Club??!!! On top of that, who would've imagined ME in the Talented & Gifted program with YOU. If it wasn't for you, I never would've made it thru chemistry & biology (then again, there would've been a few others that wouldn't have made it either)!!!
How about all of those rainy/snowy days we spent playing Risk???!!!How about Axis & Allies?? I haven't played that one in YEARS, but to this day, I still have that game!!! It's never going to be the same playing it without you pal.
Who knows who will read this but who will ever know all of the things you & I did growing up together in good ole Dover, Delaware. It's a shame we lost touch after U of D but so many people go their seperate ways in life & sometimes the reunion comes a little too late & sometimes, like now, not at all. I'll always have that picture of you & that old Mustang of yours in my mind until the day comes when we are all reunited once again. Take care pal.....
Michael
June Coleman Magrab
April 22, 2003
Dear Jon,
Sunday will be Easter 2003. Your mother sent me a card today via electronics, three coloured eggs one clicks on and cute messages come up. She’s going to see Eric and Jill and talk with Mark. Do you remember who they are? Do you know me? Erika? Kate? Anything? I doubt it, nonbeliever that I am. But on the off off off chance that your ghost truly inhabits some molecule of space anywhere in this universe or another alien universe- I shall colour eggs for you, striped, polka dotted, neon, pastel and whisper to each one how much I miss you, think of you, wish you were here. It gets better and then it gets worse. Very worse. Must be the nature of death for us left. Those of us who still have thinking ability unlike our present government. Have told you before- it sucks. More death, destruction, devastation. For what end? You’re still not here.
I love you, Jon Grabowski. xxxooo a mother-in-law with wet cheeks.
June Coleman Magrab
March 30, 2003
Dear Jon,
It seems impossible that I’ve not written since December. It’s now almost April and spring is upon us. Doesn’t seem that way. I’ve just done a binge- cookies, cheese, chocolate, almonds, you name it. Think it has to do w/state of the world. You know, 911 has been used as an excuse to go to war. The shrub declared war on Iraq and the worst possible thing in the world is starting to happen all in the name of bringing democracy to a country that wants to be left alone. The Arab nations are rallying around Iraq, unifying, the very thing the shrub didn’t want. The world is polarized and we are probably on the brink of World War III. It’s more awful than you could imagine. Oh, probably not more awful than you could imagine. You’d feel like I do, like Erika does, like Kate does. But there’s no room for laying down arms anymore. It’s all so sad. It’s as though you’ve died in the name of terror to give excuse to annihilate another country. After Afghanistan it’s Iraq and after that it will be Iran and Syria and and and.
So the jonquils will bloom if the air allows it, stay tucked beneath earth if the air is suffused. Erika’s doing yoga, chanting, thinking of you. Your mother writes often and is hanging in- but it’s always hard, you gone, no signs save a white dove that appears in her yard now and again. A sign, she hopes, a sign that you’re around somewhere. And even if you’re not hope is good. I’m going to Costco tomorrow and buying peanuts. Will think of you, you introducing me to the store, my buying things on your card because I was too cheap to join. Can’t borrow your card any longer.
I just want to say hello. No more expectations of your being aware of anything. But I’ll probably write again and pretend.
These days pretense is all some of us get by on.
I love you Jon Grabowski. You reside in my heart every moment of every day- pop into my brain at the oddest times. I shall never regret knowing you, having you love my daughter, your serious sarcastic/caustic side. I shall never forget/regret/you. You’d hate what’s happening. Yes, pretense is what we slide by on.
Much love, June
June Coleman Magrab
December 4, 2002
Dear Jon,
It’s getting close to Christmas. The second w/o you. The world’s a mess- WTC, PA and the Pentagon gave the shrub an excuse to play soldier-boy. Meredith Viera of “The View” suggested asking him what it would take to keep him from war w/Iraq. Good question. Has to clean up daddy’s mess and keep the fat cats happy.
I write w/your mom once or twice a week and think that next year she’ll visit me in New England. We’ve worked out a “smoke outside” thing. And that something else I’ve been meaning to tell you. You could have told me you smoked. I might have railed at you but nothing compared to the way I rail at god, the shrub, his VP and everyone who wants to kill and overthrow governments w/o a thought of how to put humpty-dumpty together again.
