Clinging to Optimism in the Face of Bewilderment

My beautiful nephew, through his spirit and deeds, made a remarkable difference in 35 years. His name was John Alexander Bowen. He was born on March 3, 1987, and died on April 16, 2022. Our family, as well as his friends and colleagues, are mourning this loss and left in a state of bewilderment.

We ask why our beloved John, who was doing so much good, was taken just as he was launching his life's work? Mission aborted. What are we left with in the shadows of this tragedy? In this blog I will share two things that come to mind. But first let me tell you about John.

John felt a calling to become a volunteer fireman at age sixteen while he was in high school. After graduating and attending university, he decided to become a professional fireman and joined the Fayetteville Fire Department, graduating from the Fire Academy in 2008. He rose the ranks from Lieutenant, to Company Captain, to Battalion Chief, managing six stations in 2019, at age 34.

Noting his combination of attributes -calm, collected, and pensive while also being kind, brave, selfless, generous, and fun-loving - made him a likely choice for senior-level, First Responder trainings in bio-hazard containment, and national disaster response. John bore these responsibilities well, taking him beyond his day-to-day work of putting out fires, pulling people from burning vehicles, and delivering babies when he was the first to arrive.

In 2020, John was given the honor to receive George Floyd's coffin at the Fayetteville, NC airport and escort it to burial. George Perry Floyd Jr. was an African-American man who was murdered by a police officer in Minneapolis, Minnesota, during an arrest after a store clerk suspected Floyd may have used a counterfeit twenty-dollar bill, on May 25, 2020. John wrote about this moving experience, greeting the family and extending his condolences to them, especially sensitive because it was someone in a uniform similar to his that killed Floyd. John concluded, "I hope and pray for the day when police chiefs and sheriffs don't have to do what we did today."

His sister, Holly, responded to his post, "I am so proud & so very touched that he was able to pay respects to George Floyd and his family by being there and showing them love and participating in the huge honor of escorting George Floyd’s body off of that plane as they prepared for his service in Hoke Co."

I once asked John why the fire department wastes resources by responding to 911 calls for an ambulance. I told him that I am perplexed when I drive by a house and see an ambulance team carrying a person out of the house on a stretcher, with a battery of fire department vehicles filling the lawn. Seems like they are frittering away taxpayer dollars. "Why do you do that?" I asked John.

John looked at me and grinned. He had the same crystal blue twinkle in his eyes as his dad, my brother Ron, who died of Parkinson's less than two years before John would follow his dad. Then he replied, "Because we get there first and are better trained to save lives."

I looked back at John, and said, "Now, I know. Thank you for being there. I would so want to have you answer the call if I fell down the stairs, sliced my hand cutting a bagel, or inhaled chemicals from my cleaning supplies." John was there for everybody. We need to be there for him, but what does that mean now that he is gone?

Perhaps we can start by adopting his willingness to help anyone in need. I read stories left by John's colleagues and neighbors on his Facebook page since he passed. Here are some examples that will give you the ilk of this young man:

John was always worried about someone else, and always concerned about what someone else was feeling and not feel sorry for himself. He was that kind of fellow.

What always stuck out to me the most about John was his willingness to love people no matter where they come from or what they look like. He was always looking for opportunities to help those who were in need. He always placed other people above himself!

He gave when we didn't deserve what we received. He listened even if we weren't ready to talk. He forgave when we thought no one would. He offered strength at our weakest times.

He put everyone else first.

We got a phone call at the WFNC radio station this morning from this gentleman, John Bowen, who is a firefighter with the Fayetteville Fire Department. He had heard about the WFNC Fan Club and was hoping we could help him out with a small mission: An elderly gentleman, who is a neighbor of the Fire Station is without air conditioning. He is currently receiving treatment at the VA hospital but when he returns home, he will have no way to stay cool. Well, thanks to listeners, Mr. Bowen was able to install an air conditioner for the elderly veteran.

