My friend, Nash Basom, died quietly on August 3, held in death, as in life, by his loving family.
We had known each other since 1945. G’nash, as I liked to call him, was one of those unassuming people who offer wisdom and love, without being ostentatious. He was a practicing Quaker who did not speak in anger; he made his points with equal force by expressing his thoughts with care, from a face and manner that displayed conviction without insistence. He was a conscientious objector, serving in Africa nonviolently, rather than in the military. He was that rare person, loved or at least respected and admired by anyone who met him. He wasn’t physically imposing, but persistence and skill, and undeniable strength created a wonderful house, and surrounding garden and landscape which he shared with his partner, Mariel, and their daughters, Kit and Reeve.
If you worked with Nash, you had to put up with what in someone else might have a different appellation, but in Nash it was simply meticulous skill. He was a craftsman in physical work and in professional life. Nash was able to serve Glover as a selectman for a short time before his cancer expressed itself. He was a studious and thoughtful leader, and would have become a great one with the time otherwise not allowed his service. Nash was a caring counselor to students at North Country, to staff and campers at Farm and Wilderness Camps, and especially to my son, Laszlo, as he struggled with young adulthood. I often went to him for advice, and I always came away calmed and comforted, with sound counsel to consider.
Nash died quietly with grace and determination when he knew he could no longer survive his illness. Graceful in life, and in death; Nash was a truly remarkable man. Thank you for letting me share part of your life, old friend.
