Kiersta Anne Kurtz-Burke

1968 - 2024

Memorializing Kiersta Kurtz-Burke is not an easy task, because she was, simply put, exceptional: She was beautiful, accomplished, kind, brilliant and uniquely funny, and most of all fun. Kiersta was the beloved wife of Justin Lundgren, mother to Alex and Leo Lundgren, daughter of Ted Burke and Linda Craven (predeceased), sister to Jayme Burke, aunt to Ben and Theo Judice, daughter-in-law to Dave and Katya Lundgren, and friend to too many people to count. She will remain in our hearts forever. Kiersta was born in East Lansing, Michigan, on September 15, 1968. She was a sassy and precocious little girl who over the years was active in theater and cheerleading, and loved to cook. The family took regular weekends and vacations to Northern Michigan to visit beloved friends and family. By the time Kiersta was a young woman, she was by any measure accomplished: She began school at Barnard College in New York City in 1987, majoring in Russian Studies and studying abroad in Russia when it was still the USSR, learning to speak Russian fluently. She embarked on a career in medicine after working as a Russian translator for a group of American OB/GYNs who were on a medical training mission in Leningrad (today known as St Petersburg). The intense experience of watching births and medical care being delivered in difficult conditions inspired her to pursue a career in medicine. She completed a Master's in Public Health at Tulane University in 1994 and got her M.D. at Tulane in 1999, then going in to specialize in Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation. She was invited to join the AOA medical honor society in 1999 and while normally unimpressed by such honors, she often let her husband know about this one when debating medical issues or just life in general. Kiersta did not excel for her own vanity or financial gain: As a doctor, Kiersta never phoned it in, but worked hard at several different hospitals that served New Orlean's veteran and uninsured communities. One of her patients put it best: "She is more than just a good doctor but a good friend. You will not be just a number or next in line to her – she treats you for you. She has saved my life." To walk with her at Jazzfest or the city streets was to see her greeted with hugs and smiles from patients who called her "Dr. K." As a doctor at New Orleans Charity hospital, Kiersta demonstrated her dedication. Most notably, she spent 6 days during hurricane Katrina with diminishing food and water and no electricity, treating the sick, including hand-ventilating patients who could not breathe. All 16 of the patients she was responsible for survived and were evacuated safely. After she and other medical staff worked many days straight with no shower or air conditioning, Sanjay Gupta from CNN was air dropped into the hospital, looking fresh and asking what he could do to help: Kiersta immediately replied, "Do you have to look so good?" After the ordeal was over, she went home, took a shower, and immediately began speaking out on the abandonment of her patients during and after the storm. Her voice was so articulate and reasoned that she was interviewed for StoryCorps and the New York Times. Her Katrina observations were also portrayed word-for-word by the performance artist Anna Deveare Smith in the critically acclaimed Let Me Down Easy, an Off Broadway play about human resilience. The play was televised as part of the PBS's "Great Performances" series and is still available on PBS's web site. Several books also have portrayed Kiersta's dedication to New Orleans, a city she cherished and fought for before and after hurricane Katrina, including Jed Horne's, Breach of Faith: Hurricane Katrina and the Near Death of an American City, Cynthia Joyce's, Please Forward: How Blogging Reconnected New Orleans After Katrina, Ian McNulty's Katrina memoir Season of Night, and the Dave Isay book of interviews: "Listening is an Act of Love." Later she worked at the VA hospital in New Orleans for many years and loved her work with veterans of all abilities–those with brain injuries, paraplegia and quadriplegia--offering them top medical treatment and supporting them and their families. She was an incredible teacher and mentor to medical students and residents. Finally, during the pandemic, Kiersta risked her own health, working the overnight shift in a prison to help incarcerated patients who had Covid. She had this compulsion to throw herself into impossible situations, environments in which most people would strive to avoid. From an early age she was a political and social activist. As a college student in New York City in the 1980s she participated in civil disobedience actions by ACT-UP. As an impassioned advocate for reproductive rights and access to medical care for all, she used her skills, particularly her medical degree, to volunteer in ways that further improved health outcomes for people in need near and far. She took her medical students on several volunteer medical missions to Cuba and Haiti, advocated for disability rights in Washington DC, and for many years volunteered to provide medical care to members of the creative community at the Musicians Clinic of New Orleans. She raised money for Trach Mamas of Louisiana so they could lobby in Washington against Medicaid cuts and was interviewed by CNN about it. She volunteered with an organization that advocated for refugees fleeing the war in Sierra Leone to have asylum in the U.S. based on their physical disabilities. In one instance, she made multiple trips to visit a refugee from Africa who was seeking political asylum and was being held in an ICE detention facility in a rural part of Louisiana. Google maps led her astray and her car got stuck in a mud pit on an abandoned road. There