Jim was a wonderful friend and comrade during the ten years that we practiced together at the Lander Medical Clinic. He was always kind and supportive of me during times of travail for me. One of the funniest recollections that I have with Jim was in about 1992 when he was caring for a newborn with severe respiratory problems from immature lungs. A product for treatment, Surfactant, had just been released and neither he nor I knew how to properly instill it into the infant's lungs. I read the directions and he attempted to follow them. (I'm glad that the parents didn't see this 'cookbook' reading!). But, by golly, the drug got instilled via Jim's intubation of the infant and the patient made a remarkable recovery.

Jim lives on in all our lives.....he touched many people, me included.

Fondly,

Phil Gilbertson

During grades 7 - 9 I had a paper route that ended near Jimmy's home. His parents ran a grocery store there. After my route, I always stopped at SHARPS GROCERY for a soft drink and a snack. Jimmy's father (I believe his name was Birney), like Jimmy, always had a smile and a friendly 'hello' when I stopped by. During this year's 45th high school reunion, I intended to ask him what ever became of the grocery store. I remember him as academically gifted and a really nice guy.

I always know I have a lot to say when I have a hard time starting. But I know that the way that anything is built, whether it be a sentence, an airplane or a life, it is done one small action at a time.

I am back in Seattle now, trying to regain my senses, and the idea that my Dad won't be on the other end of the line when I want to call him- to tell him something exciting! to ask him about something important or just simply to talk and say, "How was your day?"

While jumping back into what is my normal life, I found myself scattered and lost. "Where are my keys? Where are my dog walking clothes? The shoes? My jacket? I was zig zagging around trying to remember what I was supposed to do.

I stopped.

I saw the scroll. Hanging by the doorway, I notice it afresh. It is a scroll that I had also given Dad one Christmas, it's words are of the Dalai Lama.

A PRECIOUS HUMAN LIFE

"Every day, think as you wake up,
Today I am fortunate to have woken up.
I am alive, I have a precious human life.

I am not going to waste it.

I am going to use
all my energies to develop myself.
To expand my heart out to others,
to achieve enlightenment for
the benefit of all beings,

I am going to have kind
thoughts toward others,
I am not going to get angry,
or think badly about others

I am going to benefit others
as much as I can."

His Holiness, the 14th Dalai Lama

Dad did not waste his precious human life, he developed himself, he extended his heart and he definately benefitted others as much as he could. He is the Dalai Lama's words personified.

With a spirit so big and so profound, it is hard for me to pick the one story that matters the most to me. Every moment, every space in time with him was infinitely special to me.

Here's what has been running through my head....

Riding on his shoulders
Laughing
Him telling me that he would sell me to the gypsys for being a "bad little girl" and laughing when my eyes got as big as saucers, believing him
Holding both my hands and spinning me so fast that I was flying. I fell to the ground dizzy. When I recover, I yell, "Do it again Daddy! Do it again!"
Summer evening bike rides
Bedtime stories- making him retell my favorites over and over again
Screaming at the kitchen table, not wanting to do my math. He told me I couldn't leave the table until I finished- and when I did, I got up, went to my room and passed out.
Disneyland- making him ride the "It's a small world after all" ride over and over again. He began to loathe it, but he kept riding it with me.
Having him carry me into the house from the car, while I was "sleeping."
Interrupting him during a nap, to have him put on the microscopically small shoes on Barbie
Summer evening walks
Creative easter egg coloring sessions
Summer picnics in Wyoming
Driving up Sinks canyon because it was Sunday
Breakfast for Dinner
Waiting for endless hours at the nursing station for him while he finished rounds.
Waiting for endless hours at the clinic, while he finished dictation.
Teaching me to drive- making me learn how to do "cookies" in the Field house parking lot because "you need to know how to control the car when it spins on ice."
Teaching me to parallel park, check the oil, change a tire and how to use jumper cables. For the record, I rock at all of those.
Flying in the seaplane
Watching him click his heels together
Having him "start" a nail for me. In two swift bangs, he would get it almost all the way in and cringed as he listened to me BANG! BANG! BANG! everything but the nail
Going downstairs into the garage to sit on the aluminum dust covered stool to have another long conversation.
Helping him build the airplane. (boy, I can buck a rivet)
Listening to him when he called me at college, telling me the story of how he did a Loop for the first time. He was so EXCITED!
Driving with him- he would come pick me up from college in Bozeman ( a seven hour drive one way from Lander) we talked the whole time.
When the plane was finished, he would come get me from Bozeman. Only an hour and a half one way. Less talking, but the silence was fine, since the beauty of the flight, the sky above and the ground below was overwhelmingly beautiful and peaceful.