Can you believe how negative I am? Probably. You’d be on the same page, no doubt. I can’t even think of Christmas Eve and day w/o you and Erika her, a million stocking-stuffers, cute stuff for E and junk food for you. My dear Jon, how we miss you, your crooked grin, witty words- the sarcasm that would now sound like poetry. Be well. Not much else to add tonight. Perhaps something will come to mind before the 25th. Spread your wings, Jon, flutter past us while we sleep.
Much love, June
June Coleman Magrab
November 18, 2002
Dear Jon,
You know what? Your mother and I correspond frequently. And both of us think you should leave us some sort of a message. Anything. A white dove visits her frequently. Is that you, a message from you? It's not fair to tease. And that you did so well. So if you've wings, just say so. I'm getting tired of waiting and your reticence to come forth is just digging me further into being a true non-believer. So come on down. Say hi. Erika, your mom, Kate, me- boy o boy, are we ready to get a message from you, sir. Short note today. Don't want you to think I've stopped obsessing about your death.
I love you, Jon Grabowski. And you need to give us some sign. I'm your mother-in-law, after all, and that's BIG power. Right?
Much love, June
Mark Wilhelm
October 25, 2002
Jon and I were grill mates at the Golden Corral Steak house in Dover. He was a perfectionist at his work (something I could never compete with) and was always able to make me laugh. I am a better person for knowing Jon and his British humor.
You are are greatly missed Jon.
June Coleman Magrab
September 28, 2002
Dear Jon,
It'f 27/28th September and two anniversaries have now passed: 911 and 17th September, 20002, which would have been your eighth wedding anniversary to Erika. Now we just have to get through your birthday in October, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas and then everyone can make resolves for the new year. Great, huh??????????
I talked with Erika a few hours ago. Your mom sent me an article your dad wrote for the newspapers in Delaware; it had a wedding photo of you and Erika, nice of him to do it; we all miss you. It was for the 911 anniversary deal. Media made a big thing of it. It is a big thing but it was nonstop. I didn't watch TV or listen to the radio. Friends had me over for dinner. They saved me last year- Peter and Ingrid. Can go to their house in my bathrobe and they understand.
I've been good about keeping in touch with your mom. I just wrote to her. This is what I said:
Dear Jane, Hope you and Doug had a relaxing and wonderful trip. Just want to say welcome back and make sure you'd have some mail waiting for you. Thank you for sending me Hank's article with the photo. Made me cry. But I do that anyway. I went to Maine and it was good to see my friends. Had fun with them. I don't drink much and got a bit tipsy Tuesday night. Suffered with a headache Wednesday. Just some red wine but knocked me for a loop. Erika called tonight and we chatted briefly. I'm writing Jon a letter on the legacy site. One day when you're ready you can read them. I've written a lot to him. Stopped for many months but guess 911 started me up again.
In any case, hope you were able to get away from it all for a while and just have a nice time. I love you Jane. Talk soon again, love, June
It's a cold and dreary night. Not even October and have the heat on. I'm listening to Hildegard von Bingen. The chants are calming. Last year played her for months. Nothing changes through the centuries. Like the war Bush is trying to force. How can one resolve differences that have existed for thousands of years? I wish you were here to give him hell. Dear Jon, please be okay. My candles burn, I shut my eyes and your face is in my eyes just like your voice is always in my head.
I will never forget that the year I turned fifty, the first year you and Erika were together, you gave me a copy of "Betty Blue". How fortunate that you were/are my son-in-law. I love you, I miss you. june
June Coleman Magrab
September 11, 2002
Dear Jon,
A year ago we'd just found out for sure you were dead- could not have made it out from your location. Now we are boxed in- going on each day to honour you, your mother, Erika. I'm still burning candles, still feel comfort when I hear your voice; so I call when Erika's out for your message, preserved, for those of us who want to listen. I love you- send a sign. love, june
Elizabeth (Heyman) Saindon
September 11, 2002
Remembering Jon and his family today, one year later. Erika, Kate and June--my wish is that the world continue to strive towards peace. May there be peace in our hearts, peace in our minds, and peace in our world.
Namaste.
