Always With Me

I am finally calm enough to write something for/about John. It has taken me over a week - after reading about the accident involving John and his friend last May, 4 months ago. I came upon the news purely by chance while browsing the web. I was in utter shock as I read the details...and shaken to the core for many days.

I was a patient of John Austin’s, while a teenager in the early 70’s. He was a young resident at Highland Hospital. To put it plainly, and to spare the details, I will say that through his brilliance as a physican, he saved my life. While in the hospital, he was as much my doctor as a very special person and friend. It was a critical time in my life.

I moved away from CA, and we corresponded occasionally, writing letters, for several years. Over time...my parents and a portion of my family that lived in California...got to know him a bit, and share the fondness I had for him. He had a very big heart, as everyone on this site has acknowledged. I never knew him in later life, except one visit when I went to CA in the mid-70’s. I didn’t know of all his interests, his personal or professional life, but none of it surprises me. It is how I would have imagined him to be. He was inspirational at a difficult time in my life, and through his friendship and genius as a doctor, and kindness as a person, I continued on with my life...never forgetting him...

The twinkle in his eye and smile, that so many have mentioned, were the first thing I noticed about him - and I believe it was his love of Life. All life, all good things. I have always had him in my heart and mind, and always will. I always hoped I would see him again.

Interestingly, the day I read about this, my husband and I got involved with an organization here in Boston that helps house (out of state) families when sick members are in town for special medical treatments in our great hospitals. I like to think about John in this new & special connection. I won’t say goodbye (to him), because he never left me. But I do send my deepest condolences to his family and friends that had him in their lives. I cried for all of us...but also know of the gifts he left us with.

Tamara

John: Happy, happy 65th!

Paul McCartney composed John’s rhetorical question; we all watched Jacqui say, “Yes!” to each question posed:

When I get older losing my hair,
Many years from now.
Will you still be sending me a valentine
Birthday greetings bottle of wine?

If I'd been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door,
Will you still need me,
will you still feed me,
When I’m sixty-four?

Doing the garden,
digging the weeds,
Who could ask for more.
Will you still need me,
will you still feed me,
When I’m sixty-four?

John, we loved you at 64, and we love you more and miss you so very much at 65. . . as September 1st came and went, from far and wide we toasted your birthday. You live in our hearts, and the memories of the times we shared together fill our souls.

Godspeed Johnnie, Godspeed.

Stryker

Two months. . . and I cannot accept you are not in our midst.

John: It has been two months and the memories have grown more vivid. I suspect you’d have criticized several individuals for celebrations in Oakland—rather Claremont—and then Boulder, UT that provided the opportunity to reminisce about “Johnnie”, Dr. Austin, John, Dr. John, Uncle John, our “big brother”, our best friend, “my little brother” and the guy everyone had on speed dial. . . more reliable than “9-1-1”, more capable than any help-desk, any on-call mechanic, any typical uncle who’d have a nephew and his wife delivering their first child—a daughter. . . one-of-a-kind.

Well, we knew you were with us as we doted on you, talked about your remarkable intellect, your unparalleled creativity, your patience, your remarkable encouragement, your innate ability to find things in us we never knew we had, your devotion to Jacqui, your ability to convince others to suffer through those inexplicable foreign films, your love of your “Sweetie”, . . . and you never expected anything in return. You found your reward in sharing time with individuals you knew needed you or were simply, “interesting”. John, you gave so much, and now many of us are realizing there was never sufficient opportunity to express our gratitude. If you’d been there, you’d have been impressed by how smart I was at the Claremont Country Club after my sixth glass of Newton unfiltered Chardonnay in discussing your idiosyncrasies, your foibles. . . and I see you leaning back and asking, “So Warren, what have you learned, what piece of evidence can you offer to convince me you have been awakened?”

Well, “Johnnie” . . . Dr. John. . . two things: Jacqui always impressed me as “quietly tough” but I must share with you that while she will always love you and will never fill the hole you left, she is focused, organized and very smart and tough. That lady had always impressed me; this experience has taken it to a new level. Secondly, between Jim, Bryce and me, we realized it’s OK to say we love another guy. . . that being said, I think Cousin Gerry would weigh in and say that he loves you and always has, and—remarkably—Sid cried in Boulder when describing his experiences with you. . . he also stimulated some sustained laughter too. It was terrific to hear Jim, Ed, Justin, Bobby, Tim, Larry, and Alan extol your virtues. . . Alan talked about “doubles” coming at you and going away from you in Scotland. A pair of doubles. . . again, unbelievable what you could always do with an “Aw shucks!” attitude.

