David William Hettig

I met Dave after my brother in law died suddenly.  Dave held my hand through the terribly painful and complicated process of sorting through the estate.  He had a way of making me feel like I was a friend, not a client.  He clearly cared about me, my family and the situation.  We are devastated and shocked to hear about Dave's sudden death.  My heart goes out to his family.  He was a warm, loving and special person.

I met David Hettig through my mentor and dear friend, the late human rights advocate Ginetta Sagan, more than 20 years ago. In the time that I knew David I witnessed his steadfast commitment to human rights through his work with the Aurora Foundation; he devoted countess pro bono hours to establishing, funding and maintaining the Foundation to increase the observance of human rights all over the globe. All of us involved with Aurora loved David for his thoughtfulness, his compassion, and his brilliant mind. When I gave birth to my first daughter 13 years ago, my husband and I naturally turned to David to be our estate attorney and set up a family trust. Trust is a word with a double meaning here, because there is no one who was more trust-worthy than David. I was privileged to know him, and I wish his family peace and strength as they endure this enormous loss.

It was a delight to meet Dave last year on an 11-day float down the Tatsenshini and Alsek Rivers through British Columbia and Alaska.  For those of you who have never rafted on an extended private overnight raft trip, it is typical to break the group up into teams who will perfrom camp chores throughout the trip.  Dave was on my team, which means that in addition to time ont he river, we spent many hours together cooking, cleaning, and setting up the "groover" in spots with great views of the river and the mountains.  He was always a joy to work with and to talk to. 

One of my strongest memories is the day that we saw the grizzly bear.  The bear was on shore, and we were all rafting by, gawking and pointing and taking photos.  He was in the boat with our fearless trip leader, who didn't notice an easily missed rapid just below.  Their raft headed straight for the hole, and all 3 passengers, including Dave, were tossed out into the nearly fresezing water (all glacier-melt!).  Our raft was about 100 yards behind, and we raced toward the scene to rescue "swimmers" if possible.  There was Dave, swimming to shore. We raced to catch up but were in a current pushing us hard.  As we got close to shore,  I jumped out of the boat near shore and found Dave on shore - he had rescued himself!  He had a big gash near his eyebrow, and was cold, but otherwise fine.  Fortunately, my boatmates were able to grab some bushes and hold the boat while Dave and I clambered over teh underbrush and jumped on board. When we finally caught up with the others, a fire had been started so that Dave and the others could strip off their wet clothes and get warmed up. There's a great picture of Dave with his newly gashed eyebrow dtanding on that shore.  I hope someone will post it!  Just another day, another adventure in Dave's exciting life.

     I took the day to feel normal. I haven't felt that lately. Two things have happened so far this summer. My precious Uncle Dave passed away doing his regular workout at the Page Mill YMCA in Palo Alto, and I've been witnessing the coming to maturity of a young hawk on the elemantary school campus where I teach.
     Life comes to a transformation point. With Dave and with my Mom, it happened suddenly. I think that is good. I teach my third graders in science that energy is not created and ceased, but is best described and thought of as constantly changing. Dave's life was completely connected with a rare focus of considerable energy. In all aspects, his was an energy directed to positive and thoughtful works and pursuits. When you knew it, experienced it, you coveted it. You were protective of its link to yours. To a nephew, he was almost too awesome. We began our connection, in my mind, through the defining tragedy of my Mom's death in 1978. I was the little hawkcrying for his parents who had flown away from the schoolyard. Dave was not the flying away type, however.
     Part of Dave's uniqueness I am just recently discovering. He had many branches of connections and causes and activities which he deftly orchestrated and nurtured and saw grow. That he was unique has been known to me since that November morning in 1978. I, like I'm sure do others who were in his life, felt specially nurtured and supported by him. For me, it could not have been easy to figure out how to do. As I am seeing unfold in the schoolyard, the young hawk has to learn by using his given tools and instincts. He makes mistakes. He is angry at being left lonely.He must make a way in the world without a mother and father. Through my stretch of adolesence Dave waited, watched, and supported. He gave just enough and at the right time to best help me to think, learn and practice being who I could and wanted to be. He was there.
     In the morning, when I hear the calls of that hawk growing up, taking wing, being on his own in the world, I feel blessed. Although I want them to be endless, I see that he is stronger and must soon fly away. No matter how hard you try to sodten the blow, what angle you may take, parting will be bitter first. A cahe of memories can only remain. The energy of a very special life not ceased, but transformed and off to do good somewhere else.
           
                                                                     Love from Jerry, your nephew. 

I know David Hettig only through telephone conversations regarding clients.  Even through I had such a distant connection with him, David impressed me as a very thoughtful and kind man and I know his clients thought the world of him. I pay my respects to him.