By Linda Harrar

~Independent Film Producer~

Dana’s death has affected me like no other I have ever experienced. I am usually quite a good sleeper, but I keep waking up in the middle of the night trying to come to terms with her loss–both what it means to me, but also to the world to lose her at this particular political moment when we are so in need of her vision.

I am a documentary filmmaker, mostly for PBS. I first met Dana 14 years ago when she served as an academic adviser to Race to Save the Planet, a ten-part PBS series produced by WGBH’s NOVA Series and the Chedd-Angier Production Company. That series became the basis of a telecourse in environmental studies, and Dana was writing the text to accompany the series. She came to Boston and talked with our production team for the series, helping us to understand the issues of population and the environment. She reviewed our film treatments, scripts and rough cuts, and gave us a lot of tough but constructive criticism.

I remember she hated the title: “It’s not a race,” she said. “If anything, we should be slowing down! And we’re not saving the planet. The planet will get along just fine without us–it’s we who need to save ourselves!”

Since that time, we remained friends, and I’ve had a chance to experience her in action in the many concentric arenas of her life–teaching at Dartmouth, living on a cooperative farm, the Balaton group, but above all, through her writing. Her “Global Citizen” columns were about a wide range of political, environmental and social issues. She had the courage to write about difficult and unpopular subjects, and as one colleague said, “She showed us the outrageous joy that comes with speaking truth to power.”

But what I shall miss the most are the letters from Dana. Those people who lived in regions where her column wasn’t carried, like me, could subscribe to the columns and also receive a monthly newsletter about her very active life–her teaching, her farm, her books. There were stories of lambs being born, sheep escapes to neighbors’ pastures, bread being baked, seeds being ordered, arrangements for the new Cobb Hill co-housing project, discussions with Monsanto executives, trips to Balaton…. She also shared her hopes and frustrations and above all, her enthusiasms. So I came to know her well through her fine art of friendship through letter writing.

I still can’t quite believe I’m not going to get a letter saying, “Dear Folks, Sorry I’ve been out of touch. You won’t believe what I’ve just been through. And just wait until I tell you what life is like here on the other side….!”

Since her death, messages and tributes from all around the world have been coursing through the Internet–such a flow of love and grief that has been truly amazing to behold, from Wangari Maathai in Kenya, Dmitri Kavtaradze in Moscow, on and on….

I shall always remember her generosity of spirit–how she would stop what she was doing to help me think about a documentary I was working on, or write grant proposals so that people from Tanzania and Thailand could get support for their work on sustainability. But at the same time, she was extremely personally productive in her writing, teaching and leading of various communities.

Her head of department at Dartmouth Jim Hornig wrote: “She was an important person in my life. There was part of me that would have liked to be like Dana–publicly outspoken and unabashedly idealistic, even though most of me was, well–like I am. So I supposed that by being associated with Dana and supporting her activities was a way I found to partially live that other life. Maybe part of her popularity came from the fact that she served that same function for lots of people.”

Alan AtKisson, a fellow author, musician and Balaton Group member wrote: “Dana and I had a special relationship. She was at times my teacher, mentor, colleague, debate partner and cheerleader. She was a beacon to me, a guiding star. But I hasten to add I am by no means unique in this. There are literally hundreds of people who would describe their relationship with Dana in a special way. She leaves behind an enormous network of friends, from college students to scientists and decisionmakers. This web of human relationships will prove to be her most powerful legacy. “

This weekend there are gatherings to honor Dana in San Francisco, Seattle, Washington DC, Boston, and Hanover, New Hampshire. We don’t often get to see ourselves at a distance, but isn’t just this what Dana might have wished for–to realize that one life of such beauty and dedication could mean so much to so many people? She shows us how a single person can indeed change the world.

Above Dana’s desk was a handwritten note the said “My writing is a search for truth. Every one of my readers is the key to the workability of the planet.” So for those of you who haven’t read her columns, they’re still around–go to tidepool.org or sustainer.org. The power of her ideas is still all around us.

While Dana was deeply worried about the future of human civilization and the current environmental crisis, she was inherently an optimist. She believed in our ability to rise up together, to care for one another, to reinvent the world. Here’s an excerpt from her last column, on the latest scientific reports on global warming:

“Can I give you any hope our world will not fall apart? Heck, I don’t know. There’s only one thing I do know. If we believe that it’s effectively over, that we are fatally flawed and the most greedy and short-sighted among us will always be permitted to rule, then well yes, it’s over. Personally I don’t believe that stuff at all. Everyone I know wants polar bears and healthy three-year-olds. We are not helpless and there is nothing wrong with us except the strange belief that we are helpless. All we need to do is to stop letting that belief paralyze our minds, hearts and souls.”

Last fall we lost David Brower, and Dana, writing about him, said, “Let us hope that his mighty soul will keep recycling back to us, thundering on, until we can absorb his wisdom.” And now we must say the same for Dana.

I was speaking the other night with Pat Waak of Audubon. She said, “We’re losing some of our best and brightest–David Brower last fall, now Dana–just when some of the most mediocre are assuming power. The saints are being called home. If this is not an apocalyptic moment, I’m not sure what is. It calls on all the rest of us to be more than what we have been–to step up to do what we can to extend their vision.”

I don’t know about you, but I’m going to be searching very hard to find the Dana in me, to keep her ideas and energetic spirit alive.