RIP

We know Death will win, but Death need not be proud. Johnny fought a valiant fight; and, along the way, he gained the respect of his family, friends, his doctors, and strangers. His life becomes a sort of experiment. And, in the end, the doctors could do nothing. "All the doctors!--helpless flies now, climbing across the granite face of death."

Johnny was sometimes able to function at a level that could almost be called "normal," but he was continually faced with the realization that his mind was deteriorating. His memory began to fail him, as more of the healthy tissue was taken over. As Gunther writes, "All that goes into the brain--the goodness, the wit, the sum total of enchantment in a personality, the very will, indeed the ego itself--being killed inexorably, remorselessly, by an evil growth!" And, no matter what new treatments they tried, they couldn't find a cure.

The struggle against death is a fight against the void, against the loss of life--the spark. It is, as Gunther says:

"A primitive to-the-death struggle of reason against violence, reason against disruption, reason against brute unthinking force--this was what went on in Johnny's head. What he was fighting against was the ruthless assault of chaos. What he was fighting for, as it were, the life of the human mind."

Ultimately, Death came, like a thief in the night. The warmth of his body crept away. "Then little by little the life-color left his face, his lips became blue, and his hands were cold."

...

Like John Gunther, Frances asks the big questions: "What does it mean? What can it mean, now?" But, then she draws upon the universality to her discussion of death: "Parents all over the earth who lost sons ... have felt this kind of question, and sought an answer. To me, it means loving life more, being more aware of life, of one's fellow human beings, of the earth."

I didn't know this man, but I knew of him living here in Madison. My thought are with the family.