A Tribute to Jon Lundin

“That a man is successful who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much, who has gained the respect of the intelligent men and the love of children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; who leaves the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul; who never lacked appreciation of earth's beauty or failed to express it; who looked for the best in others and gave the best he had.”   -   Robert Louis Stevenson 

Word spread like wildfire throughout the community.  Rockford had lost one of its finest, one of its most brilliant, most visionary, most truly one of its own.  And the shock reverberated on and on, touching every corner of the community that Jon Lundin had inhabited – larger than life, bigger than the words he set to paper, grander than the ideas he had spawned.  How, we wondered, would we continue on without him? 

How would we attend another Abilities Center meeting without his shining vision to continually reinvent us and make us whole.  Who would share our many new ideas and make them real?  Who would react, when we worried about the future of an historic downtown building, by acquiring that building and saving it.  It was he we went to with the next building on the list – who would save it now? 

And who would care enough about a dilapidated street on the southeast side of Rockford to make it his company’s home?  And build a beautiful park in memory of a beloved Board member, then lovingly restore the dilapidated old houses around it, so that those he served might have a place to call “home”.  And who would so mourn those homes and that park when threatened by a proposed multi-lane road through his recently restored area of town – who but our Jon? 

Who would write our histories as well, or help our companies so well, or find work for good people who found themselves in a jobless world.  And who would care so passionately about the community in which he lived, the family he loved, the people he served.  “The good die young,” we said in sadness and disbelief.  “No one will ever replace him,” we mourned, wishing that we could walk into a room and just once more see his easy smile, hear his joyous laugh, and share his latest new idea or greatest new solution.  Who would ever tell the story of his wife’s first musky catch so well?  Who could ever fill his very large shoes? 

No one would ever replace him, we knew, but we were grateful that our lives were so much richer for having known him.  We are all at a very great loss  - from the city of Rockford to the Northwoods of Wisconsin.  We will share stories of him for a long time to come and keep his spirit with us. We will draw on his passion for helping others and for working to make our community the best it can be.  And we will be ever thankful that a great man touched our lives. 

And as for heaven . . .  I guess that probably just puts him up north sitting on the cabin porch, looking out over the lake at sunset, smelling a wood campfire and thinking up new ideas . . . totally at peace.

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