Michael Iezzi
March 22, 2002
Father we entrust our brother Jon to your mercy. You loved him greatly in this life: now that he is freed from all its cares, give him happiness and peace forever. Welcome him now into paradise where there will be no more sorrow, no more weeping or pain, but only peace and joy with Jesus your Son, and the Holy Spirit forever and ever.
June Coleman Magrab
February 13, 2002
Dear Jon,
Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. It's inconceivable to me that you and Erika are apart on this, the day for sweethearts. March 9 would be the twelfth anniversary of your first date. The weather is cold today as it should be. Somehow it is befitting to have a winter day in winter instead of the crazy weather patterns so far since 911. Something in me must have decided to stop saying 11 September and call it what it really is: EMERGENCY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Kate had an emergency with her dog last night. She took him to the same emergency vet Spike went to a few months ago. He spent the night and is fine today. Don't know how you'd feel about this; I'm gonna' house sit and baby-sit Spike and Kerouac next month for a week and maybe again in late April. You don't have to worry; they'll be well taken care of and spoiled plenty. Went to an excellent movie on Sunday, "In the Bedroom" and thought about how little we all really know about one another. So maybe you wouldn't mind my taking over cat duties. Never had a chance to address this issue with you when you could tell me. Now am looking for signs but don't believe in signs so even if one was in my face wouldn't know it. Please prove me wrong, give me a sign that I'll recognize, can tell Erika about, your mother, Kate, everyone, let me shout from rooftops that Jon signed and he's okay, cantankerous, floating someone in-between the galaxies. Tonight's supposed to be single digits in the suburbs. Real February weather. Is there a climate where you are? Are you cold, alone, or are you with others, maybe even your grandfather? Help me out here. I miss you Jon. It's over five months and there seems no end in sight of pain letting up. Now it's possible to tuck it away for a few hours but it comes back full force. And if nothing else I've learned that it's worse for Erika, the other mother in laws, the other people. It's worse for each of us since no once can possibly understand how it is for someone else. Erika's heart is with you now, tomorrow and forever. I hope you're someplace warm.
Love, June
June Coleman Magrab
February 9, 2002
Dear Jon,
Today the sun shone fully. Can you imagine? 8 February and fifty-six degrees. It's late now; 3:25 AM on the 9th and I just can't get warm. It's been like that since 911. I’ve set up an electric heater in my studio and have it on all the time. It's like an oven, maybe that's sort of like being back in the womb. Erika called tonight; short call. She sounds okay as long as we don't discuss "it." We talked about yoga, meditation, spas, small talk. Better than no talk. I almost didn't get my letter to you of 31 January published on this site. Had an inappropriate line in it and removed it. It's comforting to know that these messages are reviewed. Ordinarily I'm opposed to censorship. But nothing hurtful should ever appear in these words. I hate sounding like an infomercial but you have to hand it to the NYTimes for diligently keeping up with these sites. It's beyond admirable. Actually, one of the good things that has come out of the horror. Perhaps the only good thing, uniting people in their feelings, and everyone's feelings are different. It's interesting to me to see how varied the writing is. Some is full of god, angels and symbolism. Some is more direct: angry, confused and literary. All of it's good. Your mom and I are really getting to know one another quite well. I don't regret the years we didn't see each other. Am grateful that we help each other now. She loves and misses you in ways I can only guess at. I deal with my pain in my way. I don't know how she and Erika can do it. Kate and I are both in and out of the "inner circle" of grief. We feel it all but since we're a degree removed we're not in the "club" and sometimes I at least, feel estranged and awkward. Oh well... Today I was thinking back to 911 and to how I heard. A friend called me; I was in NH in seclusion working on a book. She said "June, (she knows I work at night) wake up. You have a daughter in NY and a husband in Washington. Turn on the radio." I called Erika and asked her if she was okay. She