Alfred E. Tisch, 1934-2002

As a young girl, I knew I would work with my dad and used to tell him so. During his recovery from jaw surgery in 2001, that vision became a reality. Unable to go back to work (as a stock broker), he had nothing but time and I had nothing but deadlines. Together we worked on many projects and got so immersed in them that we never seemed to get to bed before 2:00 A.M. Dad had always been a talented writer, but something changed after his surgery. He would wake up daily with the perfect titles of books and chapter headings for my clients. They were astonished by how inspired he was and began calling him the "title guru." We were all thrilled and amazed (especially him), although he came to say, "Don't thank me, this is from a higher place" I'd sit mesmerized as I'd tell Dad a subject and minutes later, he'd scribble a home-run title down on the nearest paper.

My father was in love with the redwoods, and enamored with my business, and we decided to partner together in charity and in work if he lived. How I miss how he'd help me tighten my articles! I'm forever grateful to you, my "father of the forest," and will miss your eternal optimism and enthusiasm, and your ceaseless commitment to what it means to be a good person and a first-rate citizen of this country and our globe.

Growing up, my grandmother frequently talked of the family tragedy--the day my 22-year-old father had to identify his father and little sister's bodies after a car accident took their lives (Grandma was in a coma for weeks). I never knew anything about the accident, other than that the car who hit them was a large truck. At Dad's funeral, however, I was amazed to learn from my father's brother, Dan, that my grandfather and his five-year-old child were killed by a logging truck! I was speechless, remembering all the times throughout my life that the sight of a logging truck loaded with freshly cut trees would bring tears to my eyes. I assumed I was grieving for the loss of life before me. Now I wonder if the loss of life in my family has always played an unconscious part in my environmental dreams/goals--especially toward finding more conscious ways to manage our forests. Wow.

This tribute is to both of my parents. Dad and I joked about how we couldn't hold a candle to Mom's memory or her bookish genius. We both owned copies of Stanford University professor Dr. Lubert Stryer's Biochemistry textbook that she edited over and over, but we would never have attempted to work on that project! We could barely even read the text, much less understand it (can anyone tell me what Fluorodinitrobenzene is, or how to pronounce dicyclohexylcarbodiimide?). Mom blew us away!

Joanne Tisch, 1936-1996

For those of you whose parents are still alive, I hope you're able to take the time to enjoy them. Heal the past. Mend old fences. Laugh easily and forgive readily. I was lucky. I lost my "rental units" (as Mom called herself and Dad) early, but still had them into adulthood. Everyone should be so blessed!

Mom, Dad, wherever you are, I love you with all of my heart. Thank you for teaching me that protecting the environment and my family are one and the same. (And, Mom, I can't tell you how much fun it is sharing your funny, quirky, and inventive green tips. Dang you were ahead of your time!) I’ll be watching and listening every day for any inspiration you may want to whisper into the wind.

Forever Yours— have I told you lately?

"Daughter #1" (as in, first born)
xxoo