Don Schatz was a rock for me. He was an older man who cared deeply for me. A father in a way. I first met Don in the early 1980’s, not long after he and Eunice had moved from Chicago to Boston. The Schatz’s, together with Dick Faxon were exploring a venture called Many Mansions, an effort to reach out in downtown Boston through the arts. They had an open house one day, and I came in and found Don, playing an upright string bass, accompanying somebody on piano.

Many Mansions did not thrive, and Don and Eunice and Dick began Life/Work Direction in the storefront in Savin Hill. The Life/Work workshops became a thing among my group of friends, and a number of them went through it - and in the fullness of time, I did as well. This was in the fall of 1984. One of the first things Don and Life/Work suggested was an eight-day silent retreat at Eastern Point Retreat House in Gloucester. I had never been on any kind of retreat before then! To get used to Catholic practice ahead of time (since Eastern Point is run by the Jesuits), Don suggested I go to Mass at Saint Anthony’s Shrine in Boston. So I did. The retreat was wonderful, of course, and I had the pleasure of having Dick Faxon as a fellow retreatant.

As I look back on those times, my experience with Don and Life/Work appears as an inflection point or perhaps a liminal time, when I began to move from what I had been toward a deeper and more mature personhood. Don encouraged me to engage in therapy work, which I did with a number of different therapists over the ensuing 15 years. It changed me deeply, though it is difficult to articulate exactly how. I can say that in the later years of my involvement with Don, our relationship was characterized more by friendship than a mentor/mentee dynamic.

I don’t know if this is a good way to say it, but Don, as an abstract poet, was the most non-linear thinker I ever knew. As anyone who ever “worked” with him knows, he had a knack for asking questions to which there did not seem to be any answer. Or at least in order to answer, you had to dig deeply into yourself. You would be having a casual conversation with Don, and then the questions would get more pointed, and you would suddenly realize that he was now working with you. With respect to his poetry, I always felt he was disappointed that I did not show more interest in it. I found the best way to approach his work seemed to be to read it aloud, which I did, to him, on a couple of occasions.

Following Life/Work, I continued to work with Don on a less formal basis, and we kept in touch. Toward the end of the 80’s I entered upon the first of the major life crises I was to experience. I was riven with anxiety and unable to sleep. My life was spinning out of control, and I was deeply frightened. During this time, Don was working as a security guard/doorman in various buildings in Beacon Hill and the Back Bay. Since he worked mostly at night, his duties were light, and he would allow me to come and sit with him while he was on duty. Don’s non-anxious presence and love (as I would say now) were very important in keeping me going and keeping me grounded during that time. It is in this connection that I say Don saved my life, as I expressed to him not long ago.

I moved to California not long after that, and my times with Don became more limited, but I always visited when I was in Boston, and there were phone conversations to fill in the gaps. By this time Don and Eunice knew me well enough to be able to speak to me at some key decision points, and I have blessed then since then for their wisdom. I have to say that Don could see the realities of my life in a way I could not. In particular, he could see that I was a solitary and that I was going to remain single in life some years before I could finally see and accept and affirm that for myself.

In more recent years, while there were not really any watershed events, our connection and love for each other became stronger. In this year of years, with the arrival of COVID, our phone calls became more frequent, and I am grateful that we had some good conversations and were able to say important things to each other before he set out on his final journey.

And so I say to all: Thanks be to God for the life of Don Schatz!