John I wandered through the house on the ranch. . . alfalfa panorama for a front yard. . . whether on roof deck, in the tub, or on the back patio, the slick rock back drop as the back yard is simply spectacular. . . what a dichotomy. The floor plan is spectacular, the land so special. This may be the first “new item” you have ever financed or purchased since I have known you. . . I hope to have pizza with Miss Jacqui, your “Sweetie”, in the kitchen prior to heading down to the barn to do chores. . . .

How we miss you John. . . the annual “Quail dinner” will be hosted by Senator Mathews in Nashville August 6; the theme, the focus, the preoccupation given the participants including your friends Gov. McWhorter, Gov. Bredesen, and the Senator. . . to mention nothing of Mr. Pete, Harry Lee and the entourage. . . is about you. Everyone’s friend. I thought I’d not make it because of a Board meeting, but all-of-a-sudden being with friends and extolling your virtues has taken on a new importance.

John, on August 6^th we will make fun of you, tell stories, and reminisce. . . then Phil will likely insist we stop and simply say none of us has ever, ever enjoyed a richer friendship.

John, I miss you, I think about you often, I will do anything Jacqui asks, I will tell Eva about you, I will continue to live my life knowing you made me better and I never had a chance to repay you.

How I miss you,

Stryker

Stryker Warren jr.

swarren@urologix.com

To John:

I first met John as a client of my consulting practice back in 2006. It was very clear that there was a lot to John - I guess I would call him complex (in a good way). He was clearly passionate about his company and its success but also very caring about the people that worked with him. There were many dimensions to him and I can think of many of his traits that were sometimes at odds with one another. He was smart, focused, energetic, stubborn, caring, funny, compassionate, loyal, direct, independent, loving, supportive, hard, soft and many other things all at the same time. Just a fantastic mix of things to make a special individual. Despite starting off as a purely business relationship, I am happy that our business relationship also grew into a friendship. I always found him to be true gentleman (in the "old school" sense - the world really needs more of those) and I enjoyed the time we spent together.

John gave of himself freely and openly to me and, it is clear from the comments on this page, to many other people. What I personally enjoyed most were both his keen intellect combined with his sparkling sense of humor. When I visualize him it is always with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. He had a zest for life that was infectious and something we should all try to emulate.

I was also struck by how deeply he cared for the people in his life. So many of the people he worked with have been with him for years and despite the frustrations that come with any long term relationship, the underlying mutual affection and caring was crystal clear. However, nothing was more clear than how deeply he cared for Jacqui and the special relationship they have. It was obvious that she was the cause of the great twinkle in his eye.

I'll miss him and the world is a poorer place without him in it.

I'd like to share the following poem that I've found, which I think expresses my sentiments very well.


In Celebration of a Life

A butterfly lights beside us like a sunbeam.

And for a brief moment
Its glory and beauty belong to our world.

But then it flies on again.
And though we wish it could have stayed

We feel so lucky to have seen it.


Ed Page

Dear John,

The days pass and the loss of you is still a tragedy. I think of you often and my stomach does it's swirly, agonizing thing; it's a visceral response to the thought of never seeing your wry smile again. If there's any way that you're listening in to all this, you must know by now how treasured you were, how loved by so many, and the vast number of people who's lives are richer for having some, however small, interaction with you.

The days pass; we learn to live without you; our fractured hearts slowly mend, though the scar is permanent. But what will *always* remain is the effect you had on the world. And us. You have my deep, heartfelt thanks for being.

David

Thank You, John,

Thank you, John for being my friend and my mentor.

Thank you, John for tolerating my foolishness and my emotional swings as your friend and as your employee. I am sure many times I was exactly the fool Skip has described you suffered so well.

Thank you, John for carefully and quietly guiding and comforting me as I faced losing my mother to cancer. You handed me a medical volume turned to the page that described what she had, how it would be treated and how it was likely to end, without words but with a strong hug.

Thank you, John for forcing me to figure out for myself what you could so easily have told me and then for the wry grin you would give me when I marched back into your office having finally figured out what you were pushing me to see. And for your tolerance when for the first 5 minutes I actually thought I had come up with the idea myself.