said "of course, it's Jon." Jon, I didn't even know you were working at the WTC. I knew you'd changed jobs; we'd talked about it a few days earlier. But I didn't put the WTC together with the new job. Six days. That keeps going through my mind. You worked there six days and you were always punctual. Couldn't you have been late once in awhile? I guess not in your nature. Not even in the old job of many years. I'm always last minute. I wonder what floor I'd have been on when the plane hit. Erika would have been in place, she's always punctual. And Kate, she'd have been a bit behind me. We'd all have been on different floors. Maybe you and Erika would have been together. This is the first time I'm going there. The horrific details are always with me. But trying to figure it out methodically must be the next phase. Like getting dressed today after four days in my nightgown and robe. My hair was awful, uncombed, didn't brush my teeth, blamed it on being on the edge of coming down with whatever bug is going around. Tonight clean hair and scalp itches. Maybe bugs. But it was sunny like I said and went out for a walk to downtown Bethesda. Another store is closing. They blame it all on 911. Think Bush can take some credit too. Those wonderful tax refunds, he probably thinks we were to bereaved to spend the big deal we got back. What a jerk! At least you don't have to worry about that shit any longer. Tomorrow am going to attempt a trip to Costco. You know, my social life. Will buy a ready-made roasted chicken for $4.99. Will buy stuff for a salad and maybe some junk food and pretend you're still here. My dreams are awful. Guess time will take care of that also. When I was in NY last week bought a bracelet and ring in stainless steel just like Erika's. I'm doing anything I can to feel closer to her/you. I talk with Kate pretty often. She thinks of you all the time. We all do. We had dinner at James’s restaurant and he made it very special for us. Was nice. A friend of mine also named James, a chef here in Bethesda, made a supreme dinner for Ed and me a few weeks ago. Comped. Couldn't believe it. I don't even know why I decided to write tonight. I miss you.
Much love, June
June Coleman Magrab
February 6, 2002
Dear Jon,
Somehow it's been more difficult since the police notified us that you are now "confirmed" dead. As if we didn't know. To have you reduced to a five and one half inch piece of bone unsettles me. What will they bring next? I prefer to think of you just going up in smoke, even crushed into tiny unrecognizable bits if we were unable to recover you in tact. It's all so horrible, and this closure everyone talks of is bullshit. It's getting worse. The bright light is now what I dreaded most for many months. Now your voice comforts me. I hear you on the answering machine and it doesn't occur to me that so much horror has taken place in Erika's life, the family's life, thousands and thousands of people’s lives. And the incense and candles bring solace, as does quiet, meditation and talking with Erika and Kate. I just wrote your mom again. Keep thinking if I'm feeling this bad and you were my son-in-law what must it be like for her. Everyone's trying, everyone’s being brave, but most of it’s a front for the mess we are inside, almost like a pin prick would have everything gush out into a pile of an un-put-able-back together into human form mass. Today is the last day of January; it's a new year and winter still hasn't arrived except on 11 September 2002. Tomorrow the weather forecast is for seventy-four degrees. Perhaps some spirit knows we can never be warm again. I wrote to you two days ago. Sometimes its weeks in-between. But there's nothing else I know how to do. If you get these messages great and if not if doesn't matter. I thought no one read them but sometimes they do. I feel so negative right now; don't know how to get on with it, bury myself in my work; all I write about is death, the process of death in the living and more death. I can't stand government of any kind, don't want more killing, don't care about much. At least that's how it is right now. Know, Jon, that these times come and go, it's not always, just sometimes, and I think DNA has acted as catalysis this time. I still see myself with you in that chair next to me in the funeral parlour, can't get it out of my head. And I hear Erika's voice, her mask in place, Kate's voice, none of us able to make one iota of sense out of what each day is like. And we eat, sleep, etcetera, but it all has different meaning now, as if the past is erased save some memory and now we're reborn into a life that is bereavement with little hope of its going away. All the good people and good books say time heals and we're waiting. I spoke with Erika earlier and she was going to yoga. Kate's probably there now. I'll sit sazen when I finish writing. We miss you so. Xxxooo
