Goodbye, Leslie Harpold.
I only knew Leslie Harpold briefly, our paths crossing at parties thrown by mutual friends. She also featured at a reading series I hosted once upon a time.
I can’t say I knew her well or that we were even friends but I do remember being impressed by her intelligence, creativity and vigor for life. She was also from Michigan, which made me like her more.
There are precious few of these sorts of people in the world. Losing one makes our lives glow dimly instead of bright.
Her death at age 40 leaves me shaken. I haven’t been able to find out what happened or how she died. All evidence indicates that she came down with bronchitis and then, I don’t know. Her mom found her when Leslie did not answer repeated phone calls.
I suppose it doesn’t really matter. Death doesn’t ask our permission. It drops in, leaves and lets us clean up.
Leslie’s memory will live in the body of work she created, the people that loved her and those of us who only knew her a little but were glad we did.
Sail on, Leslie. We’ll try to live up to the standard you set.