Thank you, John for creating a wonderful work environment at HPA that taught me so many things about both life and business and how they differ. The friendships developed among the people you gathered together there have lasted many, many years. It was there that I got my first glimpse of your deep and endless love for Jacqui when during your staff meeting she called and you answered in a completely different voice; lower, loving and gentle. We all got up and left as we knew we were eavesdropping on a great love affair.

Thank you, John for being willing to work with me several times since those days at HPA, and for continuing to give me your guidance without judgment. You were never without your opinions about what I was pursuing, you just were supportive of me wandering around figuring things out for myself.

Thank you, John for always taking my calls and always answering my e-mails and always asking first in these past few years if my son was safe as he was more often deployed than at home. You knew how truly terrified I was and it helped to have you ask in that incredibly warm gentle way you had of talking to me. Your profound objection to the war never got in the way of caring about my son and my heart-numbing fear.

Thank you, John for letting me from time to time get a glimpse of the amazing man behind the amazing businessman. The way you conducted your life and your long deep love affair with Jacqui is well imprinted on me and I thank you for the experience of having known you.

And one last thank you, John for I know that you forgive me for being incapable of attending your memorial because I am unable to graciously let go and accept that I will never be able to talk to you again.

Thank you, Jacqui for sharing John and your life with him. May you gain comfort from his friends and the many warm memories.

Susy (Schleuning) Kreiskott

John,

I read with shock and sadness the newspaper article reporting the death of John and his friend, Susan, in an airplane accident the end of May. The last time I saw John, his family and friends, was in 1970 when my husband and I traveled with two small children to the family retreat in Boulder. Then I lost track of him, but always had fond memories of his friendship as we studied (well, sort of) at the University of Utah.

I first met him in a Physics class at the U, the summer of 1964. It was crazy--three quarters, a years worth of physics in six weeks. Lectures every morning, a midterm or final every Friday, and labs in the afternoon Monday through Thursday. We met in the physics building, unairconditioned, of course. One experiment couldn’t be performed because the air temperature was just too high during August in Utah. I remember the lab assistant saying the first person that shocked themselves while doing experiments with electricity would fail. I shocked myself shortly thereafter but fortunately didn’t fail.

We survived physics and John drove to Boulder for R and R before returning to Covina. Before he left, he had taken me flying and we had had some good conversations. It was never small talk with him. He had a way of peeling back all the protective outer layers of a person, and really getting to what was deep down inside. I am fairly sure he loved everyone with which he had such communication. This was something new to me and I wanted to continue sharing ideas and aspirations so I wrote him: “John Austin, Boulder, Utah” because I had no idea what his address was. The letter was hand delivered by a boy on horseback who knew where John was fishing. That was back in the days when the population of Boulder was 104. I understand it has almost tripled since then.

He returned to the U for his last year before medical school. By then I had moved to a small but sincere apartment a couple of blocks from the University library. With three roommates, and friends--Rob (premed), Anil, Asit, and Alam (grad students in Biology) we had many a get together. John joined the group and became fast friends with all. I still have the card on which we all wrote our addresses. We vowed to meet in Europe in 25 years but of course it never happened. In retrospect we were like family especially with Anil, Asit, and Alam so far from home. John corresponded with some of the group when we all went our separate ways.

We were young, full of energy, and noble aspirations, and wanted to make sure that we would never “sell out” to the establishment. John once wrote: “I’ve always believed that what we are is what we can give, but I am only now seeing the relationship between our ability to give and the importance of taking. Just as surely as there can be no good without bad, there can be no giving without knowing how to take. . .Write as you can. Don’t miss any chances to live.” John gave so much and we were blessed with his caring and acceptance. Didn’t matter who you were or what you believed.

When I knew him, John believed there was nothing after you died, so live life to its fullest. That was not my belief and he knew it, but it wasn’t an issue. I don’t know if that was how he felt later in life. If he was right, he will live on for all of us in every sunset, in every loving act we extend to others, in the ranch, in his love for Jaqui. He will live on in the memories of all who knew and loved him. If there is a life after we die, I am sure he was greeted with a loving embrace by his Maker, with joy for the good life that John led, for the lives he touched.

I didn’t cry until I found the pictures I was looking for, only three from 1966 and probably a polaroid taken of the Austin residence in Boulder in 1964. With a flood of memories the tears ran down my cheeks. I am attaching them to this email. Best wishes and heartfelt condolences to Jaqui and the Austin family.