Watching, one summer evening as he treated a resident from the State school. This man, known for his physical outbursts was considered a difficult patient. Dad shooed away the overzealous grounds security man, knowing this interaction had to be quiet.

Quietly, I stood in the doorway. This resident, maybe his name was "Hank" was bleeding from a deep cut above his eyebrow. He had fallen on the side walk. Dad had guided him into the exam room and helped him to sit down on the table. Then, Dad backed away and pulled up a chair close to the door and sat down.

Softly Dad said,"Gosh Hank, that looks like a really big cut on your head. Did you fall down?"

Hank nodded.

"Well, I bet that hurts a lot. I think we should take a look at that and see if we can fix that up for you. Hank, would that be ok? Would it be ok if I took a look at it?"

Hank nodded softly

Dad slowly got up, went to the cabinet, taking surgical gloves, some saline and suture supplies. He put on his gloves, put the sutures supplies on a tray and pushed it aside. He moved closer to Hank, explaining as he went.

"Well Hank, let's take a look here and see what we've got" As Dad looked at the cut, he was quiet and explained that it was deep and we could fix it right up.

I stood in the doorway. Amazed. I was watching something magic. I knew it in the moment, even at the age of 12.

Dad told Hank that the saline solution would be cold and wet. Hank was so calm. So peaceful. He really heard Dad and what is more important, he trusted him. He trusted him as Dad explained that the needle for the local would sting a little bit, but it would be ok. Hank was still as Dad worked quietly stiching this gash above his eyebrow.

Hank was still. I was still. Dad was focused. The sun was setting in the Wyoming sky, illuminating the magic of Dad's peaceful presence.

I can't pick the right story. He loved me endlessly, effortlessly and always. He believed in me. Supported me and knew that I was strong, would find my own way and live my own dreams. He is an example of greatness.

I love him. I miss him so much. I don't have enough words. My Daddy was and is my everything. He has always always always been there so softly, so sweetly and so beautifully there for me. No questions asked. Ever.

Daddy, Spin me Again! Tell me the Story Again! And I know he will. His love will spin me in the right direction and his love is my story.

Daddy, I Love you.

Your Little Gwennie
aka Peanut, Pumpkin, Munchkin and Sweetie

I just wanted to take a minute now that I finally got myself online in the middle east (computers seem to not work as well here) and share something I've been thinking about.

When I found out about Dr. Howell, I guess it took a while for it to sink in. After speaking with Luas I just began to feel angry about it. But as I reflected on the stories I have read here, and the way he truly did provide each and every one of us with a fair bit of wonder and inspiration I began to see that it would be far more honorific and productive to learn from his example once more: be cool about things, relax and think it through.

I was boarding a flight from Fort Lewis to Iraq at almost the precise moment that the family held the memorial service. I would have given anything to be there. I thought about goodbyes--the ones that were being said to Jim and the ones that I had just said to my family--the entire flight.

What I have decided is that goodbyes aren't worth much. It's far better to focus on the memories, the meaning of shared time, and the next time you'll meet. I've never been religious, but I can agree that we'll probably all see each other again if we live our lives with a bit of grace, as Jim did.

Dr. Howell--like me--went to combat with the 4th Infantry Division. The last time I saw the entire Howell clan assembled in one place was on the 4th of July in Lander a couple years ago. Jim and I shared a laugh about both having served time with, as he so famously dubbed it "the fighting, fucked-up fourth!" This deployment will definitely be dedicated to him, and all you Howells and Rogers that have made my life better throughout the years.

Finally, there is a song that's been in my head for a while too, and I mention it because it always has, and always will remind me of Dr. Howell. It's by Stephen Stills, and I think it really suits.

