Lynn Beedle, Founder of Tall Buildings Council, Has Died at 85

(enr.construction.com - 10/31/03)                            

              Letters of Remembrance  From Family Members:

From David Healy on November 4th, 2003:

After my proclamation about taking a hike up Mt. Tam to see the sun
rise in Uncle Lynn’s honor the day after finding out about his passing,
I actually did it on Sunday. The day that I had assigned to take the
hike was Halloween and to make a long story short  among other tasks, I
had to move six cubic yards of wood chips in two hours, in pouring rain
before about 50 people arrived for a pre-trick-or-treating party.

Sunday morning I drove up to Mt. Home and then hiked up the Hogback
trail to the top. I started up at 5:30 am with Poochini (our dog). It
was rather dark and I didn’t see the sign that said, “DANGER - KEEP
OUT” for the portion of the Hogback trail above the old rail road
grade. I was surprised how overgrown the Hogback had become as I pushed
through the chaparral in my shorts.

As I thrashed through the growth I must admit I did question what the
heck I was doing. I also started to wonder if we really had done this
before. It had been such a long time ago. Maybe I was getting a tad
delusional by the early hour, the altitude, or maybe my skewed grasp of
reality. But I knew that Uncle Lynn was finding humor in my escapade so
I forged ahead. I made it to the top with about 20 minutes to spare
before the sun appeared.

It was cloudy south of San Francisco and there were some low clouds to
the east, but it was mostly clear. A warm glow emanated from behind the
East Bay hills with Mount Diablo a crisp silhouette against the new
light.

I imagined the light of dawn shining off Uncle Lynn’s face somehow
brightened by his own iridescence. I felt lucky to have seen this again
when we were all back at Nags Head, and we all took that walk on the
beach to watch the sunrise.

A light undiminished with his passing.

David
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From Lynn Jr., via Kirk Beedle on November 3rd, 2003:

3 nov '03
kirkb@sonic.net
Submit

Hi Kirk... Well.... we had representation from the west in Rick Beedle who just happened to be in AC and came up for the internment....and Dan Hildebrand who was there for the Memorial service...We made David Healy's redwood fronds, bay leaves and ferns that he picked from the area around the "cottage" in Mill Valley...and sent to us overnight....part of the service.   Having Dan and Rick there made all the difference in the world...They represented everyone from the west...and it honestly felt as if you all....every one of you ....were there in spirit..... As late Friday a week ago..Oct 24th...dad was up and talking.  Holly had come over, being recently engaged she was showing off her ring. Dad loved the whole scene, he got out a magnifying glass to admire her diamond.....Lindy and Torie had been looking at houses...they sat with him describing where the newest prospective home was and what it looked like. He was tracing the path from his house to theirs on paper...All my brothers , their wives and grandchildren were there. We used to get together and eat pizza and cheese steaks in the living room. Many of you have experienced this "ritual' and we did it again that night. while he sat up with us. That night he carefully put his signature on a recommendation for Fred Krietzburg (S.F. builder and architect) to nominate him for the Academy of Civil Engineers...and explained to us "that a nominee doesn't always get chosen on their first nomination"....my mother interrupted and said loudly " But YOU did in 1972!" and we all started clapping...it brought out such a smile. It was the last thing I saw him write. When he got fatigued we got him set up in the makeshift bedroom we put together in the dining room the Monday before. Over and over...he kept saying: "what a wonderful evening...what a wonderful night" We put him to bed and he was smiling.. we sat up a lot with him the last 2 weeks, holding his hand and just being nearby so he could hear us talking...we reminisced a lot about everything and anything and did a lot of laughing and crying. he was never alone... One of us had been sleeping nearby in the living room for a week before that to help out...and he was no trouble at all. He would apologize for being 'such a pain' and we would tell him that we wouldn't have it any other way. The last week Me , David, Jonathan and Edward camped out with him sleeping in chairs , on the floor...wherever there was room. Lindy came down from Norwich in Vermont to be there.. The last time Dad and I spoke was that Monday when I was sitting next to his bed... he looked at me and said " Hi, Lynn". I had been taking my hand and stroking his head: something he used to do to put me to sleep when I was a kid. I said to him, dad remember when I was a little boy and you used to come in and rub my head till I fell asleep? I kept doing it and after a pause he remembered and said " Oh, yeah"... We have all lost someone we never thought we would. Some of the letters you all have written are filled with priceless, touching and irreplaceable memories of my father..... We have saved each and every one and read them often.....memories of your brother...brother-in-law, your uncle...your friend. A man with boundless energy and enthusiasm...a man whose sense of family was so strong that he would travel the country just to be with us each in turn ...energizing us all so that even across these miles of separation today....somehow we are bound together like steel: a family in the truest meaning of the word. We are all so much better for having had him in our lives...if we could somehow have it: another 200 years wouldn't be enough more time. The words that were said at his memorial were heartfelt and revealing and gave us all a sense of the man who was. In attendance were giants from industry and academia, colleagues with tears in their eyes... There were just regular folks there...people who said "one time your father did (or said) this...and I never forgot it." ...old and young...some people I had never met before...others as familiar as family. There's not one of us who haven't gotten up before the dawn and trekked to some overlook or beach and watched the sun rise with my father. The first day he wasn't here any longer ...my brother Jon got Sandy and I out for the sunrise ...and...three thousand miles away...Don and company up north for the sunrise.......and David Healy said he would be on Mt Tam doing the same thing.

