Oct. 31 is All Hallows Eve (aka Halloween) or All Saints Eve, an occasion on which some churches remember, appreciate and give thanks for those who have gone before us. This year I seem to be especially mindful of Forest Parkers who have died, and who, while they were with us, had an impact in personal ways.

This is not an attempt to make a list of famous Forest Parkers, but to acknowledge people I miss, believing that you may be missing some of them too.

Dorothy Gillian 

Dorothy was 69 years old when she died recently, way too young.

What I miss most of all is her sunny personality. I knew her as both my realtor and as president for the Chamber of Commerce on whose board I serve. Trying to put into words what she has meant to me, I thought of an Ojibway saying, “Sometimes I go about in pity for myself, and all the while, a great wind carries me across the sky.”

Dorothy seemed to be connected to that “Great Wind,” and I liked being in her presence.

Art Jones 

Art was a classy guy who had his feet firmly planted on the ground. He was superintendent of schools here at District 91 and in two other suburban districts. His income was therefore big enough that he and his wife could have afforded to live in more ritzy communities, but he and Sally chose to continue living in Forest Park.

“He comes from a coal mining town in West Virginia,” explained Carl Schwebl, a longtime friend, “where people worked hard for a living. Art worked hard to get where he is. He was not too proud to caddy at golf courses to help pay his way through school. He recognized that same trait in many of the residents of Forest Park.”

I don’t hesitate to use the word “love” for the way Dr. Jones felt about this village with small-town charm.

Fr. John Fearon 

Fr. John Fearon was the longtime pastor of St. Bernardine Catholic Church on Harrison Street. I came to town in 1982 as a relatively young Lutheran pastor, and he accepted me as a colleague from day one. 

Those were heady times for those of us with ecumenical leanings.

In his Letter to the Ephesians, Paul urged his listeners to “speak the truth in love.” Fr. John’s parishioners felt his love and so did I.

Nick Kozak 

In an interview in 2019, Nick Kozak told me that he had two jobs — one as an officer with the Forest Park Police Department and one as a member of the U.S. Army National Guard Special Operations Force. “Love,” he told me, “is necessary for doing both jobs well.” 

In a study published in August 2016, the Army identified the three main characteristics of a Special Operations warrior as toughness, audacity and love. According to the report, the best “see, feel, and build genuine trust relationships with the people they live and work among.”

In Afghanistan Kozak’s unit supplied the residents of a village with flour, rice and other supplies, but they also taught them how to defend themselves because the Taliban had been coming in and kidnapping young men of fighting age.

One day, 15 of the special ops officers were in the village when the Taliban attacked. A nine-hour battle ensued, with the army itself outgunned — until 250 Afghan villagers rallied to fight the Taliban and protect the 15 Americans there. 

Kozak observed that many people here in Forest Park were afraid to talk to the police. He said communication boils down to trust. Trust, he believed, must be earned.

Aware that people have preconceived images of what a police officer is, he began deconstructing stereotypes by simply saying, “Good morning” to people with a smile. He knew how to say “good morning” in Arabic, Russian, Polish and Korean — the first languages of some of the business people in town.

One of the main causes of polarization in this country is that people are “insulated” from others in their own view of the world. 

“We have to have the audacity,” he said, “to look past ‘what we know’ and that develops empathy.”

Larry Biondi 

Larry Biondi was born with cerebral palsy, and his speech was harder to understand than mine. That Ojibway saying about feeling sorry yourself? Larry showed me by the way he lived and the way he worked as an advocate at the Progress Center how to not let a disability prevent anyone from living fully.

He’d travel to Springfield with other advocates and give legislators an earful about doing more for people with disabilities. 

No apologies for his speech!