Love, June
11:55 PM
31 January 2002
June Coleman Magrab
February 4, 2002
Dear Jon,
I wrote to you on 31 January and it hasn't shown up on the site yet. Either no more entries are being accepted, it's taking longer because so many people are writing to the Legacy site or I've written too many, like a certain number allotted to each person. Oh well, you know that I've written if you're able to know anything. Interesting theological and psycho-phenomena to ponder. Do you know anything? Are you somewhere? If you are, why don't you let us know? Can't you swoop down in some form and give Erika a sign, anything to help her through these long days of waiting for things to get better in a time when it seems a certainty that things will not get better? There were snow showers today. They lasted only fifteen minutes, solid white flakes and the sun shining at the same time. That's how I imagine you, in a place where wonderful things happen simultaneously. It's funny in a way, these letters I write. I haven't written letters in a long time so consistently. Only poetry. And now, when I'd like to write poems for you only prose comes, sad words, despair, when I should be writing down the wonderful memories I have of you, your mischievous deeds, shit-eating grin, blonde curls grown long into that smooth pony tail, kind deeds every day for someone in need, playing the devil's advocate par excellence, yada yada yada. Your mom wrote today and I wrote back. It's nice to be in touch with her. She visited Jill yesterday, told me she looks just like you except that her hair is red. I remember the photos of Jill. Odd, the twists and turns in life, Jill going strong, you dead, confirmed dead, five and a half inch piece of perhaps pelvic bone now cremated into two tiny parcels, Jill in her wheelchair, you in a paper bag in the chair next to me Monday last. Odd, weird, crazy, no sense out of this one. I want Jill to stay well, for herself, for your mom, for your family, for Erika. For you. I wrote a little poem for you to let you know what life is like for Erika now:
Life in 5D
For Erika & Jon
Erika walks slowly, her heart hurts. She can’t breathe, eat, do yoga. Imagine her, bent over, writing to you, loving you, feeding the cats. I thought Spike was nine but he’s eleven. Baby fights with Daisy. And Ellie? she fits into your house- sort of. Ellie and Daisy have been back and forth, one apartment to another, ending up in yours because they can’t take care of themselves. You wouldn’t like them there. Erika thought you inhabited Spike one night. I stare at you on the computer screen, in your wedding book. Climb into Spike, or Baby. Give Daisy a scare, for Erika. Did I tell you her heart hurts? Now that flesh has dropped she can flap her arms, fly like a sparrow, covering bits of space gracefully. I’d give anything to see her eyes flash, stand on her head, a stretch or half lotus. I don’t know how her body feels when she sifts through memories stashed in the trunk, as you lie buried in the small of her back where you used to rub her aches away. You can be Spike again, or even a worm- she’s not afraid of anything now.
It's still in draft form I guess. Hard to commit to much of anything right now. One never knows how one will deal until the time to play out the hand comes. Who sits around and says thinks will it be like if my child predeceases? Maybe it would have been a smart thing to do, be prepared, sort of like having a full piggy bank for that rainy day. No such luck. I was making a lot of spelling errors in these letters to you so now have to go over them a few times. No spell check on the way to heaven. There are some wonderful messages on your legacy site. People miss you, we all love you, Jon, we all find each day hard. Can only hope you're at peace. I keep thinking it would be a good idea to find god now, become something, anything to grab onto might help ease the pain. I didn't go to Zen tonight, didn't feel like seeing people who are so nice but expect some small talk. There just isn't any left.
Much love, June
Bill Hutchins
January 30, 2002
Jon:
May you rest in peace. I was moved by the overflow of love and affection expressed at your memorial service in Milford. I only wish I had gotten to know you.
