This week, on July 3, marks one year since Jim died. The Plews-Ogan family, including Rowan, Erin’s and Will’s spouses—Hal and Monika—and Monika’s sister Shallu, will be gathering for the week together. One of the ways we will be remembering Jim/Dad/Granddad is by playing Rowan the recordings of children’s books that Jim and Peggy read for Rowan before he was born and before Jim lost his voice. We are so grateful to all of you in this Hummingbird community for buoying us with love and for the kindness you continue to share out there wherever you are. We’d love for anyone who feels so moved to share a story about Jim or bits of wisdom he shared with you by commenting on this post throughout this week.
Much love to all of you, the Plews-Ogan family
Sorting files and papers just a few days ago, I came across a postcard from Jim dated 27 November ’19. In it he quoted/paraphrased a New Zealand Prayer Book.
It read, in part, “God of the present moment, bring us courage to endure what cannot be avoided, for your will is health and wholeness, you are God, and we need you.”
As we remember Jim with love and give thanks to God for Jim’s amazing and endless love, may we also remember Jim’s wisdom that God’s will for us is health and wholeness, and that God will give us courage abundantly! Thank you, Jim!
I will always remember Jim’s Turbocharged Living Tool, which I am now using to remind patients and families that the most important parts of who they are cannot be touched by ALS. Proud to be collaborating with Hummingbird to study the effect of this Tool on hope scores, and the effect of boosting hope on ALS progression.
I have recently been working on a project with a pediatric dentist who specializes in working with children with special needs. She was talking about the value she finds in looking at what they can do and accomplish as opposed to thinking about their limitations. For some reason, I immediately thought about Jim, his special relationship with Charlie, and how Jim enlisted the BME students to create him a special “big wheel” that allowed him to play outside with the other kids. I ended up finding the video link and sharing it with her. It brought us both tremendous joy in the moment.
I remember not one story about Jim, but the legacy and love that surrounded him during the time I knew him. I met Jim and Peggy about one year before Jim died. Jim still had his voice, he was still walking, talking, and traveling, but the ALS was progressing rapidly. The disease took everything from him in the short period of time that I knew him. Despite the devastation and cruelty of the disease, Jim remained loving, kind, compassionate, and peaceful. I got to know him well through the words that he wrote for his blog—words I had the honor of reading and editing to share with the wider community on the website and blog for the Hummingbird Fund. Jim continued his contemplative practice—a practice that inspired and continues to inspire my own meditative practice today. He continued to soak in the love, comfort, and companionship of his family, friends, and community. He continued to share wisdom, including the Turbocharged Living Tool, a project that so perfectly illustrates Jim’s legacy of positivity and resilience amidst adversity. I think about Jim often. Meeting him changed my life. Meeting his family shifted the course of my career. I will forever be changed for the better because of knowing Jim and taking some of the lessons I learned from watching him into my own life. The unique part of this is that I am not at all unique. Everyone who met Jim feels similarly—his love and legacy permeate the lives of all who knew him. He will live on through his family, through his community, through our stories and our memories of him.
So nice to be prompted to remember parties at our house and how much laughter would emanate from the table where Jim sat…always the fun table…if you weren’t sitting there, you wished you were.
I was Jimmy’s (that is who he will always be to me) first friend. We shared cribs and baths together before either of us even had matching siblings. Our mothers were college roommates and maids of honor at each of their weddings; then moved on to share as newlyweds what was seemingly the smallest cottage bungalow imaginable. Our families went camping together. We pulled leaches off each other’s legs Jimmy learned to play music first on my grandmothers piano. My father was his school principal. I created his and Peg’s wedding flowers. Later his mother was my de facto maid of honor. Though our adult lives lead us down different paths; our mothers kept us apprised of each other’s lives. We connected once more at an event he hosted in May just before he died. I was so very grateful to have had that one last time with my very first friend. And as if to bring our lives full circle; Jimmy passed away on my first grandchild’s birthday. I will continue now to think of him also as her guardian angel.
