<html><head><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body style="overflow-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Dear Marilyn, Jon, Ben, families,<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> and Colleagues in the Long March of Love,<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Marilyn, thank you for your note regarding Joe’s death. Your brief details helped us all participate in his transition event. Many of us understand we too are candidates for up-and-coming final moments. And yet, death seems to always come as unique and stunning, much like Joe’s death.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">To colleagues witnessing to Joe Crocker’s significance in your lives, thank you also. Your responses fill me again with gratitude for life with a host of gifted characters in service. We honor this life fully given and the mysterious way life is and is not. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">The man Joe Crocker was indeed a gift! He managed to be at home and of service anywhere on the planet. I was most struck by his presence. It included quiet self-assurance, as well as affirming encouragement to others. Joe was kind. I loved Joe’s warm smile and those playful twinkles in his eyes. And boy, did he ever have a fine voice. The deep tones projected well in large groups and turned to honey as he sang. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">The Early family showed up in several assignment postings with hard-working folk who couldn’t sing--nary a one of us could carry a tune if it came in a sack. On my way to breakfast and the first singing of the day, dread paralyzed me and my stomach flip-flopped until I developed a helpful mantra: “Imagine Joe and Marilyn Crocker </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">singing.“<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Marilyn and family, please express this community’s gratitude to those at Watson Fields who cared for Joe lovingly and to those who were present at his rolling on via a stately hearse to the singing of “Amazing Grace”. What a way to go for anyone, especially for an Ambassador in the Long March of Love.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Grace and peace,<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Leah Early<font size="3"><o:p></o:p></font></p></body></html>