Bill Hutchins
June Coleman Magrab
January 30, 2002
Dear Jon,
I've just returned from two trips to NYC in less than two weeks. Can you believe it? I'm actually beginning to have a fondness for the city that you and Erika loved so much. Kate has a new puppy. His name is Flynn, he's a toy poodle and you wouldn’t be able to resist this cutie. Maybe the cutest dog I've ever seen. Have to say maybe or 'Cesca might get jealous. Erika looks good. She has a tan, muscles in her arms and is so beautiful. There's a change in her face, a resoluteness that is new. It's not unbecoming, perhaps only a mark a mother, sister or husband would notice. It tells a story of loss and devastation. You've never seen her this way. Her mask is in tact, no one would guess; she's that good in covering up. I'm so proud of how strong she is, nothing new to you. She's not cooking up a storm but doesn't rule out food as part of her future. Still, I wonder sometimes if anyone can be sadder than your Erika. Kate's struggling, we all are and no longer even try to think it through. We miss you so much some days are unbearable. The kind of days I don't dress, just stay in my bathrobe. Others would say I'm "mental." Oh well, who gives a shit anyway? Sometimes it seems nothing matters; sometimes it seems to make sense to put one foot in front of the other and try for a little walk, climbing some stairs or just moving across the room. Yesterday I sat in a chair with your remains in the chair next to me and I thought that's Jon in the seat next to me. There were fragments of other people in parcel post boxes up on a shelf. I don't think this is bringing closure. We've known you’re dead since 11 September 2001; DNA confirmation is not particularly soothing, in fact, the opposite for me. Maybe a few months ago, now, such an intrusion, like willing those left to never have time to heal but just have the nightmare go on and on and on. So I sat in the chair thinking that's you Jon, you're sitting right next to me in a plastic box, ashes divided in two, one for Erika, one for your mother and maybe I should start talking with you. But you know, there we are in this funeral parlour, two guys helping Erika, whole scene surreal, real weird, and talking to a plastic box with two tiny sacs of ashes, all in a large paper bag with string handles..........these guys must deal with "mentals" everyday but I want you to rest in peace if you're resting and not stirring up Hell in Heaven, so decided to give you a break, let you off the hook, you know, like cutting a phone call short when I knew you wanted to get off but were too polite to say so. Again, rambling. Came home today after five days with Erika and Kate and wish I lived nearer while they're grateful I don't wear my welcome out. Oh well.........mothers! I talk with and write to your mom regularly and plan to go and visit soon. Sometimes people send stuff to these legacy sites, what I mean is the same message to every site whether they knew the person or not. It's kind of nice but it's spooking me out. It's 2:25 in the morning and I'm gonna' try and get some sleep. I don't do well on four hours like you used to be able to exist on. Old lady me. Take care, dear Jon, I miss you so very much. Your voice is always in my head, your face in my eyes. Vision blurs off and on each day. Incense is burning along with the candles, I sit sazen think of nothing and somehow that helps. I hope you know that Erika is okay, she's trying so hard, truly, she's okay, for today anyway. And that's a good thing. Be free, soar with the eagles, munch cocktail peanuts and eat a lot of cheeze whiz. Is there any food wherever? Take good care,
Love, June
Anonymous
January 28, 2002
DEAR GOD SHINE YOUR LIGHT ON THIS BEAUTIFUL MAN AND MAY HIS SOUL REST IN PEACE WITH GOD AND HIS ANGELS..GOD BLESS HIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS AND MAY THEY FIND PEACE..GOD BLESS AMERICA AND NEW YORK AND MAY WE NEVER FORGET 9/11/01. MAY ST. JOHN MEET YOU AT THE GATES OF HEAVEN..AMEN
Michael Iezzi
January 11, 2002
Dear June,
I am reading all of your beautiful letters you send to Jon. I am sure he was a very special person. Yes, June people do read these letters. It is four months today and I think about it EVERY DAY... I think of all the innocent lives that were taken from us. I wish I could give you a big hug and make things better for you June. My thoughts and prayers are with you and for Jon's family. God Bless you.
Love,
Mike
Teresa Jahn
January 1, 2002
We are very sorry for your loss of Jon. May all the sorrow in your hearts be lightened by the golden memories of the beautiful moments in your life. Our hearts cry with you.
America Cries
We see your sorrow-
and our hearts cry....
We can not erase your pain
but you do not have to face the anguish alone-for we-
-the American people-
are beside you.
We so desperately want to have the touch that brings you comfort,
the strength that gives you courage,
and the words to lighten your spirits.
And when we are left speechless
may the silence of our nation weave love into your hearts
to ease your sorrow.