Kirk...I'm asking you to copy this short letter to everyone on the family list. You, like my Dad and my brother David ...keep up the correspondence when others like myself let it slide. 

Thanks, Lynn Jr.

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From Don Healy on November 2nd, 2003:

To honor the memory of Lynn Beedle, and to reflect upon the very important influence that he had upon the lives of each of us, Carol Healy, Don and Liz Healy, Marilyn and Monique Ramirez, Alissa Healy, and Teresa, Jessica and Lauren Haldorson all met at Green Lake in Seattle, early this morning, to walk around the lake and have breakfast together afterwards.  As Lynn would have done, a sign-up sheet was provided, with a copy included below.  Just a few years ago, Carol Healy, Jane Hildebrand, Lynn and myself made this same walk.  

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The Family of Lynn Beedle
10-30-03
dbeedle@acerragroup.com
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To our wonderful family,

My father’s incredible and wonderful journey through life came to an end this morning. Dad passed away peacefully in his sleep at 12:30 AM. He was surrounded by his family -- in his own home -- free of pain and fear. Dad died just like he lived: with grace, honor and dignity.

Now he has undertaken a new journey to what lies ahead. And we smile to think of the zeal, gusto, and enthusiasm he will surely bring to his next great endeavor.

Your thoughts and prayers have been a constant source of strength to Dad, and to our family. We thank you so much for the incredible outpouring of love and affection that he was able to receive over these past months. Dad was truly blessed through all of you. And we will never forget what it meant to him… and to us.

Our family feels that a fitting tribute or obituary by respected national and international news organizations is appropriate and deserving. I am currently doing my best to be sure that the news of my father’s passing will be made known to the right people in the appropriate organizations so that he can be properly recognized.

My concern is that when this news comes from an immediate family member, it may not carry the same weight or importance as it would coming from the true leaders of the field on which he had such an impact: You -- his family, friends, and colleagues.

Our family’s simple request is that if any of you are contacted by – or have the means to communicate with – people or organizations that might write a fitting obituary for my father, that you would be able to assist them in some small way to help make it come about. Also, if you have any advice that might assist me in this matter it would be greatly appreciated.

Dad never asked for recognition, wished for honors, or campaigned for awards. Throughout his career, it was always about the work. It was about contributing to the greater good, and about advancing important knowledge. On his constant quest toward reaching this goal, he had a tremendous impact. We are so proud of him in so many ways. Proud of him as a father, a friend, an engineer, an inspiration, and as a man.

