I was Jim's roommate at Caltech back in our freshman year, 1964-65. Jim shared Thanksgiving with my family several times since I grew up nearby and it was a long way from Pasadena to Sheridan. I always figured that he'd return to Wyoming. We didn't see a lot of each other for a couple of years then in the summer of 1972 just before I started law school I toured the western states with a buddy for one last long vacation - haven't had one that long since - with our ultimate destination the Tetons with which Jim was, of course, familiar. He climbed back then. Anyway, I still have my black cowboy hat from Bob's Western Wear in Sheridan. I remember the bar in town I visited with a noose in front of the mirror saying support your local hippie - I think they were talking about me. Anyway, we found Jim and his mother DEMANDED that we come over to their place. She prepared a Thanksgiving dinner for us. What a great time. It had to be in August since law school started the next month.

I own an old 1964 Porsche and somebody told me about some guy in Sheridan (John Small???) who has a bunch of slightly newer ones. I figured that "Hey, I know somebody there" thinking that Jim had undoubtedly stayed very close to his roots. For all I knew he could be running the family store - I don't think we'd had any contact since that summer of 1972. Anyway, in a sign of the times, I googled Jim Howell Sheridan Wyoming and was saddened to learn that one of the good guys in my life (wasn't he the student body president in high school?) had passed on, too early.

Back in college he had a car, a VW he drove from Sheridan, and many of us didn't. Jim would ALWAYS let almost anyone borrow it - scary for a bunch of crazy 18 year olds - I was even younger. Sometimes we'd be scraping around in the cushions to find enough nickels so that the two of us could somehow come up with the 35 cents to put in the machine (can you believe they had them in schools then?) for a pack of Pall Malls we could split - the unfiltered ones in the red packs. Camels were for sissies.

So, I didn't find my old friend to ask about Porsches, but am glad I found he remained good in life. Farewell my Techer buddy. Don't worry, we called ourselves that - it's a term of endearment amongst those who attended that institution so long ago.

Bill

Hello,

Well its been two years and I still miss Jim greatly. I have been telling stories about him lately and I always smile when I think of the times we spent together and on the phone. I miss his energy and passion for everything. I hope the whole Howell, Donohoue, Rogers family is doing well and I look forward to our next visit together.

Love you all,

Lucas

A quick hello to all the Howells and Rogers! I was thinking--as I often do when I am about to move somewhere far away--of good old Lander recently. Whenever I return here in thought I cannot possibly avoid considering the impact of all the good times I shared here with Lucas and his family. Jim was such a huge part of that. I watch my own son grow bigger each day, and I see that he misses out on many of the things that place offered us as children. I suppose each life has its own trajectory, and comparisons aren't worth much. Nonetheless, I count myself extremely lucky to have known Jim, and all the rest of you as well. I never stay in touch as I should, and I hope this finds each of you on a good path! I know it will. All the best companeros.

I am Jim and Janet Wilson's youngest. For the past year, I have been visiting this sight off and on reading the notes and watching the videos. I would usually end up crying, but nonthess, still feeling extremely lucky for having the opprotunity with Jimmy and his family. I have just now mustered the courage to post some my thoughts, or lack thereof. Jimmy was my father's best friend and I remember him from my youth and thankfully, for his and Maureen's last few visits to my parent's home. I remember his laugh and his warm eyes, that even when he wasn't laughing, one was felt that he was on the inside. Either that or that he was up to something. :-) To Jimmy and his family I hope the following for you:

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you.
-----A Gaelic rune
Cathy

Jim,

It's been said that you're judged by the company you keep. If that was the only criterion, you would be at the top of the heap. However, I know that there is a different standard, a much higher standard, that you have made me realize.

I think that the ultimate measure of a person's worth is not so much the company you keep as it is the company you have helped create.

Over the years I've known you, I've had the distinct pleasure of getting to know your friends and family. Maureen and the kids and the step-kids and Lucas and the other brother Lucas (that's still funny to me!). I realize now that all of those you've left behind define you. And it's a very high bar, indeed.

