Memorial Service Speech - December 16, 2009

The loss of Christine is a bottomless hole, beyond understanding. Her family has lost a beloved sister, aunt, daughter. Suddenly we have lost a dear friend, an ally for the environment, a visionary whose artwork, whose writings, whose actions reflected the deepest love for the natural world. Our community has lost a powerful advocate for what is good and right, a person of the highest ethics. 

I met Christine just over a year ago, over concerns about mountain biking in our parks. Christine was dismayed at how our parks were changing – Adventurelands, she said, Disneyesque. She organized our Parks Preservation group. Although Christine didn’t see herself as a leader – she was. A true collaborator, she’d rally us by email, by phone, and in meetings. You wanted to say yes to Christine. Her vision moved us forward – with wit, insight, energy, and laser sharp focus. She never lost that focus. It was never about her – it was about protecting our natural heritage. 

Christine worked tirelessly to shine light on our government actions that were causing, for her, heart wrenching destruction of public lands. She spoke at so many meetings, wrote letters, contacted reporters, met with the Attorney General’s office. Her vision for parks was clear, “A natural refuge for people in urban areas” she said, “for quiet enjoyment…for preservation of nature.” "Anything less," Christine wrote, was “a betrayal of the public trust.” 

My inbox overflowed with her notes. We brainstormed, we schemed, we planned. We edited each other’s writing. We were often in touch several times a day. How I miss her. 

The natural world nourished her. She loved plants…wetlands… all things natural. “I’d rather be working on weeds,” she wrote, preferring wild nature to battles. We had begun work on a field guide that was to use her exquisite photos. We slogged through Bergen Swamp – she wanted to document with photographs a new invasive species. And she quickly spread the word – despite being in the middle of her own grief, and about to leave town for her sister-in-law’s memorial. 

Christine’s invasive species work was amazing. She got input from so many experts – sometimes conflicting - yet she distilled it and created her beautiful, informative guides. It was about protecting habitats, about teaching, and changing behavior of individuals, of developers, of governments. 

When Christine learned a wetland in Brighton was being threatened by poorly planned development, she was onto it. “Long live the chorus frogs” she wrote. She met me at the site, photographed wetland plants –sedges- and gave compelling testimony to the Planning Board. They listened. We celebrated. It was the only victory in a difficult year. 

Christine’s rich and complex life moved on so many fronts: arts and music were central. Often her interests combined – her calendars and guides are works of art. Last spring she brought environmental groups together at a Madrigalia concert. It was to show - Christine’s words here - “connections between one of our most organic art forms, choral singing, and our care for the natural beauty around us.” It was a fabulous success. 

How many people she touched, how much she had already accomplished. And there was so much more ahead that we’ll never see. Christine – we’ll never forget you – your spirit and vision live on.