Mark was a Christmas baby. Well, he came the week before Santa, on December 19. Mary and I were living in Northwest Indiana in 1983 when he was born. He was the bright spot in a bleak winter for his young parents, living 1,000 miles from family.
On a life scale of 1-10, with 10 being those top-of-the-rollercoaster events that are rare and maybe occur a few times over a lifetime—Mark’s birth was a 10 for us. Consequently, his death back in January would be the lowest point on the scale: a certified 1!
Mark and cousins, Christmas pageantry circa, 1990
Holidays can be a mixed bag. If you aren’t the kind of person who gets “geeked out” by commercialism and gifts, then the period between Thanksgiving and the first of the year can be a bit much. That would be me and how I generally feel each year during this stretch. Mary was always the opposite, which is why I began calling her “Mary Christmas,” for her unabashed enthusiasm for the “Ho, Ho, Ho,” and the “mistletoe” of Christmas. But 2017 is a somber holiday for her, too.
Even the things I’ve often come back to, Christmas after Christmas: Jimmy Stewart in “It’s a Wonderful Life” and Linus’ beautiful soliloquy at the end of “A Charlie Brown Christmas” that usually elicits tears, or Bing Crosby singing “White Christmas”: these all lack their usual luster this year.
Not trying to be a Scrooge, but the first Christmas season without Mark is just really hard. We miss him so much!
On Tuesday, Mark would have been 34. Prior to being killed, it seemed like he had life by the tail and was on an upward trek with his writing and how he was living his life. He was just hitting his stride as a human. If you’ve been following the story then you know most of these details.
As we close out 2017, the worst year of my life and Mark’s mom Mary’s life, we’ve been doing our best to fend off feelings of sadness and even hopelessness at times, while navigating our way through grief.
I’m a writer, so I’ve approached Mark’s death by writing about it and him. Some of this has appeared on my blog. However, back in October, I began watching the daily video he’d posted from the road a year ago. So, for instance, on Friday, October 13, one year after Mark left his house on Pleasant Street in Providence and began making his way west on his walk, I watched the video (and reread his blog post) from Day 001. I’ve watched every video since, just viewing the one from Day 064, when he walked onto a Greyhound bus in Zanesville, Ohio, bound for Jacksonville. Snow in Ohio (and the chemicals used to treat the roadways so cars can continue speeding along oblivious to Mother Nature’s whims) had made continuing where he was at impossible.
Who knew that his decision to move his walk to sunny (and warm) Florida would offer up such a tragic end. Most of us simply thought it was a good idea that he was getting out of the snow and cold, while continuing westward on his journey.
The videos have been serving as a kind of writing prompt for me, allowing a deeper “dive” into Mark’s life and my experience as his father. Stay tuned for more details on that front.
Mary and I are very pleased to announce that the Mark Baumer Sustainability Fund is now a Section 501(c)(3) nonprofit, as we’re now incorporated with the IRS. That means that any donations made to the Mark Baumer Sustainability Fund from this point forward are tax exempt. Being a nonprofit will also allow us greater opportunities for partnership and growing the scope of what we want to do in keeping Mark’s memory and vision alive.
As a nonprofit, we’ve formed a board. We’ve added two experienced people to support Mary and me as we seek to move the organization forward in 2018. I’ll have additional details and short bios in the Spring issue of the newsletter. We’ll also begin laying out our strategy for the year.
Additionally, our brand new website will be live on Monday (we hope). Donations can now be made at The Mark Baumer Sustainability Fund site (rather than the GoFundME page that we’ll be taking down at the start of the year). Please bookmark the new URL and check back regularly. Share it with friends and any others that you think would like to know about Mark and his amazing life, and the things that mattered to him.
Hallmark really doesn’t make a card with a holiday greeting capturing how we’re feeling this year. However, Mary did find a card at a local, indie bookstore that incorporates the following Irish blessing. It seems more appropriate than the usual, “Happy Holidays” wish offered.
The cover of Mark’s final book, I am a road
May you and your family have warm words on a cold evening. A full moon on a dark night, and a smooth road all the way to your door. We both wish that you experience simple pleasures this season.
Be kind, tell those who matter to you that you love them and care about them. Find some way to pay your good fortune forward, as not everyone is so lucky.
Thank you to everyone who stood with us over the past year. We are grateful to those who made generous donations, allowing us to get the fund going and even, funding our first projects over the summer of 2017. There will be many exciting things to share in the coming months.
We’d also ask that you consider making a contribution in memory of Mark next week on his birthday, December 19. Mark would be especially happy if you took off your shoes and felt the Earth with your bare feet, too.
Copies of Mark’s final book, I am a road that he released just prior to leaving Providence in October are still available. The book is Mark’s uniquely skewered narrative of his first walk across America (the one he completed in 81 days). Purchasing one of these books is another way you can support the sustainability fund.
As always, feel free to connect with us via email at contact[at]markbaumersustainabilityfund[dot]org. If you still do the handwritten thing (which is very cool!), a note to P.O. Box 10602 in Portland, Maine 04104 would make us very happy, too.
We will never stop thinking of you Mark. We miss you each and every day.
~Jim
The ability of planet earth to support humanity is literally crumbling and people basically just want to hug all their comforts as the world burns around them.
-Mark Baumer (Mark-isms)