I feel that I should share a story now that I've made these serious noises. I still think about sitting in that office off the 16th Street Mall when the AC didn't quite keep up with the heat and we had the windows all open as wide as we could force them. You know, I'm not sure that building even had AC. Anyway, there was that older Hispanic gentleman who had chosen the very same alley that our windows opened on to set up his "stage." I have to give him credit for sheer persistence with his weapon of choice. And what a weapon it was: a saxophone, a tenor saxophone! Imagine the sound of some poor waterfowl in the most desperate of situations singing a vaguely familiar tune. Cielito Lindo really sticks in my mind. Now, have that sound echo between the brick walls on either side of a particularly smelly alley. (I'm starting to remember the olfactory side of this. Nothing like a hot dumpster, eh?) And, I know this really isn't possible, but it seemed so at the time, have that anguished cry get ever louder as it rises toward our windows. And the thing that I remember most is the look on your face when he fired up that terrible instrument and you asked me if I would be willing to contribute to a fund to get him to move somewhere else. Anywhere else.

I'll never forget that. You are truly a high point for me.

Jim,

It's been said that you're judged by the company you keep. If that was the only criterion, you would be at the top of the heap. However, I know that there is a different standard, a much higher standard, that you have made me realize.

I think that the ultimate measure of a person's worth is not so much the company you keep as it is the company you have helped create.

Over the years I've known you, I've had the distinct pleasure of getting to know your friends and family. Maureen and the kids and the step-kids and Lucas and the other brother Lucas (that's still funny to me!). I realize now that all of those you've left behind define you. And it's a very high bar, indeed.

I feel that I should share a story now that I've made these serious noises. I still think about sitting in that office off the 16th Street Mall when the AC didn't quite keep up with the heat and we had the windows all open as wide as we could force them. You know, I'm not sure that building even had AC. Anyway, there was that older Hispanic gentleman who had chosen the very same alley that our windows opened on to set up his "stage." I have to give him credit for sheer persistence with his weapon of choice. And what a weapon it was: a saxophone, a tenor saxophone! Imagine the sound of some poor waterfowl in the most desperate of situations singing a vaguely familiar tune. Cielito Lindo really sticks in my mind. Now, have that sound echo between the brick walls on either side of a particularly smelly alley. (I'm starting to remember the olfactory side of this. Nothing like a hot dumpster, eh?) And, I know this really isn't possible, but it seemed so at the time, have that anguished cry get ever louder as it rises toward our windows. And the thing that I remember most is the look on your face when he fired up that terrible instrument and you asked me if I would be willing to contribute to a fund to get him to move somewhere else. Anywhere else.

I'll never forget that. You are truly a high point for me.

Yesterday was the one-year anniversary of Jim’s death. I still miss him. I know that I am not alone. To me he was a cherished friend, a guide and an inspiration, but he was also the husband and Great Love of one of my best friends, and a father, brother, childhood friend and companion... so much more to so many people. The following passages from The Dance of Life by Nouwen, came to me today; I thought they might help someone else too, might help one of my companions in grief:

“When we lose a dear friend, someone we have loved deeply, we are left with a grief that can paralyze us emotionally for a long time. People we love become a part of us. Our thinking, feeling and acting are codetermined by them. Our fathers, our mothers, our wives, our lovers, our children, our friends... that are all living in our hearts. When they die a part of us dies too. That is what grief is all about: it is that slow and painful departure of someone who has become an intimate part of us. When Christmas, New Year, a birthday or an anniversary comes, we feel deeply the absence of our beloved companion. We sometimes have to live a whole year or more before our hearts have fully said good-bye and the pain of our grief recedes. But as we let go of them they become a part of our “members” and as we “re-member” them, they become guides on our spiritual journey.

As we grow older we have more and more people to remember, people who have died before us. It is very important to remember those who have loved us and those we have loved. Remembering them means letting their spirits inspire us in our daily lives. They can become part of our spiritual communities and gently help us as we make decisions on our journeys. Parents, spouses, children, and friends, can become true spiritual companions after they have died. Sometimes they can become even more intimate to us after death than when they were with us in life. Remembering the dead is choosing their ongoing companionship.”

My personal experience is that it might take much longer than a year, in fact, thus far I find the ongoing spiritual companionship of dear friends and teachers is always tinged with grief. Perhaps that is not a bad thing in that it reminds me always of the fragility of life which in turn reminds me to cherish even more those not yet departed.