Several years ago, while both of us were tailgating at a concert, I dumbly locked my keys in my car (three hours from home). He was the one who volunteered his AAA service and hung out with me until a few hours after the show to make sure I wasn’t stranded. He barely knew me and didn’t have to do this but it was in his spirit to give and help. This is only a small example but it speaks volumes about John's generosity.

"During my short tenure at Fayetteville Fire Department, I spent the last 4 years in Community Risk Reduction. One day I get a Call from Chief John Bowen regarding a young lady who stopped by to see about a replacement car seat for her son. This is something the fire department does on a regular basis however this time was a little different. The lady's son had special needs and the car seat was over $3000. I told her we couldn’t make any promises but we would work on it.

After talking with the young lady, I called Chief Bowen back and told him the news and the cost of the seat. He said that if we could not get a private donor just let him know and he would buy it himself. Chief Bowen has always been selfless, putting others first. The world needs more John Bowens!

There is a post commemorating John's good deeds toward another special needs child whose mom contacted the fire station about her son's only Christmas wish-a fireman's hat. John invited the boy and his mom into the station for a Christmas celebration, where John gave the child his own first fireman's hat, a badge he had once earned as a young volunteer and other out of service fire paraphernalia. A year later, John invited the child back for a surprise birthday party. The mother talked about how much this meant to her child, and how heartbroken she and her son were to hear about John's cancer diagnosis.

I am compelled to share one more of many commemorative posts from people who worked with him, and launched an initiative called #BowenStrong, to help him through this struggle with a solidarity force of shaved heads and praying arm band wearers.

It was a delightful post reminding us that John paid attention to the little things, which really mattered to employee morale. Here's the firefighter's story about losing his favorite vending machine drink.

When we were at Station 3 we had a Coke vending machine in the bay. At the time I was really into Coke Zero, and would buy one from the vending machine each day to have with lunch. We all had our soft drinks of preference that would get us through the shift, and Coke Zero was mine.

One morning I came into Station 3 and noticed that the Coke Zero had been removed from the vending machine and had been replaced with something awful like Sunkist. I was understandably devastated. After a few days I called the Coke distributor's number on the machine and left a message asking if the Coke Zero could be replaced. I never heard back. Because the Coke guy never seemed to come by on an A shift day, I took to taping handwritten notes to the front of the Coke machine asking if he could give us our Coke Zero back. The notes were always ignored. I gave up and got over it.

Fast forward to a year later, and Captain Bowen had been promoted to Battalion Chief Bowen and was Battalion 2 on B Shift. While doing his station rounds one morning, a Coca-Cola truck pulled up at one of the fire stations. Without hesitation, BC Bowen went over to the driver and said, "Hey man, we really need some Coke Zero put back in the machine at Station 3." The driver replied, "Sorry, that's not part of my route". Bowen, not taking "no" for an answer, said, "OK, well it needs to happen. I don't care who you need to talk to, but you can tell them that BATTALION CHIEF John Bowen said that Station 3 needs its Coke Zero back."

Within a week, we had not one but two Coke Zero buttons added to the Coke Machine at Station 3. That's the kind of leader he was... he wasn't even my Captain or on my shift anymore, but he still fought for his guys even for things that seemed trivial, because he knew it would make us happy. He was one of a kind.

John also quietly advanced careers of women firefighters who struggled in a male-dominated industry. He received a letter from one female fire fighter during his final days in the hospital (se above) and a FB post from another who said: "Through the years he has done so much for me as well as my family, he had faith in me and was not only responsible for putting me in my fire lieutenant position, but surprised me by making sure my dad was there. I wish we'd all got a picture together. He helped me move into my first home, throughout my mom's battle with cancer and every day past it he has continually checked in on my mom and dad, he wrote my dad's last call then planned and hosted my dad's retirement party and these are just a few of the ways he has been there for my family."

The anecdotes above depict the first thing I concluded from John's short life: One person can make a critical difference in spreading happiness and hope in this troubled world through countless small acts to one person after the next. These all add up to a huge ripple effect of goodwill, encouraging others to play it forward. That is John's lesson and what he would want us to do.