May you find healing through our nation's strength as we-
-the American people-
face this difficult time together. Our hearts are with you. Teresa Jahn
Dixon, IL
June Coleman Magrab
December 31, 2001
Dear Jon,
It's 1:30AM, 31 December 2001. Sitting in my studio it appears as though the world is at rest. It's not. Bad dreams, war, revenge on my mind, a feeling of utter ineptitude. The holidays- awful. I wish I believed in religion. There's just emptiness, this feeling one can't explain. I wonder how Erika and your mother manage. Erika's still here, sad beyond belief, hanging on, you'd be proud of her. I blunt eyes against today, see you being married, coming back from your honeymoon, championing my daughter through culinary school, and the prize, your sucesses (both of you) and happiness in life. This sounds like pretty sentimental shit. So what? It's not a poem; I don't think people even read this stuff. I don't know where else to write to you. I could have a folder of notes the way I have a copy of your wedding book. But it would remind me that I also have a book filled with every scrap about your death. This way the words seem to hang in the air, always fresh, no yellowing with age. It's not getting better. People say it does. I'm waiting. I talk with Erika, Kate's still with her and she has the cats, takes such good care of them. She's alive but can't live without you. I spoke with your mom; she's having a rough time. We all are, missing you, loving you, never imagining you could be dead. Your voice never leaves, and even when I open my eyes to get your face out of my head it's there. Dear Jon, I hope there's a place for the spirit and then you'll have us with you and won't be alone.
Much love, June
June Coleman Magrab
December 15, 2001
Dear Jon,
Marie, an acquaintance of yours from high school sent me an e-mail. Can you imagine, a hand reaching out to me from you. She let us what a great kid you were, how much she's been thinking about you, wondering what you'd done in the years since she'd seen you. It was really nice that she wrote. It's close to Christmas now and I'm having trouble sleeping. You're always there, my eyes shut or open, your image never leaves. People say "get on with it" and I don't understand how to even grieve enough to stop the nightmares, daymares, depression that doesn't let up. I sure hope you're doing better than we are; we're a mess. The world's a mess and I'm feeling sorry for myself. It doesn't solve anything. Erika cooked turkey on Monday for the kids, some moms and the nuns. She says the nuns all had seconds, like her food as much as the kids do. I'm so proud of her, what a good thing she's doing. I search the sky for shooting stars, turn my face to the rain wondering if that's you running down my cheek. Mostly, I close my eyes, listen to you talk, tell stories about Erika, how well she's doing, the goals you two have, how bright and wonderful Erika is. It's hard to imagine a better gift than a son-in-law telling me how besotted he is day after day, year after year with my daughter. No one can take that away. Marie says you helped her in English class so many years ago. Jon, you're still here talking to me, telling your stories. The candles-- they're burning, slowly taking up air. It's become an obsession, these candles, a flame always burning. Spike doesn't like his new wet food so much anymore but Erika got him dry stuff that's healthy and he's really doing well. She worries about the cats. She's taking good care of them. And Kate, you'd be proud of her, she's a good sister, there for Erika all the time. They even look alike now, short dark hair, elfen bodies, similar mannerisims. You still haven't let me know what's up, if there's another place, if you're a star, a bug or maybe an alien on some far-off planet. Like the flame in my kitchen you could flicker, then I'd point Erika in the direction of your light and maybe she could sleep. I miss you, I love you, I hope you're as enlightened wherevevr you are as Erika knew you were when you were alive.
Love, June
xxxooo
June Coleman Magrab
December 9, 2001
Dear Jon,
It's almost Christmas. I have an aversion for malls but had an errand last week at Tysons Corners in VA. Didn't stay long, but long enough to notice the mall was jammed; one would think from the activity that 11 September didn't happen. That would mean you're alive, sitting at the computer, with coffee, TV blaring, cats around your feet and on the window- sill, Erika near-by or at yoga. The candle in my kitchen tells me that's not the way it is. So do my dreams which unfold into the nightmare of Erika alone in NYC, save for and the cats, inconsolable. You are fixed as surely as a speciman, forever young, blonde, shit-eating grin, sometimes almost as crooked as the one Lyle Lovett uses. How we miss you, dear Jon. I sent Erika a little bronze cat sculpture. She likes it. Spike and Baby keep her going. She's cooking for a group of kids, their moms, three nuns and whoever else happens in, once a week. Also reading to the blind. Perhaps there's a metaphor in that, you know the blind leading--
Erika and Kate will do something, go to a movie, whatever, on Christmas. I still close my eyes, hear your voice. I still wait for you to give some sign that there is another place, better, different, anything, some sign, that lets us know you know how much we miss you. If you were alive you'd theorize that of course we'd miss you; but theory and reality are not the same. I'm concerned, afraid that you're lonely. If there is someplace else maybe you're in a group, therapy-like, all huddled together trying to send messages through some medium letting us know you're okay. If you get this message you're probably trying to get off the phone now but too polite to do so, rambling me going on and on and no Erika in the background to stop me. I miss that. I miss you. I love you. I spoke with Erika at one o'clock this morning. I'm running out of words...........
love, june
Marie (Passwaters) Jimenez
December 5, 2001
With fond memories of Jon, I send love and prayer for his family and friends. May you some day find peace and comfort knowing he lives forever in your heart.