May all of Jim’s family and friends be comforted by his ongoing spiritual companionship. May Jim swiftly attain Enlightenment so as to benefit, guide and inspire all sentient beings even more than he did and could in this last lifetime.

Christina

I wanted to write here yesterday but couldn't figure out exactly what to say. Instead I took some time to read through all of the amazing stories written on this page. As always they made me laugh, cry and remember all the wonderful things about Dad. I am forever grateful to all the people who took the time to share these things and your support has been comforting in a way I can't put into words.

This past year has gone incredibly fast and unbearably slow all at the same time. Even with the ups and downs it has been one for the books and I feel incredibly lucky for the opportunities I've had. Call it fate, call it chance but I "happened" to get a work assignment in Vietnam in May of last year. I spent the summer there just outside of DaNang and with my sister Gwen at my side we traveled to some of the worst and the best places in the central part of the country. Pleiku was just about one of the most unfriendly places I've been...but just up the road was KonTum. Dad had always mentioned how much he loved the montagnards and mentioned the village of KonTum in some of his letters. KonTum to this day remains one of the happiest places I've ever been and warms my heart every time I think of it. I can just imagine how much he enjoyed spending time with the people of that village. If anyone would like to see pictures from the trip please let me know.

I'm currently taking flying lessons and while at times I feel like it's the closest I can be to Dad I sure wish I could ask him the trick for steep turns and dangit...I still don't have the crosswind landings down. He would have never admitted it but I'm sure he breezed through his pilot training ...but I know he'd have some anecdotes for someone somewhere who's fudged a landing or could tell me why I can do power on stalls easily but can't do a steep turn to save my life. I'm sure he'll be cringing the first time I take "the mistress" up. Sorry in advance, Pops.

I'll never forget the first time Dad did a loop in the RV (he'd never done one before but ever so carefully consulted Larry Hastings on the subject) he took his dictating machine...probably as a makeshift "black box". He played the tape for me after the flight and all you hear for awhile is the plane engine noise and then you hear the changes in the engine sound as he goes through the motions of the loop and as he comes out of it the engine sound was overshadowed with a very triumphant "YEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS". You could almost hear him grinning ear to ear. Unfortunately the dictator was probably stomped on and run over in the parking lot of the clinic. :)

I miss you pops but I'm filled with memories of all the amazing things about you.

Jim's family has founded a scholarship in his honor, the Dr. James William Howell Memorial Scholarship. The first scholarship will be awarded in May, 2010. Although it is a modest beginning we hope that the number or awards will grow year by year.
Jim was an optimist. He saw a better future for this country and the world in his own children, grandchildren and scores of other people's children and grandchildren that he knew and took care of.
Jim and I talked about how we had become the old curmudgeons saying "this younger generation . . . ". The truth is that Jim believed that this younger generation could help make right the things that his generation had broken, forgotten, neglected or just didn't know enough to design clever solutions to the problems that threaten to destroy this world.
Jim did not believe that children were our future. He believed that children are our now. Education is just one tool in the kit of leadeship, but it is a critical one. This is our family's gift in gratitude for my husband and their father, stepfather and grandfather.
Jim, I love you and I miss you.
Maureen

Hello all,

It has been some months since I have read through these stories and I feel the same mixture of pride and sorrow as I flip through them again. Coming up on the anniversary of Jim's departure I wanted to thank everyone who share stories with us about Jim and especially thank all of you who have kept in touch.

My son Aaron still asks about his grandpa all the time and I tell him stories about what a great man he was. I feel truly blessed to have had a chance to know Jim as I did and I miss him greatly.

Having lost my own father my heart goes out to my Brother and Sisters as I know March will always weigh heavily on there hearts as it does mine.

I love you all.

Lucas

Well, Jim it's been nine months since you shuffled off. Your funeral was a good one and your children did you proud. Christmas is coming up and, of course being an emotional season, my thoughts have been of Christmas' past. I guess I will never forget the cinnamon rolls and the popcorn balls.

As you know, I am not much for religions, but I do enjoy the Christmas season--in a pagan sort of way. I am, however, a bit of a sentimental old fool. In that regard: Merry Christmas, old friend, to you and the rest of our classmates who have crossed over. Whereever you are, I hope it is warm and cozy. May your family be well.