TREETOP FLYER:

I could be a rambler from the seven dials
I don't pay taxes 'cause I never file
I don't do business that don't make me smile
I love my aeroplane 'cause she's got style
I'm a treetop flyer

I'll fly any cargo, that you can pay to run the bush league pilots, they just can't get the job done
Got to fly down into the canyon, ya' don't ever see the sun
There's no such thing as an easy run
For a treetop flyer

I'm flyin' low, I'm in high demand
Go fifteen feet over the Rio Grande
I'll blow the mesquite right up of off the sand
Seldom seen, especially when I land
I'm a treetop flyer
Born Survivor

People been asking me, "Where'd you learn to fly that way?"
It was over in Vietnam, chasin' NVA
The government taught me, and they taught me right,
Stay down, under the treeline, you might be alright
Treetop flyer

So I'm comin' home, I'm runnin' low and fast
I promised my woman this is gonna be my last
I get the ship down, I tie her fast
then some old boy walks up, and he says "Hey son" wanna' make some fast cash?
I'm a treetop flyer

Well there's things I am, and there's things I'm not
I am a smuggler and I could get shot
I aint going to die, I ain't goin' to get caught,
See I'm a flyin' fool, in an aeroplane that's just too hot
I'm a treetop flyer
Born survivor

Take care.
RPC

"In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing and so it will be as if all the stars were laughing when you look at the sky at night... and there is a sweetness in the laughter of all the stars and in the memories of those you love.." With heartfelt sympathy

Note - From an underclass man of Sheridan High School - class of 1965. Yep Jim was one of the good guys - bright, articulate yet self effacing. It is obvious from the other tributes that he enriched the world in which he walked and the world will be poorer for his untimely death. Condlolences to his family and many friends.

One of the leaders of my church describes death like taking off a glove. We bury the glove, our body, but the spirit rises to go home to his Heavenly Father. The spirit cannot be killed. We all know that Jimmy was talented. Sometimes, the Savior needs those talents. He was a special child of God. I extend my deepest sympathy to you and your family. I am proud to known him years ago.
Mary jane Grange

Dear howell family:
Sorry. i accidently hit the submit key. i was not finished. This part is for you. You mentioned that you will never see him again. That is not true. As a nurse and a doctor, Jimmy and I have had experiences with patients about to die or who have just died. There is a special spirit around them. Often, they see members of their family who have passed on. It is not an hallucination. Some patients have come back and told us about that journey. You will see your husband and father and son again.

Dear Family of Dr. James Howell:
In Sheridan, I often sat by Jimmy because our last names started with H. Many of us tried
to compete with Jimmy and soon discovered we could not. Years later, I was came on duty as an R.N. for shift report. I came around the corner and there stood Jimmy. We stared at each shocked. Simultaneously, he dropped the chart he was reading and I dropped my purse and lunch box and we hugged each other. He told me he had a beautiful family. He was undecided what specialty he was going into. He was an intern doing his rotation in Obstetrics. We saw each other occasionally. After that first greeting, I got in trouble with my headnurse for being too familiar with a doctor. I had to apologize to the doctor. Only, I could not recall being familiar with a doctor. As a nurse, I like to brake them in. When I seen Dr. Howell again, I realized it was Jimmy that she was talking about. I did apologize. He told me he was still Jimmy. My head nurse did not understand that we were school mates and from Wyoming. That is how Wyoming people treat each other.
.

I want to express my deepest pain that I have felt in many years, for you, your family, your friends, your patients and for me!
I wish that it could be put in words, a song, a story or a poem, but over the last few days it has been said in tears, a smile and that strong Wyoming wind!!!

Everything tells me to move forward, does not tell me which way, but it is encouraging.
I have lost a few days in my life - most my own doing, but 3/21/09 will never be one of those days, thank you all.

What is next? I do not know, but I am being pulled forward and now I need to trust, believe and move - forward.

May his love overshadow the pain... in time and may the pain be shorter time after time and his love stronger and stronger as you remember and live for Jim, Dad, my Friend, The Doctor, my Brother, the Man!!!

God Bless, Terry D.

I have been inspired by the wonderful tributes told at the memorial service and on this site. I thought I would tell another Jim Howell story:

I first met Jim because he was the husband of a fellow Chinese Medicine classmate; one who became such a dear friend of mine. During the first few years, Jim came down from Wyoming every so often to see his wife, so we often saw him in social settings. At least once he came to our “Clinic Forum” class with Maureen. Clinic forum was the class where patients and papers were presented and the patients treated under the supervision of various senior teachers.

This particular time I remember when Jim came to clinic forum one of the upper classmen was generous enough to allow herself to be presented as a patient (it was never easy to be a patient… you wouldn’t believe what odd and intimate things Chinese Medicine practitioners ask about!) Our teacher that day was one of the more effective clinicians. Our patient reported a long history of terrible lower back pain. The diagnosis was something like “cold trapped in the sacrum” (more probably, in Chinese parlance, Cold Damp Bi Syndrome. I don’t remember exactly.)

