[Nfb-river-city] Death of an ally

[Lisa Gorden]

I am sad to have to tell you that my dad Mark Gorden passed away on January 18th in his sleep.  As a Davis resident for 25 years, he knew many blind people in the Sacramento area.  Besides being the best father who ever could have existed, my dad was a true believer in blind people.  Never once did he see my blindness as tragic, and he loved being around blind people.  He loved the Federation because of its independent spirit, and because the NFB is a community of blind people who can come together to share a common experience.

A celebration of his life will take place Sunday, January 28th, at 2-00 P.M. at the Palms Playhouse on 113 Main Street in Winters.


 Old truths and ancient magic, revolution and invention, all conspire to distract us from the passion that in one way or another defeats us all.  And weary finally of this complexity, we dream of that long ago time when we sat upon our mother's knee and each kiss was the perfect consummation of desire.  What can we do but reach for the embrace that must now contain both heaven and hell.    (Rice, A. O.  The Vampire Lestat, 500)
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I am sad to have to tell you that my dad Mark Gorden passed away on January 18th in his sleep.  As a Davis resident for 25 years, he knew many blind people in the Sacramento area.  Besides being the best father who ever could have existed, my dad was a true believer in blind people.  Never once did he see my blindness as tragic, and he loved being around blind people.  He loved the Federation because of its independent spirit, and because the NFB is a community of blind people who can come together to share a common experience.
 
A celebration of his life will take place Sunday, January 28th, at 2-00 P.M. at the Palms Playhouse on 113 Main Street in Winters.
 
 
 
Old truths and ancient magic, revolution and invention, all conspire to distract us from the passion that in one way or another defeats us all.  And weary finally of this complexity, we dream of that long ago time when we sat upon our mother's knee and each kiss was the perfect consummation of desire.  What can we do but reach for the embrace that must now contain both heaven and hell.    (Rice, A. O.  The Vampire Lestat, 500)