While I was working on this piece I set out to Marmalade Café to write and eat a late breakfast. I ordered avocado toast topped with fried eggs and bourbon tomato marmalade. My mouth watering, I reached in my bag to pay and discovered that I did not have my wallet. Disappointed, I told the waiter to cancel my order. The waiter, named Wade, told me he would pay the $11 and I could pay him later. He made my day. I returned with payment plus a good tip to thank him for his trust, knowing John was smiling down at the kind waiter and at me.

Now I want to share my second reflection about John's life that deals with cancer, the toxic condition of our environment and choosing between futility and action to address the current climate calamity and give our children a healthy, bright future. If John's death was caused by toxins it should be a call to action. It is for me.

About the time I learned that John was diagnosed with colon cancer, I was thinking a lot about the deteriorating condition of our environment, and bearing some guilt that I wasn't doing much of anything to address the problem. I wondered if John's cancer was caused by the toxin exposure in his work.

I was reading a novel called Bewilderment, by Pulitzer Prize winning author Richard Powell. In the story, an astrobiologist searches for life throughout the cosmos while single-handedly raising an unusual nine-year old child, Robin, following the mysterious death of his wife, who was a climate change activist. Robin spends hours painting pictures of endangered species and worrying about extinction. The child become increasingly maddened by the soulless detachment of people toward extinction of human and animal life on earth. The very sad ending to this novel is a call to arms, telling us that if for no other reason, we must move from a passive to active stance to save the world for everybody's children and grandchildren.

After reading the book I naturally thought about John's cancer, that of my niece also diagnosed with cancer at age 34 and thankfully cured, a young woman, mid-thirties, who stayed in our Airbnb to rest from treatment for breast cancer, and the next week's guests, who were mourning the death of their daughter, age 32, from brain cancer. Overwhelmed by the tragedies, I spoke to a dear friend, Pamela Putney, an international health expert, who said this, "We are contaminating the planet at an unprecedented rate and the cancer rates (especially in young people) reflect that."

WRAL television from Raleigh, North Carolina, covered John's funeral on the evening news. It was a nice tribute showing hundreds of firefighters honoring John with a formal send-off given to their hero's. The reporter had this to say: "For firefighters, cancer risks are greater than the flames. We don't know whether all the hazardous materials at fire scenes is linked to increased incidents of cancer but many fellow firemen believe that they do. This station has investigated the occupational hazards of firefighting over several years."

The fire department is well aware of the occupational hazards and has designated officers assigned to the Fayetteville Fire Department Cancer Academy to provide annual cancer awareness seminars so #EverybodyGoesHomeWell. One of the Fayetteville City Firefighters wrote that he knew of six firefighters that had died of cancer since he joined the force. He recorded this story on John's FB page: "In late November or early December Bowen called to tell me he had been diagnosed with colon cancer. I was so devastated to hear this news to say the least. But in Bowen style, he told me it would be ok... he said he needed to be a part of the next cancer awareness academy class. Bowen wanted to share his story in hopes of saving a firefighter’s life through the cancer initiative program."

Once John received his cancer diagnosis, he spent his last six months, coaching other firemen, about early warning signs and the importance of preventive health checks and tests, as he also scoured the terrain to find ways he could make a difference in the time he was left.

John began to coach his teams in cancer prevention. This is one of his posts:

I can’t stress it enough, get screened and go to your healthcare provider if you aren’t feeling right. It may save your life! We often hear from firefighters “it’s too late for me, I’ve been eating smoke for so long it doesn’t matter what I do now.” That couldn’t be further from the truth. We do need to be better about our habits at incidents, but prevention is just one piece of the puzzle.

Awareness (and taking the risk seriously) is the first step, trust me, it CAN happen to you. The second is our prevention effort. Third is screening and early detection. It’s not too late to catch it early for anyone, no matter how much you feel like you’ve been exposed to carcinogens. You’d much rather go to the doctor and find a polyp from a regular diagnostic than wait until you are having major surgery and radiation/chemo. Follow the recommended screening and go get checked out if you don’t feel right!