"I have to say what is too obvious and that among our family there has never been even a thimbleful of hate, distrust, or disrespect. This one of the truly rare and beautiful things one can hope for in this world - perhaps the only thing one can hope for and it would embarrass anyone of us to have to say it aloud" James William Howell January 4, 1969

"When the heart grieves over what it has lost, the spirit rejoices over what it has left." Anonymous

Just abrief add-on to my previous blurb, which was written before I read all the testimonials from medical co-workers, patients, and family. I had read a brief posting by Lucas and seen the pictures of him with his"mistress" and family. After reading these thoughts contained above, I feel compelled to add a little. It is obvious that Jim turned out to be a product of raising"", becoming the compassionate, caring individual I knew his parents to be. Many of the stories Jim's kids' friends tell of being comfortable hanging out with Jim and Maureen could have been--and have been--written about Bernard and Vivian by those of us who were made to feel welcome in their home. Those wonderful examples being paid forward will comtinue, I'm sure unto the generatiions to come. The roots and wings we give our children are the only enduring gifts. And, it's obvious Jim's havwe fallen on fertile ground. God bless.

I grew up on Custer Street in Sheridan, Wyo, right across the street from the Howell family.
Bernard and Vivian were two of the most wonderful people I ever knew. My mother worked for a time at their store, and I was probably over there 3 or 4 times a day. Jimmy and I were
in the same grade in school, although he was 10 months younger - he made the birthday cutoff, by one day, and I was born in Dec., so had to wait. I remember all the pictures my mother had of us with our snowsuits and slush pails, he was so much smaller than me, as I was pretty much a lummox. On the first day of kindergarten there he was, just 4 years old with little suspenders, as we posed for our first day of school picture. We walked to and from Custer School everyday, and shared a desk in first grade- the kind with the table with 2 shelves in the middle. We were singled out one day for having the messiest desk in class - which Jimmy pronounced "uncontstitutional" that day, as we were walking home, still smarting from the embarassment. I'm pretty sure I didn't know what that meant, but I learned early on that he wqs pretty muich right about everything. After spending K-3 at Custer, we made the big leap to Taylor for 4-6, across the R R tracks and Main Street. It seemed so big. Custer was the last time we would share a classroom, I think. I don't remember being in class with him there, although we were still neighborhood friends. Soon after, they began to assemble the smarter kids in the same home room in junior high, and I think the rest of us wherever. Of course in high school he took all the advanced science and math, while the majority of us did what was required to graduate.

I Kind of went down the garden path there, because most of my memories of Jimmy are of the childhood we shared. His sisters, one 5 years older, and one 5 years younger than we were were also my friends, especially Janie. I was still living at home recovering from a car accident when she and I got close, playing all kinds of board games with another neighbor Beth Miller. I'm sorry I lost touch with her and would love to hear from her.

The Howells were the first family to ;have a television, and I think we were still at Custer, somewhere around 1952 or 53. I know I was a pest, asking to go over on Friday nights, but they never treated me that way. Nothing I could imagine could ever compare to having a television set, and a store underneath. I remember many times Vivian loading us up in the blue Ford for at the drive-in movie. The Howell's raised their children to be decent and fair the way they were. I have often wondered how much money didn't get paid on the grocery bills he carried for nearlly everyone in the neighborhood. But, I never knew either one of them, to say a harsh word to or about anyone. That's what made Jimmy so special - he never changed in all the time I knew him. He was very popular, but still remained the same nice person, and this is what I remember most. Just before I got married in l969, I would come home from being out and Jim would be sitting out in the back yard, and I think he was going through some hard times after Viet Nam. Sometimes we'd sit outside and talk, about anything other than that, just a visit about his sisters, and music. etc. He was surrounded by hangers-on from the minute he started jr high, and it became apparent he was going to be the leader of our class, and I think he took it with his usual droll way of thinking. But, he was very focused and treated everyone in an evenhanded way. I remember when I heard he had become a doctor, I wasn't suprised, knowing his personality and compassion. It had been nearly 30 years since I have lived in Sheridan, and the last time I was there was to bury my mother in 2003. I'm sorry I only just heard of Jim's passing. My deepest sympathy to all of his family, I know he was the wonderful husband and family man you describe and is evident in the pictures. May your wonderful memories sustain you, and your faith kekep you strong.