The teacher performed the treatment. It was a local treatment (needles in the site of the discomfort.) So here was our friend, the patient, laying face-down on the treatment table with two rows of needles sticking out of her sacrum, one row of probably 5 or 6 needles on each side of her sacrum. The teacher invited all of us to come and feel the cold rising from the site of the needles. Wow! It was really amazing! It was amazing even to those of us who were confirmed believers. There was this actual feeling of a cold breeze rising from the needles!

After most all the students had drifted off from the patient back to their own little cliques or off to make notes or have a short break, I see Jim sort of sideling up to the patient. Up to then, he’d been hanging out in the back, making like a wall-flower. This was still back in the days when he seemed to think we were all practicing voodoo and smoke screens but was too polite to voice that opinion. So I watched carefully, wanting to observe his reaction.

He snuck up to where the patient lay on the table, he held his hand over the needles and he got the most incredible look on his face… he moved his hand away… he put it back...

His look just screamed “Zen Moment!”

He stayed there a long time, all the while wearing this look of most intense stillness, concentration and deep puzzlement.

It was beautiful to watch.

I say that because it is so human to cling to our preconceptions and our past training and our carefully constructed paradigms, but here was a man in one of the most rigid of professional fields, who was obviously allowing his Universe to be reordered right there in our shabby little clinic forum room.

I felt privileged to watch. Such a thing is an exceedingly rare event and joyous if allowed to be, but more than that I was almost overwhelmed by a feeling of such profound respect for one who could be so very accomplished and yet awake and open enough to accept and integrate a Teaching so far outside of the normal comfort zone.

Ok, ok, so I was also highly amused and teased him endlessly---but whatever else are friends for?

I am deeply grateful not only for the joyous insights and laughter he brought to our lives, but even more for how he modeled the Path of the Healer, the Warrior and the Wizard. I vow to model my own practice, both spiritual and medical, after his extraordinary example---may I continue to ceaselessly develop in all areas right up until the end, just as he did.

Christina

What a guy, friendly to the T. If it werent for Jim, Maureen and Lucus Operating Permits at Jicarilla Oil and Gas would seize to exist as it does today. Thank you for your patience all those one on one trainings of the website and most aimed to make my job better and easier Jim,you gave many countless hours just to help me. I remeber most when the Operating Permits section was complete, you walked throught it with me and then it was my turn. I told you dont say anything unless I mess up. You watched me and I would look over at you we smiled and chuckled it was a rememerable time. When I was finished I told you are we done you said Yes!!, you got it! You told my boss I was born to do this. You belived in my ability to get project on its way and now I use this program daily Thank you, Jim I will miss you...Maureen and Lucus, my prayers are with you and your family. You always be welcomed here at Jicarilla. Your friend,
Merldine K. Oka

What a wonderful service. Thanks to all of you who shared memories of Dr. Howell. I was touched by your strength on such a difficult day. I knew Dr. Howell from WSTS where I was a pharmacist. Several of the things that amazed me about Dr. Howell have already been mentioned by others. His ability to diagnose patients that couldn't talk and tell you where or how it hurt. His beautiful handwriting. His willingness to teach. I always felt I had learned something after going of rounds with him (yes Sandy M drew a great picture of him on rounds). The comupter system that he developed for interaction between pharmacy and medical records was fantastic. If it needed tweaking - he could do that. It was a sad day when we had to change to a canned probram that never fit as well as Dr. Howell's version. I know he loved his children - his face would light up when he talked of them. It was great to see you all grown up adults! You have been in my thoughts and prayers.

I will alway appreciate Dr. Howell for his kindness, and the deep caring he had for his patients. My family has many good memories of him, and he will always be in our thoughts. Our thoughts and prayers go out to his family.

I am friends with his daughter.

I only met him once.

We talked at dinner, and it felt like we had known each other are whole lives... Oh, that dosen't happen to me. I am not a "social butterfly"... most first time meeting for me are akward and uncomfortable. We had lots of laughs at that dinner!

Funny... from that point on... HE was my friend!

I know this is a bit rambley and unfocused... I have a feeling that a few people are going to know what I mean. Great man.... He will be missed.