And if you just aren’t sure what to do or think about your cancer risk or any symptoms you’re having, call me. I’m no expert, but I’m happy to talk to anyone who wants to hear about my experience thus far.

I am tormented to imagine the grief of my sister-in-law, Ann, who has lost her only son, and John's sisters Nada Werner and Holly Reardon, their husbands, and children. The grief of any parent who loses a child before his or her life barely begins is unfathomable.

If our toxic environment has anything to do with extinguishing their flame we have to do something about it. If you use round-up on your weeds, call the pest control to spray your house, buy vegetables sprayed with pesticides from chemically unregulated countries or allow hog farms owned by China to pollute North Carolina's drinking water, think of John.

We suffer bewilderment. Stupefaction, puzzlement, disbelief, incredulity, blinding consternation. A stunned state. We feel helpless to save our children, to act against the lack of big picture, long-range, and humanistic thinking by our governments and the special interest lobbyists who shape government policies, those blinded by greed for massive wealth they can't use in a lifetime leaving scorched earth in the wake for the rest of us.

Instead of pointing a finger at "others", I need to think about the choices I make that destroy or strengthen our environment. I am prone to say that as one person, what I do doesn't really matter in the cosmos. But thinking about John and the way he lived his life, I realized there might be a lesson here as well.

A book, All We Can Save – Truth, Courage and Solutions for the Climate Crisis, and a chat with my daughter, a conservation scientist, helped me to see that individuals most certainly can make a difference in the battle to clean up the environment. I've been wallowing in bewilderment, while my daughter, Bronwyn, and All We Can Save editors, Ayana Elizabeth Johnson and Katherine Wilkinson, cling to optimism.

All We Can Save illuminates the expertise and insights of dozens of diverse women leading on climate in the US –scientists, journalists, farmers, lawyers, teachers, activists, and innovators, across generations, geographies, and races who aim to advance a more representative, solution-oriented, public conversation on the climate crisis.

The book's editors call for a mosaic of voices – the full spectrum of ideas and insights for how we can turn things around. They see the climate crisis as a leadership crisis. "The climate crisis is the result of social, political and economic systems that are widely skewed to benefit those who already have so much. It is the result of unfettered economic growth, extractive capitalism, and the concentration of wealth and power in the hands of a few, who have known plenty but cared too little and continue to block efforts for climate change. Our species and ecosystems cannot survive the status quo."

The collection of essays reveal that a renaissance is blooming in the climate movement, leadership that is rooted in compassion, connection, creativity, and collaboration. The stories show us that individuals are making a difference, following the theme of the poem that opens the book, one that reminds me of John, who with no extraordinary power, changed the world.

My heart is moved by all I cannot save;

So much has been destroyed.

I have to cast my lot with those

who age after age, perversely,

with no extraordinary power

reconstitute the world.

By Adrienne Rich

Encouraged, I asked my daughter if there is anything individuals can do that will make a difference. Bronwyn said that if consumers make demands on big companies they will act. Walmart, for example, has promised to be carbon negative by 2030. Amazon and Starbucks have developed their own climate pledges and strategies. Bronwyn says that everyday choices matter. There is a shift in manufacturing from plastic to cardboard containers due to consumer demand, but this trend will be threatened by oil companies, who see their future in plastics, as cars go electric.

Bronwyn suggested six ways I can save the planet:

1. Avoid single use plastics. Plastics have been found in fish and blood stream of humans. Use my own shopping bags. Buy in bulk. Buy products in cardboard versus plastic.

2. Invest in technologies to reduce my energy consumption. Smart thermostats, solar panels, buy an electric car.

3. Make choices that are green:

a. Plant native species that do not need much water to survive.

b. Plant more trees.

c. Pay attention to how interconnected our world is. Know the down-stream effects of my choices.

4. Buy Local - Think about my carbon footprint in everything. Buying organic from California requires massive fossil fuel to ship across country and is ultimately less healthy than buying from local farmers, even if not organic. Support local nurseries that grow plants from seeds and cuttings, versus big box stores that ship plants in from other regions.

