I met Marilyn in the summer of 1968, between my junior and senior year at the University of Tulsa. I turned 21 on June 28, and decided to run for the Oklahoma House of Representatives in a primary scheduled for August of 1968. My good friend and fellow political science student, Katie, suggested I meet her friend, Marilyn, whom she had known since the first grade in Enid, Oklahoma. She thought I would really like her. Katie invited Marilyn to come and visit her in Tulsa and she came. I have to confess it was love at first sight. She was so beautiful, so intelligent and, so amazingly warm. Marilyn was there for a couple of days and then went back home. Katie said I should invite her to come back and to work on my campaign. I said I would love that, but I thought Katie would have a better chance of persuading her to come. Sure enough, she came and spent virtually every day of July and August working with me on the campaign. On the fourth Tuesday of August, I lost the election. I saw her on the following Saturday night, but she was scheduled to go back home and back to Oklahoma State University the next day. I just could not stand the thought of losing her and so I asked her to marry me. She said yes. She then moved to Tulsa, transferred to Tulsa University to complete her degree, and we got married on Feb 1, 1969. We celebrated our 54th anniversary on Feb 1st of this year, as she was lying in bed at the hospice. It was the last day she was alert and she passed away at 3:30 a.m., February 3rd , with me at her side.
I know it is common to refer one’s “better half”; in our case, she was far more than that. I have had the great fortune of knowing some incredible people over my life; people with talent, ability, intelligence, courage – all great qualities. Marilyn though was the single most incredible and magnificent person I have ever known. In a time when women dealt with lots of constraints – only a few decades ago – Marilyn was an experienced horsewoman, a visual artist, a lawyer, a mom of two sons, and a social services professional. Her exceptional work as a delinquent case worker – difficult and very hard then and now – is not well known. When she suffered from a vicious assault, at our home, she faced it with unbelievable courage and grace, and continued to work compassionately with her criminal delinquent clients. She helped change many of their lives as a counsellor and therapist.
I learned so much from Marilyn. She taught me how to ride horses, but she also taught me how to drive a standard transmission car. She had driven and raced competitively in college. That was nothing compared to what she taught me with her life and example. She consistently faced the worst pains with a quiet courage. She even drove herself to the hospital when she had a ruptured appendix.
I remember one time when I returned home after a Democratic convention in which each of the legislators there, including myself, were given “certificates of courage” for our support for a new education tax. Marilyn just laughed when she saw it. She knew it did not take courage for a Democrat to support an education tax bill. In that case it was Republican Governor Henry Bellmon and the few Republicans who supported the tax who deserved recognition for their courage. There were times when I was “courageous” but this was not one of them and she knew it.
Marilyn stood with me through many losses. I lost three races for the legislature before I was elected the fourth time. She backed me every time without question. During my first term I led an effort to dramatically reform nursing homes, a pitched battle we won when everyone thought we would lose. At the time, Marilyn was an employee of the Oklahoma Department of Human Services headed by Lloyd Rader, then reputedly, the most powerful man in Oklahoma and a close ally of the nursing home industry. Marilyn was eight months pregnant and we were facing our re-election when Rader abruptly transferred her to a job 250 miles away, effectively firing her. This cut our income in half and for several years we paid the consequences of having to live in virtual poverty, driving a Volkswagen with a hole in the floor, having to deal with one home robbery after another. We had to cook Christmas dinner on our outside barbecue only to see the barbecue and the turkey stolen from our porch. Eventually Rader left the department and Marilyn was able to go back to work with older delinquents. We worked hard to recover financially but even when I retired from the House in 1996, I left with zero net worth and no real income, but Marilyn and I decided that I should devote all of my energy to trying to build a successful business. In the meantime, Marilyn tried to keep the creditors at bay. Somehow, she did that until we were able to succeed with our power plant development business. For the first time in our lives we had real income and real net worth. We celebrated by traveling, visiting our son, Matt in Japan and China, and traveling to Europe, Africa, and even Papua New Guinea. Those were special, really precious times that did not last long enough. I was able to buy Marilyn some horses to give her the chance to once again feel the closeness she had with them. During her adolescence, her relationship with her beloved horse and the hundreds of hours she spent with him helped her surmount years of abuse by her family. She revived her stout interests and real talent in art. She had always been a talented artist and once again displayed this wonderful touch.
We have two sons, Matthew and Joseph. She was totally devoted to both and to each of our five grandchildren: Isamu, Aiyumi, Ewan, Caitlin, and Liam and our daughters in law, Ai and Lisa. The whole family has been very close and share our love for her. Somehow, we have collectively carried this terrible sadness – a sadness that has blanketed every inch of our lives. Just now, wonderful, rekindled memories of her love, her kindness, her courage and her grace are radiant reminders of how warmly and deeply she touched each of our lives.
A memorial event will be held in Marilyn’s memory on March 11, in Santa Barbara California. Friends and family will share special memories. In lieu of flowers, we suggest contributions to the Nature Conservancy, one of Marilyn’s favorite charities or some other environmental advocacy group of your choice.
