Michael Parker

Michael Parker
02/11/2025
Dear Mike -Love you so; miss you so; thank you every day for being here with us, and for us.
I am sharing thoughts with you more publicly than I generally do in hopes of letting those whose lives you have shared, valued and touched know that you have passed--but the values you believed in and fought for remain with us and can be preserved through their ongoing passion, courage and advocacy.
Your love of family was so prominent in your life, and in ours. Being "Dad" and "Papa" meant more to you than anything. Your love of our dogs was such that friends continue to say that in their future lives they want to return as one of Mike's dogs. Many young friends, remind me that you were a "foundational person" in their lives, in their words: "there for us with your generosity of spirit, human kindness, personal engagement, joyful humor, powerful intellect and bright shining life example, creating a safe place where we could be 100% ourselves."
You brought so much to our lives through your humor, your love of nature, your glass art and photography and through your love of music - especially of Blues and Jazz. You shared your favorite musicians with us like Bessie Smith, Duke Ellington, Bill Evans, Oscar Peterson, Miles and Monk, Ahmad Jamal, Joshua Redman, Marcus Roberts and many others.
Justice, humility and humanity were your core, reflected through your determination that civility, respect and empathy drive how we treat one another. Humble and never arrogant you lived by you values. You were pragmatic, persistent and passionate in your pursuits. You loved this country and so believed in it. You so often expressed how lucky you were that your grandparents had the courage to leave their lands of origin, where they and others were being persecuted and bring their children to America. How grateful you were to have access to the "American Dream" and believed that everyone was entitled to that access. Through advocacy and teaching you embraced the responsibility of keeping that possibility open for others, and reminded us always of the need for vigilance, warning that a loss of moral conviction and hope will undermine our culture and democracy. You ran toward, not away from, difference, espousing the importance of at least considering ideas that are unfamiliar or different, not immediately crushing them.
You recognized the fragility of life, both the life of the planet and of all that inhabit it, and you worked to preserve it. You loved fishing, hiking and watching beautiful sunrises and sunsets and passed that love on to our kids and grandkids. Sports brought enjoyment for years as you cheered for teams at UC Berkeley's Harmon Gym. And your week was not complete if not coaching your elementary school-aged soccer team with whom you learned the game. You hoped they would have fun and come to share your view: "it was great if we won, but even better that we got to play."
We all know the documents and books you thought most worth fighting for, notably: the Constitution, always on your desk, and "Idols of the Tribe" by Harold R. Isaacs, who warned of the dehumanization and devastation associated with tribalism. Who, but you, gives a copy of such a book to their grandchildren prior to their tenth birthdays? You so valued fair, thoughtful reporters and journalists and the essential role they play in nurturing and guarding our culture, our humanity and our democracy from day to day.
Your own recognition of the power of words served us well. So many phrases, learned from being with you remain with us today. To share a few: "Don't put others down so you can appear to stand tall.", "Don't let the best be the enemy of the good.", "Democracy is not easy and has to be protected.", "Avoid words that cloud the mind." and "Anecdotes are not research, collected facts are not science." Like many from our generation, you took to heart the words from J.F. Kennedy's 1960 inaugural address: "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." Your life path was fueled by these words and your own strong belief in the power of a society based on inclusion and civility, not exclusion and fear.
In your 20s, shortly after Law School and a brief time practicing anti-trust law, you had what you have called "the opportunity of a life time", working in Washington D.C. where you were drafting and lobbying on the "Hill" for the 1965 Voting Rights Bill, the Medicare Bill and other social legislation associated with the "Great Society". Wonderful friendships were formed reaching "across the aisle" and collaborating with Republicans and Democrats on issues you believed in. Devastated by the consequences of the war in Vietnam and fearing that much of the work you believed in would not be funded, you opted to leave D.C. and your position of Deputy Assistant Secretary for Legislation at the U.S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, though you never lost your passion, or stopped participating in shaping and guarding the democracy you loved.
I know how honored you felt serving on the S.F. Mayor's Committee on Crime, the National Commission on Causes and Prevention of Violence Task Force, the Committee on Human Research at UCSF, the YMCA and Local School Board Committees during the 1970s and 1980s. Teaching and advocating for a holistic and humane health care system as a co-founder of the Health Policy Institute at UCSF Medical School with Dr. Phillp R Lee, Chancellor of UCSF School of Medicine and your good friend Lew Butler was another highlight of your life. During the 1980s as you became increasingly concerned about the dire consequences of nuclear proliferation, you once again did something about your concern, becoming actively involved in the Ploughshares Fund, a public grantmaking foundation dedicated to preventing the spread and use of nuclear, biological and chemical weapons.
Taking to heart the words of the cartoon character Pogo, "I have seen the enemy, and it is us," and acting on what you described as being "increasingly terrified by the realization that mankind had the genius to create the means of its own destruction but seemed not to have the wit to undo his own mischief," you sought to learn more about what shapes and influences attitudes and policy about war and weapons of mass destruction. Then in your 50s, you set an example for us by following your heart and returning to Harvard's, Kennedy School of Government, yet again as a student, focusing on foreign relations and defense policy, and sharing ideas with many you admired as you earned a Master's in Public Administration and subsequently studied at Georgetown University Graduate School of Foreign Service with Rev. Brian Hehir, whom you so greatly admired for his teaching, humanity and work as principal drafter of the U.S. Conference of Bishops Pastoral Letter on Nuclear War.
You never lost your passion or your voice. You continued to champion your values and act on your concerns for social justice and human rights, for preservation of the planet for our children, grandchildren and future generations. I think of what you would be doing now, if you could: joining with others who share your concerns and passion for preserving and defending our democracy and securing our commitment to one another - a culture based upon civility, empathy and humanity -- values so imperative if we are to coexist and not succumb to the hate and fear that can so easily divide us and have us define our neighbors as "the other".
Toward the end of your days on this planet, days affected by Parkinson's disease and aging, you frequently responded to what you heard on the nightly news with the words "Annie, I don't understand what is happening." Sadly, I often responded with "Nor do most of us."
As I lay next to you, a year ago, in the early hours of the morning, so aware of your last few breaths, I heard, so clearly the words "the lights are still on". Initially I checked to see which lights - the house? the car? Over this past year I have come to believe it was your voice, your spirit telling us that the lights are still on and at this moment when, once again, our humanity is being challenged, we must hold the hope that speaking up and continuing the fight against hatred, exclusion and dehumanization will keep the lights on. Thank you Mike, for the clarity, passion and purpose; the love-you showed us over your lifetime. We love you!
My sharing your story at this time is also inspired by NY Times journalist David Brooks' farewell article in which he wrote:
"Life is a series of daring explorations from a secure base. People need a secure base. Part of that base is emotional--unconditional attachments to family and friends. Part of that secure base is material--living in a safe community, with a measure of financial security. Part of that secure base is spiritual--living within a shared moral order, possessing faith that hard work will be rewarded, faith in a brighter future."
Brooks eloquently described what Mike embraced and fought for - an understanding of how essential it is to demand that our society be secured on humanism not tribalism, to protect and defend our democracy, and not lose the hopes we have for future generations and our planet.
Michael Parker was born on October 25, 1935, in Chicago, Illinois, and died on February 11, 2025, in Berkeley, California, at home with the family he loved.