5. Reduce consumption of meat. Beef is the most problematic because it is grown in feed lots, using huge amounts of water to grow corn to make grain. Cows are supposed to eat grass. Support farmers that follow good practices. This is more important than being organic.

Bronwyn gave an example of a farmer in Durham County , NC who uses an old fashioned system of raising animals, managing multiple fields, and rotating annually what happens in the fields. Year 1- crops. Year-2 free range pigs. They eat leftover crops and root, turning over the soil and fertilizing it. Year-3 trades pigs for chickens. They eat crop pests, scratch and turn over the soil, and clean up after the pigs. Year-4, she leaves field fallow. Year-5 plant she plants food crops again. This farmer then has a rich fertilized field now ready to plant vegetables while she also has happy healthy animals. Support farms like this. Pay more for the meat, and eat less.

6. Press for government regulations to control industrial products and practices that are making people sick. People like John.

John's loss weighs heavily on me. Standing in the cemetery, my chest filled with stones, I took peace in the surrounding. I was so grateful for the firefighters standing in salute, the escort of his body by firetruck guard, the enormous America Flag blocking the rural highway so that John could make his final trip down the dirt road to the old church cemetery in the woods, that his father, my brother, had restored and where John was buried head to head with his dad.

I remembered my visit with John at Duke Hospital, whose palliative care doctors and nurses gave him the best of care in his final days, and who told the family that "John did more for us than we did for him. A nurse that had cared for him in the Fayetteville ER had a similar reaction. "He was kind, appreciative, and hilarious. His strength was unbelievable. This guy was facing so much unknown. Yet he had so much respect for everyone around him, he apologized when he shouldn’t have, he faced his battle not with self-pity, but with courage, he gave off such positive energy."

I sat by John's hospital bed and made him smile when I thanked him for finally teaching my son, Chas, at almost three years, how to pee in the "potty" when no one else could convince Chas that it was time to grow up, and for also teaching his cousin Chas to ward off dangers with a wooden rifle, which my brother made for Chas, even though he knew we didn't allow

Chas to play with toy guns.

His obituary made me think of John and Chas as kids, dripping with summer sweat, wearing cowboy boots and hats, standing ready for anything with their wooden rifles (which Chas still has).

The obituary stated that John "had an idyllic childhood growing up on an 1860's farm enjoying all the pleasures a young child could imagine – exploring the woods along-side his best buddy, Scott Collier, hunting, fishing and trailing after his dad, whom he adored.

His toys were those of children long ago – a shovel, stick rope, bike, and endless imagination.

Suddenly, I recalled something that my son said to me days before John's funeral and it made sense. "If I have children they are only going to have five toys." Those toys are probably the ones Chas remembered from John's childhood and the great times they had playing together in their imaginary world. Here the boys, along with cousins Hannah and Rebekah are playing on the farm.

At John's funeral we all thought about John's remarkable life. You could see that in the faces of attendees lost in remembrance. My brother, Joe Bowen, went to the podium and told a delightful tale that made us all laugh, as it also portrayed John's caliber. Joe's story went like this.

"I was bear hunting down in Bladen county with my brother, some other men, and John who was twelve or thirteen years old. If you know Bladen county, it is a deep scrubby forest full of briars. It was the last day of hunting season and we could hear that the dogs had treed a bear deep in the forest. I was going to go in for the dogs and I asked who wanted to go with me.

I looked around and no one raised their hand, except John. So John and his dad, Ron, my brother went with me. We went into the forest about 2 PM and it was 2 AM before we made it back out to the road, that's how rough the country was. That's the first time I've known John to volunteer."

"A few days later, John's dad, Ron, told John that there was a lesson to be learned in that bear hunting affair. This is what he said, "Anytime you go bear hunting with your uncle Joe and he asks who will volunteer to go and the men are standing around and no one raises their hand, you don't raise yours."

