A Remembrance of Jonah
Today is the one-year anniversary of Jonah’s death at the hands of a teenage drunk driver. Her death was tragic, but quick, and she died while doing something she loved. Based on my own experience of the crash, which nearly claimed my life too, I believe that Jonah’s demise was quick, and that she was not aware of what was happening to her.
She was gone in a flash of light.
Many people assume that Jonah and I were close friends, maybe because they prefer to imagine her passing next to a dear friend. But the truth is less romantic, in fact the morning of our crash was our first ride together.
I met Jonah sometime in 2013 at Project Yoga Richmond. We shared space and conversation in the studio and attended many of the same classes. We both loved taking class with J Miles. She often brought her family to the studio to practice with her, which set her apart from the typical yogi. I always found her to be an interesting person to talk to. Jonah was committed to uplifting the community, and she loved Project Yoga’s mission to increase access to mindfulness for all people. She was kind, but quiet, often smirking, sometimes moody, sometimes reserved, but she was well-loved by the people around her. When I met Jonah, she was 40 and raising children. I was 21, navigating grief and trying to find myself. We were kindred spirits, but alas more acquaintances than friends. In 2017 I stepped into the role of Studio and Volunteer Manager at Project Yoga Richmond, and was spending a lot of time at the studio. By that point Jonah had become a fixture in the space too. Many, many times we unrolled our mats next to each other in the studio over the next two years.
While we were not close personal friends, I got to know Jonah on cellular level. Practicing next to her for many hours, I grew to know the sounds of her breathing, the way she smelled, the postures she disliked, the sound of her voice while chanting “OM”.
At Project Yoga Richmond in 2018. Jonah is on the far right of the picture.
When I changed jobs in 2019 and began running aquatic programming for underserved youth in the East End of Richmond, Jonah was thrilled. An avid swimmer herself, she donated bathing suits for our program participants to wear during swim lessons. She followed the details of my work, she always asked great questions. When I started racing triathlon, Jonah was happy to share her own learnings of the sport with me.
But we always remained just acquaintances. Maybe there was some subliminal message I could not know at the time - but we both always seemed to avoid diving any deeper into friendship. Maybe we could both sense a darkness that loomed over us.
During the pandemic Jonah organized groups of friends to visit her beloved Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens for fresh air socializing. She always invited me, but I never attended, and to this day I’m not sure why.
In the spring of 2022 Jonah invited me to ride bikes, but our schedules didn’t line up well. It seemed like we would never find the time.
On June 18, 2022 I celebrated my 30th birthday. Jonah brought me a vase of gardenias that she clipped from her own garden. She stayed late and we talked for a long time about love and life and adventure, just the two of us. It was the most intimate moment I ever shared with her.
I told Jonah that night that I believed that my life was about to change. That I could feel something coming that would shift everything, like a rising tide, with the imminence of a crashing wave.
June 2022, at my 30th Birthday Party
Over the next few weeks, I trained for a mountain bike race at very technical trail system. I just couldn’t shake a bad feeling about the race, and ultimately came to the conclusion that the bad vibes were so strong, I could not go through with the race.
A couple of days before the race, I messaged Jonah and invited her to ride with me in Richmond instead. Our favorite yoga teacher was hosting a class in an orchard, and we planned to ride to the class after riding a scenic route in Eastern Henrico. The next time I saw her was the morning of the crash.
Jonah was running a few minutes late to meet me at the VMFA. It was a beautiful morning. We were both excited for the yoga adventure we had planned. I followed Jonah east on Grove Avenue towards downtown. That’s the last memory I have of her: bright colors, riding through our beautiful city, on a perfect summer morning.
How could I have imagined that in just a few minutes everything would change?
Living for Jonah
When I learned of her fate, my breathing tube in the ICU had just been removed. I was already in shock, but Jonah’s death was a gut punch.
I promised her then that I would live the rest of my life making her proud. I promised that I would “Live for Jonah.”
To me living for Jonah involves embodying the characteristics that she would want to see in a person. It involves treating other people in uplifting ways and working every day to make a positive impact in the community.
Jonah continues to inspire me. She was brave, social, active, creative, and so kind.
She inspires me to get out there and compete in sporting events that give me butterflies in my stomach.
She inspires me to be more giving with my time.
She inspires me to be a better person, and to make more compassionate decisions.
Jonah’s death is unfair. It’s impossible to accept that someone so compassionate could be taken from us in such a selfish way. There is nothing that can lessen the pain of losing her. For so many of us it’s a wound that will have to slowly heal with time.
We can heal by honoring Jonah’s memory. We can go out into the world and shine the light of kindness. We can care for our neighbors, as she did for so many people. We can work to make our community a better and safer place for all people to live, in Jonah’s memory.
