Recently a very good friend of mine left the employ of Plimoth Plantation. I suppose it is in the growing and shrinking pains of any organic thing that some pains hurt more than others. As this is my fourth time at this institution I am certainly no stranger to its occasional difficulties.
I won’t make this a eulogy for her leaving but rather a celebration of her time with us. Lisa was tireless. It was obvious at times that the amount of work she took on would sometimes take its toll on her health. And still she would, to quote Col. Slade in “Scent of a Woman”, tango on. At a recent annual fete (The Crappies Awards, where front line staff lampoon everyone who isn’t us), many people from our near and distant past came to honor Lisa. Many who could not attend sent letters outlining how Lisa had touched their lives. There were, of course, tears and cheers (and beers).
Most of you will never know how much we lost with her leaving and I hope it is our intention to make sure you never do. We who remain still have a job to do. As difficult as it will be, our mission is to cull from each other as much of her vast intellectual capitol as we are able and give it all to you.
I’m sorry, I am seldom without words. So let me close this brief post, one far too short to work as tribute, but I admit as I write this the words grow blurry. I will end by simply saying:
Thank you, Lisa.