Photos of John and Uncle Joe, and John with cousin Joseph bear hunting in Maine in recent years. John loved to visit Uncle Joe's Maine lodge in summers, and more than once the story of John's first bear hunt in Bladen County was remembered.

Joe finished his story and said that John had never let him down, even at the end. He told us that John called him at his home in Maine from Duke Hospital in Durham, NC, to tell him that the doctor gave him less than a week to live. Joe immediately went to be with John. He recalled that John didn't bemoan his situation, he faced it with strength of character. Joe reminded us that this was John's caliber. He raised his hand.

My brother Joe is a quiet and intuitive person, not one to speak in front of crowds. It was a beautifully spoken eulogy and made me think that the power of John's life was in how he always raised his hand to volunteer and in turn set the example for everyone around him. My brother Joe was so moved by the significance of John's life that he was compelled to speak before a crowd which does not come easily for him. We all benefited from that story, just as we continue to grow from the memories that have been posted letting us know how so many small acts add up to something significant, a life well-lived and daily deeds, inspirational to others.

At the graveside, the bugler and bagpiper played for John. We watched his young nephews walk across the field to light John's final salute, the firing of his dad's civil war canon. I reflected back on sitting in John's hospital room when John was instructing his nephews, Will and Bowen Werner, about the steps to safely fire the canon, although John laughed and said he wasn't absolutely sure about the amount of gunpowder to use.

My brother, Ron, had just finished the restoration of this canon before he died from Parkinson's disease in May, 2020. With John's help, Ron enjoyed the thrilling experience of firing the canon two days before he died. John fired the canon at Ron's funeral, and in turn his nephews, Will and Bowen, fired it at John's funeral, their tribute to a great man who will forever shape the choices they make in their lives.

I started this story wondering what purpose might be revealed from John's death. I concluded that John showed us through example that one single person can change the world through small daily actions to reverse the suffering of others and by paying attention to the way you live your life. I decided to do more for others, even strangers, especially strangers. Considering the possibility that John's cancer was caused by environmental toxins, I made a commitment to follow the six steps my daughter suggested to build a healthier world for our children. Our world is in such a fragile state. If we have the power to do good, then we must, following John's example.

I've thought long and hard about how to conclude my tribute to John. But I will leave you not with my words, but a tribute shared by his fellow fireman, Jason Hatchcock, who escorted John's body from church to cemetery in the firetruck and finally with the poetry of Wendell Berry and Ralph Waldo Emerson.

John Hatchcock's tribute as follows:

They say when a person dies, the mark the individual leaves on the world represents that individual's legacy. While a person's legacy can involve many things, the concept of legacy is much larger than anything monetary or tangible. It is about the richness of the individual's life, including what that person accomplished and the impact they had within the heart, mind, and spirit of people. Ultimately, the story of a person's life reflects the individual's legacy.

There have been so many stories shared of the man behind the uniform, but what matters even more is what that person does when they are not in uniform and when no one is looking. That thing we refer to as a moral compass that exists based on an individual’s character, values, beliefs, ethics, and morals that guides decision making and helps to separate right and wrong. I can personally attest like several others and assure that the bearing of his moral compass was directionally accurate.

We said goodbye for today, but we will see each other later. We will continue to honor your legacy every opportunity we get. We will always try to orient our moral compass to true north. You were the epitome of what every person should strive to be and if we could all reciprocate a small fraction of that, the world would be a much better place. In totality, you were a great man “in and out of the uniform” that didn’t waiver and I deeply valued our friendship. It was an absolute honor riding right beside you today knowing that you were smiling down on all of us.

John loved poetry. His favorite poets were Wendell Berry, Robert Frost, and Ralph Waldo Emerson, who wrote fitting poems to honor John. Their poetry spoke to John's heart and gave him peace. May they also fill the deep well of sorrow, gratitude, and inspiration he left behind.

In this final photo, John is learning to make biscuits from his dad. When the family camped, Ron hauled along his old iron wood-fired cook stove because it made the best biscuits for breakfasts on a big family camp-out. Always going the extra mile, Ron and John were two of a kind. We love them deeply and will miss them forever and always.