From Shannon:
In thinking about Ian I had lovely memories of time on the vineyard with him – tide rides, hammock time, watching him delighting in the waves at south beach, his baseball cap slightly off to the side and his lopsided gait walking down the road with his camera around his neck, him pointing at extra food at various tables throughout the years with his sly grin and you saying “forget about it!” and him giggling, him grabbing your face and kissing it tenderly, the way he would hold his pointer finger to his lips and rock, his love of noses and eyebrows, the lovely, bright sparkle of light in his eyes… When I took the time to really think about Ian I realized how much time I had spent observing him. I have a perfect image in my mind of his fingers, his toes, his gym socks pulled up his shins and his black velcro sneakers, his shorts slightly lopsided and his collared shirt half tucked in. I remember the tenderness that he evoked in me.
From Ethan Dennison:
Ian was a huge part of our family and had a profound impact on my childhood and your example of being such a dedicated mother really exemplified a deeper humanity and love than could be explained by an easier life struggle. As Julia and I embark on the next stage of our life, there is so much you have taught me, both through instruction and by example, that I know makes me a better person and, god willing , a father. ….You and your son have truly enhanced my life…
From Lee Roussel:
Here are a few initial thoughts about Ian.
I remember Ian clearly as an infant. I took a flash picture of him and he did not even blink.As a child, he had to work very hard at things that are simple for other people like eating peas, but he persisted instead of being impatient.
He was a very joyful member of the family. I saw this especially at West Chop where he took in everything. I remember how he would look sideways to notice who was near him and I observed him deciding if he would or would not acknowledge a family member. But he was very clear that the family as a whole and each member had a link to him. His joy when he arrived at West Chop was very special.
I think he transferred to the Brown House his warm feelings of how our very complicated relationships imprinted on his mind. Those physical surroundings were a very important anchor in his life. I remember what pleasure he took in visiting the Brown House two years after it was sold. Being able to process that the house was still there and looked the same was important to him.
Ian started his life with many handicaps but continually surprised me by continuing to develop, of course, with Beth’s imaginative and energetic help. As an infant, he had very little visual ability but he progressed dramatically. I watched him learn to use what vision he had to be able to move around successfully. He found his own ways of understanding who was close to him.
He could be just as annoying as a two year old, for example when he banged his head against the wall. But he continued to learn and to grow. Once he was an adolescent and was toilet trained, I thought that he had progressed as far as we could expect for him. Ian surprised me as I saw him absorb those difficult lessons that make most adolescents stumble. He worked hard when Beth coached him on how to postpone immediate gratification.
When we understood his difficulties in speaking, I thought that we could not expect him to communicate. Guess what? He fooled me again. His ability to communicate through a variety of means transformed all the ways in which he related to us. His satisfaction in producing pictures and his own ability to understand and use words in print, gave him a whole new dimension and changed how he related to us. His ability to communicate mature concepts in photographs led me to respect him as the adult he was.
I would have never guessed that it would be through writing and photography that would help him make strides in communications. His camera was an important tool for self-expression. His photograph at his one-man photography show showed him beaming with well-justified pride, but it was only one of many times he used it to communicate and make his mark on the world.
His success in his life is a tribute to the creativity, energy, and persistence of his mother.
Ian had fewer tools at his disposal to show his connection to each of us but he used them very intensely. He directly and clearly expressed his frustrations, but he was also usually willing to understand why he should be patient. He kept on learning.
From Bill Rohan:
Beth, your life reflects the values that help make our human community to be what we need it to be if we all are to thrive and flourish. So mucn courage, so much patience, so little selfishness, and at the center is the love you embodied over these years when your son needed you in a special way. He gave to you, surely, as you gave to him but he needed you. Life is the outcome of both chance and possibility it seems. But that possibility is limited by many forces within us and outside of us. It is never easy to choose what is the best, as you have done. Your connection to your son has the aura of the noble in us. I suppose we all have some such potential but the actual bearing the burden of our aspiration is a task that knocks most of down too easily, a weakness that your life proves is not inevitable. I admire you. Bill Rohan
“I will tell them that without funding we will become prisoners and not be useful citizens of Vermont and contribute to our families friends and communities.