I am sending a letter to whatever contacts I have that might print his obituary. I am also in the process of writing the notice that will appear in our local newspaper here in Bethlehem. I wanted to include it with this message in the hopes of receiving any of your comments, but unfortunately I am finding that writing it has become be a very difficult thing to do. I hope you won’t mind if I send it to you later in the day.

Thanks to all of you for any help you can give to us. But most of all, thank you for your thoughts and prayers during these final days. You’ll never know the importance you held in his life; the energy you gave him with your brilliance; and the satisfaction he gained from a job well done.

Love, David

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From:  Marilyn Knight
10/27/2003
mknight@uci.net
Submit
Uncle Lynn, I will never forget the week that my children and I spent in
North Carolina. It was everything that I hoped for and more. Being with you,
Aunt Ella and all of my cousins was wonderful. A memory that I will always
cherish. I have the best childhood memories of your slides - I always found
it so amazing that you went to all those countries that I could only dream
of and brought back pictures to share with all of us. I always looked
forward to seeing them! As I said to you in my response when you sent your
email and told all of us about your cancer and called it your "free ball", I
will look forward to seeing you again ~ in our other life when we pass from
this one. I love you Marilyn

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From David Healy to Lynn Beedle on October 27th, 2003:

From: David Healy <dh@first-image.com>
Date: Mon Oct 27, 2003 11:38:19 AM US/Pacific
To: Uncle Lynn <lsb0@lehigh.edu>
Subject: A Certain Determination

Dearest Uncle Lynn,

One of the many things I will always remember about you is your certain determination and the penetration of your vision.

The earliest example of this that I know about was when as a child, you thought that it was essential that you and your brothers and sisters experience total darkness. So you led the crowd into a closet and closed the door so you all could experience this total darkness. The only problem with this particular experiment was that the door knob fell off and couldn’t be reattached. All of you were unable to terminate the experiment until someone finally came looking for you.

Then there were the hikes starting before dawn to see the sun rise. I remember as a child getting up with everybody else well before the dawn to climb Mount Tam to see the sun rise. Needless to say, sometimes there were some grumbling about why we were doing this at this hour. But we all proceeded to share in this experience and enjoy it.

We did this again this past June at Nags Head which was particularly poignant.

Something so simple and yet so absolutely essential.

The morning after I learn that you have left us I will climb Mount Tam to watch the sun rise.
In so doing I hope to catch another glimpse of your vision and bid you a safe journey.

Love, David

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Here's a copy of a wonderful letter from Sherry Healy to Uncle Lynn on October 27th, 2003:

Dearest Uncle Lynn,

We've been reluctant to write you, because words seem so inadequate to
express our LOVE and to explain what an inspirational force you've been
in our lives.

We've had so much FUN and always laugh when we recall the many
adventures with Uncle Lynn.

I, Sherry, will never forget the first time I met you at a holiday at
Uncle Page & Aunt Gin's--way back when they lived in El Cerrito--around
1980, I think.  There was to be a group family photo, and I was merely
one of David's girlfriends.  You absolutely insisted that I be in the
picture, and this gesture of generosity and inclusion meant the world
to me for some reason, and seems a good example what kind of person I
came to learn that you are.

On one of my first meetings with David (Healy), he told me about his
family and his fun Uncle Lynn.  For example, David loved to tell that
when Uncle Lynn came to town he was determined to take another peek at
Yosemite--even when there was only one meager day to do so.  So, the
whole family packs into the station wagon drives 4 hours to Yosemite.
Whereupon David blows up his air mattress to play in the river--just in
time for the the rude reality that the whole family must immediately
load back into into the car and take off back home.  The impracticality
of taking such a long drive with for such a quick visit could not
compete with the LEGENDARY boundless energy and infectious enthusiasm
of Uncle Lynn!  Uncle Lynn knows that a single triumphant glimpse of
inexplicable beauty is well worth the toil of getting there.