Angelique Lutzner
November 26, 2001
Hommage to Jon
It has been a long time, seems like yesterday, more than two months, you are leaving our world. Thanksgiving arrive so sadly without any real celebration. Our heart doesn't tell any mercy for being alive and having a good meal to honor, especially for Erika, your unconsolable widow-wife.
I burnt the insense as a buddhist believer and pray for your next life to be as good as this life, although too short, which was a fully accomplished life that everyone would like to have on the stopping-off on the earth.
Loving thoughts,
Angie
June Coleman Magrab
November 15, 2001
Dear Jon,
I've stopped burning small candles. Now I buy tall ones, they burn for days at a time. I'm burning a white one now, different colours depending on whose picture is on the glass holding the wax. Spike had a bad reaction to a distemper shot yesterday and had to see an emergency vet at midnight. He's fine now. Erika and Kate took good care of him and the emergency vet and the new vet recommended by Stephen and Tom is great. You'd be pleased to see Spike and Baby now; healthy for the most part, and a kitty condo for their wildest fantasies overtakes your living room. 72 inches tall I think. Maybe even taller. They love it from what Erika and Kate tell me. How are you doing? Your voice on the answering machine is comforting, and when I close my eyes I can hear you saying "hello" and when I relax remember some of our conversations word for word. Erika is really trying to stay here. She's way thin, but she's exercising to try to get her appetite back. She's lost without you, Jon. She carries you with her in her heart, mind and body. Do you know how beautiful her tattoo is? A tree, exquisite, and in the small of her back the world knows how much you love one another. I'm rambling. Just like on the telephone. I miss you, Jon, I love you. Be okay. I keep wondering where you are, if there's a place after all. I've never believed in anything but I'm turning into a fatalist, thanks to Kate, and if I can do that perhaps a place does exist. I hope so.
Much love, June
June Coleman
October 25, 2001
Dear Jon,
I'm burning candles like crazy, sweet and pungent candles that I imagine you'd like. Their scent drops to the other cadles, the little ones in glasses people usually burn just once a year. Sometimes I wonder if you'll be reincarnated, and, into what? Erika gasps for air without you. Know that she's smoking, sitting on the bar stool of her past sharing her cigarettes with you. She shares everything with you, missing and loving you so. Be safe wherever.........
Much love, xxxooo June
June Coleman
October 21, 2001
Jon was my son-in-law. Within two weeks after meeting my daughter, he told me he wasn't fooling around, he intended to marry her. He was always kind and generous to everyone, and we who knew him cannot bear his loss. Now my daughter tries to eat, sleep, talk, sniff the air chasing familiar scent. Jon and Erika, two parts of one soul.
Kate Lutzner
October 20, 2001
Jon was my brother-in-law. He loved my sister so much, and she him. He was lovely and kind and sweet and a trickster of all sorts but at the center, just kindness. She loves him so, also, and I can't stand that our world allows such evil to exist amongst us. The word peace holds so much less meaning to me now. The world holds less meaning, less joy. Without Jon, with everyone grieving, so many people, for their loved ones.
Marvin Lutzner
October 20, 2001
Jon was a kind and gentle giant of a man, husband and companion to my daughter Erika. His loss leaves the world a sadder place, having brought joy to everything and everyone he touched. A senseless world needs to redirect itself towards a world unified by love and understanding, so that all its souls can live without fear in peace and happiness.
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If you’re in charge of handling the affairs for a recently deceased loved one, this guide offers a helpful checklist.
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Obituaries, grief & privacy: Legacy’s news editor on NPR podcast
Legacy's Linnea Crowther discusses how families talk about causes of death in the obituaries they write.
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The Five Stages of Grief
They're not a map to follow, but simply a description of what people commonly feel.
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Some basic help and starters when you have to write a tribute to someone you love.
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