was a limited time to complete the interview and exam and so in her white doctors' coat and with 2 inch heels she walked 3 miles along a muddy path peppered with signs warning of the potential dangers of escaped prisoners as well as feral hogs who were inclined to attack. But she made it to the prison and completed the required exam. She supported without hesitation every single family member or friend who faced a medical crisis and asked for her help. She was all in – doing deep research, and offering profound emotional support, following up to look at labs, and even responding to texts about troublesome rashes in the middle of the night. Finally, during Mardi Gras 2020, a woman was fatally injured by a float on Magazine street, and Kiersta was the first person on the scene, providing care and holding the woman as she died. There was nothing to be done medically but she knew that this woman needed comfort and a hand to hold and she gave it without hesitation. This act embodied her spirit as a doctor and human-she would never turn away from anyone in need, no matter how dire or grim the task. Kiersta had the sharp and quick sense of humor of a nightclub comic. Most people who reach out to remember and memorialize her have mentioned how funny she is, how she made them laugh–a precious commodity in these difficult times. What can you say about a woman who asks, "Is it menopause, or is it the patriarchy?" Or describes her kids growing up and becoming independent and tells us, "If you need me, I'll be in the fetal position, listening to 'Landslide' on repeat." But if you read her Facebook feed, you will notice her sharp sense of humor was never aimed at others. In one post, she describes, "...me and my son, both crying over long division, and me sobbing, 'I'm telling you, I'm smart! I got an A in Advanced Calculus!'" Instead of showing off her accomplishments, she used Facebook to share her humanity, her sense of humor about herself, and her love for her family. This love for her family was obvious to anyone who knew her. She took great pride in Justin's art, and she said his name in a sweet way that betrayed her love for him. As a mother, she delighted in her kids' uniqueness and allowed each of them the space to be their own person, to choose their own identities. She followed their passions and preferences related to music and fashion, whether 90s or Goth, and treated them with respect. As you can plainly see from her Facebook feed, Leo and Alex charmed and tickled her, and she loved them deeply. Beyond her family, she was always interested in everyone's welfare–emotionally invested in the health and growth not just of her friends but her friends' children, taking them out, hosting them, treating them with utmost respect, being a friend to new generations in her community. Just six months ago she took her children and four of their friends to New York City and built an itinerary based entirely on their whims. The car she rented got booted and she left a note on the vehicle to buy time before being towed: "I'm on the way to pay the fine. Please don't tow the car. We're from Louisiana and don't know things". They didn't care where she was from, probably had a good laugh, and towed the car anyway. Last but not least, Kiersta was wild and fun, and made the rest of us more so. She was a constant presence during Mardi Gras, Jazz Fest, French Quarter Fest, and Shell Fests. She loved grabbing her pals and going to festivals, which she called "communities of joy." Her beautiful red (and later less red) hair was easy to spot at festivals, concerts, and other events in New Orleans. She paraded with the all-women's Pussyfooters, preparing routines months in advance. When she and Justin needed a picture of themselves as "responsible parents" for their adoption portfolio, they could only find photos of themselves in costume. They had to stage several photos of themselves with friends acting "appropriately" and "normal" instead of silly and wild. She brought people together–made an impression on them and that impression was so meaningful and positive that they had no choice but to introduce the wonder of her to other people, too. Even when Kiersta and Justin lived in Sacramento-a city that does not have regular bacchanals–they became rabid fans of the Kings basketball team.. She would not stay home. In the wake of her great light, we are left wondering why she is not here with us anymore. It isn't because she wasn't beloved: Everyone who ever met her loved her on sight. Her husband and kids adored her, and she knew it. It wasn't because she didn't love us: she showed us she did by her care and attention. We even know, based on her lifelong fight for social justice, that she loved humanity. Even so, Kiersta struggled with health issues, depression, dealt with trauma from her past, and was fighting hard to move off the Klonopin she was prescribed to treat these challenges. True to her honest and unassuming nature, she was open about these struggles throughout her life. Despite them, she woke up day after day and said "Yes"! to everyone one and everything that came her way for many, many years. And that is how we will remember her, fighting hard to build this impressive legacy in the face of challenges that would crush most people: covered in paint, feathers, and spangles; making people healthier and her community more vibrant; and creating a beautiful family and devoted network of friends through sheer determination and love. People who wish to honor Kiersta can donate to one of the following charities, which she volunteered for and were dear to her: Covenant House, the New Orleans Musician's Clinic, and Live Oak Wilderness Camp. We will celebrate her life in October, New Orleans style, at a time and location to be announced.