There are INNUMERABLE examples of Uncle Lynn's power of persuasion. 
I'll never forget when I heard about a bridge walk across the San
Francisco Golden Gate Bridge.  I thought, Eee Gaads!  Who on earth
would want to do that?  Next thing I learn Uncle Lynn is flying in from
Pennsylvania to do just that.  That's who!  Still I was determined not
to go, but slowly my resolve started to crumble as Uncle Lynn carried
on about The Bridge, The Bridge, The Bridge. . .  I knew he was a
fabulous engineer, and so I kept wondering what is it about The
Bridge's construction that captivated him so.  When I finally asked, I
recall Uncle Lynn's puzzled expression reply, "Oh, I love it for it's
beauty!"

As the visit went on, it became more than a bit humiliating that this
senior citizen was willing to fly across the country, get up at some
ungodly hour like 4 a.m., and walk several miles just for the
opportunity to walk on the bridge while this lazy twenty-something
would prefer to, well. . . sleep!  As everyone who knows you knows,
Yes, of course, I ended up getting up at some ungodly hour, walking
17,000 miled--all to just walk on The Bridge.  When we got there, the
lack of planning failed to foresee what would happen when all the
people from the north met all those who came in from the south. Once
arrived at the center of The Bridge, we were packed in like
sardines--we could feel our neighbors' chests expanding into bodies.
That's close!  Then, the flop sweat from the panic starts dissolving my
mascara and blurs my vision.  I look over to see if Uncle Lynn is okay.
  There you are, in my mind plain as day, providing an interview to some
broadcaster while calmly smiling with your jaunty beret placed just so
on your majestically poised head.  Huh?

It took hours and hours for our chain-ganged mass of humanity to slowly
work our way back to safety off the bridge.  I now know first-hand how
those crushing calamities occur when people to stampede in a panic.  I
would have been one of those crazed people that try to bolt had it not
been for your example of complete and thorough calm. As we were in the
excruciating process of inching our way forward, I asked you, Uncle
Lynn, what the thunderous BOI-NG sounds might mean as the suspension
cables kept twitching in what appeared to be a very an unstable manner.
  Calmly, I recall you looking around as if you were doing some
calculations and stated flatly, "You know, I don't believe this bridge
was ever carried a load like this before."  Incredulous and freaked out
I recall looking at you to see if AT LEAST  this would get you ruffled.
  Everyone who knows him knows the answer.  Uh----NO!

Nothing slows down Uncle Lynn's exuberance, dedication and sense of
fun--we call it Beedle Juice.

You have taught us well and we'll never forget your lessons!

Love Forever,

Sherry Healy

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From Lynn Beedle on May 1st, 2003 (as usual, setting a fantastic example):

Family and Friends....

Here is No. 125

You folks are the closest to me. So I want you to have this

Lynn

PS: You'll see that it has nothing to do with the Trade Center.


== == == == == == ==


  -125-
01May03
  A Free Ball


We think we're going to be here forever. Then suddenly we realize, first
hand, that there are limits. This week the doctor told me that I had
pancreatic cancer and that the tumor is inoperable (from both 2nd and
3rd opinions).

The good news is that I don't have to take the chemo/radiation
treatments that can be so debilitating. The doctor says, "They don't
prolong life expectancy enough to compensate for loss in quality of
life." In my case, the time perspective is six months, or year, or two
years. As every doctor has said, "Attitude means so much."  We saw that
dramatically our grandson Lynn waged war against testicular cancer - and
was soon back playing championship hockey at Norwich University.

I've been fortunate. During the several life-threatening situations I've
experienced, I never had a fear of not coming through. And I felt ready
if I didn't. It's at times like this that I'm thankful my parents
started me on the path to a personal belief in a Higher Power.

And let me tell you a story:  When my oldest son Lynn saw me for the
first time after my 1989 heart attack (which I survived only due to
Ella's speed in contacting the Dewey Fire Company ambulance) here's what
he said: "Dad, do you remember those old pin ball machines? . and if you
were lucky you got a free ball?" Well, you got one."

I've played that free ball for 14 years. And what wonderful things have
happened during that time: the annual family vacations, watching the
children and grandchildren grow, mature, and succeed . Enjoying their
accomplishments and those occasional awards. . The amazing recognition I
received from professional societies. .

I'm going to keep on playing that free ball.

I feel great!

Lynn

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