Newb
10-19-2006, 11:46
Y'all remember John Donovan who died hiking in California last year?
http://www.wvec.com/sharedcontent/APStories/stories/D8KRMC1O2.html
10/19/2006
By BILL McKELWAY / Associated Press
John Donovan, an inveterate hiker, died in the California wilderness doing what he loved.
Wednesday, his memory and passion helped create a trail that will serve the people he loved, the mentally ill.
The nearly milelong walking trail was dedicated at Central State Hospital under clearing skies, laughter and a few tears as co-workers recalled the occasionally eccentric, sometimes lost, always faithful Donovan, a longtime social worker.
"There was a time or two he was picked up by police, who thought he was an escapee," said Jean Sharp, who knew Donovan as a brilliant fellow who shunned computers, loved his clients and had a raucous, ear-splitting laugh.
He rarely showered; hiked to work 8 miles from his sparsely furnished Petersburg apartment; arrived at the office frozen in winter and sweating in summer; never married and had no immediate family.
"He was an orphan, but I never heard him express the slightest regret about anything in his past; to him the outdoors was a release and place to contemplate our Creator," said co-worker and hiking companion Sharon Loving.
She, members of the Old Dominion Appalachian Trail Club, mental health Commissioner James Reinhard and dozens of others made the inaugural walk past a granite, inscribed monument to Donovan and through stands of elm, cedar, poplars and a freshly planted magnolia.
Central State officials said the trail will be used by staff and consumers, all of whom were targets of Donovan's sermons about the wonders of the outdoors, fresh air and a free spirit.
"He was a magical person that we all loved," said Renay Durham, a department head at Central State who came up with the trail idea before Donovan's remains were found.
The stocky figure whose plodding gait resembled a slow-moving bulldozer was known as El Burro by his friends.
He left for the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail within hours of his last day at work in the spring of 2005.
He disappeared May 2 along the trail a few miles from Palm Springs, Calif. A year later, in June, his remains turned up in Tahquitz Canyon.
Provisions found in his backpack helped sustain two stranded campers who didn't realize Donovan had been in the area a year earlier and was missing. A goodbye note wished all his friends well. He apparently knew his end was near, celebrated his 60th birthday eating an extra cracker and walked away to his death.
What actually ended his life remains unclear, according to a long profile of Donovan in this month's Backpacker magazine.
But Wednesday, a knot of admirers at Central State clearly felt his presence.
He was a notorious penny-pincher, going without a telephone at home, new shoes on his feet or a car that could ever be described as new. He stitched homemade backpacks with dental floss and a farewell gift card from co-workers was for the Goodwill Store.
But the odd thing was that when it came to the mentally ill people in his care, Donovan was extravagant in his pursuit of funds.
"He was absolutely determined to find every penny that they had coming to them," said Donovan's boss, Dr. Greg Wolber. "He cared deeply about every one of them."
___ Information from: Richmond Times-Dispatch, http://www.timesdispatch.com
http://www.wvec.com/sharedcontent/APStories/stories/D8KRMC1O2.html
10/19/2006
By BILL McKELWAY / Associated Press
John Donovan, an inveterate hiker, died in the California wilderness doing what he loved.
Wednesday, his memory and passion helped create a trail that will serve the people he loved, the mentally ill.
The nearly milelong walking trail was dedicated at Central State Hospital under clearing skies, laughter and a few tears as co-workers recalled the occasionally eccentric, sometimes lost, always faithful Donovan, a longtime social worker.
"There was a time or two he was picked up by police, who thought he was an escapee," said Jean Sharp, who knew Donovan as a brilliant fellow who shunned computers, loved his clients and had a raucous, ear-splitting laugh.
He rarely showered; hiked to work 8 miles from his sparsely furnished Petersburg apartment; arrived at the office frozen in winter and sweating in summer; never married and had no immediate family.
"He was an orphan, but I never heard him express the slightest regret about anything in his past; to him the outdoors was a release and place to contemplate our Creator," said co-worker and hiking companion Sharon Loving.
She, members of the Old Dominion Appalachian Trail Club, mental health Commissioner James Reinhard and dozens of others made the inaugural walk past a granite, inscribed monument to Donovan and through stands of elm, cedar, poplars and a freshly planted magnolia.
Central State officials said the trail will be used by staff and consumers, all of whom were targets of Donovan's sermons about the wonders of the outdoors, fresh air and a free spirit.
"He was a magical person that we all loved," said Renay Durham, a department head at Central State who came up with the trail idea before Donovan's remains were found.
The stocky figure whose plodding gait resembled a slow-moving bulldozer was known as El Burro by his friends.
He left for the 2,650-mile Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail within hours of his last day at work in the spring of 2005.
He disappeared May 2 along the trail a few miles from Palm Springs, Calif. A year later, in June, his remains turned up in Tahquitz Canyon.
Provisions found in his backpack helped sustain two stranded campers who didn't realize Donovan had been in the area a year earlier and was missing. A goodbye note wished all his friends well. He apparently knew his end was near, celebrated his 60th birthday eating an extra cracker and walked away to his death.
What actually ended his life remains unclear, according to a long profile of Donovan in this month's Backpacker magazine.
But Wednesday, a knot of admirers at Central State clearly felt his presence.
He was a notorious penny-pincher, going without a telephone at home, new shoes on his feet or a car that could ever be described as new. He stitched homemade backpacks with dental floss and a farewell gift card from co-workers was for the Goodwill Store.
But the odd thing was that when it came to the mentally ill people in his care, Donovan was extravagant in his pursuit of funds.
"He was absolutely determined to find every penny that they had coming to them," said Donovan's boss, Dr. Greg Wolber. "He cared deeply about every one of them."
___ Information from: Richmond Times-Dispatch, http://www.timesdispatch.com