Maude Norman

How hard can it be!

These were the words I remember from my first encounter with Dr. John Austin. “How hard can it be” was the mantra for Arcadian Health Plan. The health plan was a vision for this accomplished man and his team. But it was not just another business. This was a health plan… a health plan which, not only employed hundreds of people but cared for tens of thousands of members. To John, these employees and members were his extended family.

I was proud to be a part of the Arcadian family. To know and work with John was a privilege and an enjoyment. His smile, wink of eye, tilt of the head and tassel of the hair will never be forgotten. His tremendous career as a physician, a businessman and as a pilot was model for all to follow. John, for me, will be forever remembered as a friend, a mentor, a teacher and one who inspired others. He inspired me to be the best I could be in all aspects of life including business and aviation. I will miss our talks of flying, his stories of life, the ranch and the people he knew and loved.

As they say, behind every great man is a great woman. Well John made sure that Jacqui was by his side. I will keep Jacqui in my thoughts and prayers during these extreme heartfelt times.

I was blessed to know John, the man, the physician, the businessman and the pilot and it is hard… Hard to believe the world, the land and the skies are without John Austin.

John will forever squawk one-two-zero-zero.

Steve Klaus

Mentor and Friend:

John, I contacted many of our shared acquaintances after I heard the tragic news on Friday two weeks ago. Three physician leaders responded individually, but with remarkably similar reactions when I shared the news by phone: disbelief which then shifted to concern for Jacqui. As of Tuesday evening each had reflected upon his times with you. Drs. Kishel, Rosenbloom and Kongstvedt have each weighed in with their memories of the profound impact you had upon them. John, you were so generous in “stretching” all of us who worked with you and for you: appropriate challenges and constructive criticism. . .

I knew you touched many, but I underestimated your influence and impact. These three physicians reference your special gifts: your generosity, encouragement, and caring. They clearly admired you.

John, I have always admired you and sought you out for advice and counsel. I am so gratified that your contemporaries Peter, Mark and Skip point out the remarkable influence you have had on their lives. There shall never be another like you;

Godspeed Dr. John.

swarren

Memories of John Austin

I met John in the summer of 2002 when I came to Oakland for an interview with Ken Zimmerman for a financial analyst position with Arcadian Management Services. John and Ken took me out to lunch that day and I remember John took a special interest in my Dad who was at the time in a nursing home in Yountville. They wanted me to relocate from San Diego to Oakland and I remarked that it would be good because I would be a lot closer and be able to visit Dad more frequently. Through the years John would always make a point of asking how dad was doing. Dad passed away about 3 years ago and I am just now realizing that John Austin has in many ways been a father to me and I suspect many other Arcadians.

One year at Christmas I baked some biscotti for everyone in the office from an old family recipe. John complemented me and asked for the recipe which I gave to him. At the time I was not sure if he really liked the cookies or was just being polite. The next time I baked him cookies he remarked that he hopes there will be some left for him to bring home to Jacqui. He said they ate them in one sitting the last time so after that I started giving him a bigger bag of cookies when I baked them.

One year he invited everyone in the office to his house for lunch. It was spring time and his rose garden was in full bloom. I remember thinking I want a garden like this. I have been remodeling a house for the last 3 years and John would always ask about the progress. I was planning to have John come out to the house for lunch but was waiting until I finished the yard. I have been dreaming of planting a garden which was inspired by John house in Oakland. It makes me sad that I won’t be able to share it with him.

I would sometimes tease John about his car. He was driving this old Toyota camery that must have been more than ten years old, the paint was so faded. I remember when he finally bought a new car, correction a one year old used car. One night December 2007 John and I were at the airport about midnight, we were coming back from the service center Christmas party when our flight was delayed 3 hours. We were waiting for the parking van to come pick us up in the freezing cold and I remarked that with his wealth he should have a limo driver pick him up rather than stand in the cold. He would not have anything to do with that idea. When he gave his speech at the party he singled me out of the crowd with several others because I had been with the company for so many years. I commented back that my former employer had given a gold pin and a dinner after 5 years; I thought at lease he could take me to lunch after 7 years. He laughed and promised to take me to lunch. A couple months later John took me out to lunch at one of his favorite restaurants in Piedmont. He goes there for the Duck and we had a nice lunch just the two of us.

Gary Intersimone