So many memories! A favorite is when I shared with him that I had recently heard sounds of distress from our daughter’s room and discovered her underneath her covers and hanging upside down at the end of her bed. I thought she was trying to be funny, but she really couldn’t figure out which way was up.
Dr. Ogan gasped. “The same thing happened to me as a child! I had totally forgotten about that!”
I laughed and was prepared to move on when he said, “Hold on, can we discuss this some more?” The sudden rush back to a forgotten memory required more processing time. This memory represents so much: I always felt well cared for with Dr. Ogan, but our relationship extended past the basic doctor-parent-child triad. Dr. Ogan not only wanted to know his patients and families on a personal level, but he shared parts of his own personal life as well. I looked forward to our visits and discussions. I hear his voice often sharing stories and guidance with me. He is deeply missed.
I remember Jim as being calm and loving, funny and practical.
I appreciated his moral courage to go where he was needed, rather than just where he’d be comfortable. I marveled at the overseas clinical adventures embraced by both Jim and Peggy, providing health care in underserved areas. I celebrate how he turned his illness into a way to be of service to others.
Although I knew Jim and Peggy Plews-Ogan as members of St Paul’s, unfortunately I didn’t begin to really know them ( or their wonderful family) until I learned of Jim’s diagnosis of ALS and of his incredible, inspiring blog through which he shared this most challenging journey.
And while I wanted to be supportive and help in whatever way I could, I too often felt that all I had to offer was an awkward sharing of a poem, a comment, a related experience… to which Jim always responded with a “Thank you”, regardless of how “off base” I might have been. And time and again I noted that his blog was titled “Offering Kindness” and indeed, in each spoken “Thank you” I felt most strongly Jim’s kindness.
( note: 2nd attempt to post – just not good at technology -sorry if repeated)
I knew Jim and Peggy as members of St Paul’s but unfortunately did not begin to get to really know them until learning of Jim’s diagnosis of ALS and his incredible, inspiring blog.
I wanted to offer support and help in whatever way I could. However, too often I felt that all I had offered was an awkward sharing of a poem, a comment, a related experience…. And yet, Jim always responded with a sincere “Thank you” regardless of how “off base” I might have been. And time and again I noted that his blog was titled “Offering Kindness” and indeed, with each “Thank you” I felt most strongly Jim’s kindness.
I knew Jim for just a short time, as we were advocates together for I AM ALS. I will remember him fondly for his attitude that anything is possible. Such a positive person. And recently I learned that the anniversary date of my sister’s passing from ALS (July 3, but in 2017) is the same as Jim’s. I hope they have met in the Hereafter. Hugs to all Jim’s family.
Countless times in our 47 beautiful years together when I would get overwhelmed by something Jim would say “you can do this, break it down, step by step.” I hear his voice now, and he is once again guiding me through.
I recalled how Jim led our youth choir as a teenager himself. He was the organist at 1st Presbyterian Church in South Lorain. He was a good brother but also advocated for the voices of young folks to be valued & appreciated. I think of him often when singing in church each weekend. I do feel his loving presence often in worship.
This is Jim’s sister-in-law, Bobbie Plews. I have so many DELICIOUS!! memories of Jim, because he was such a BIG person, FILLED with generosity, curiosity, creativity, compassion, courage, strength, kindness, and an incredibly infectious loving spirit. He deeply helped all of our children (my husband Price and I)—all seven of them—and now nine (almost ten) grandchildren—with his generous consultations, hours of listening, supporting, being an uncle extraordinaire with such professional and personal support. I can’t remember how many times anyone of them have said “I’m just gonna call Jim”…without me telling them they should. He embraced them so deeply, and they just knew he was the one to call.
Now to my best memories of my beloved brother-in-LIFE: It is captured so beautifully in the beautiful book called “Offering Kindness, In Jim’s Own Words” that was put together by the Hummingbird Fund and printed by PixxiBook. It is a compilation of all of Jim’s blogs, from February 3, 2018 to June 18, 2024. I have read it cover to cover at least 3 times,and pull it out often just to catch myself up with how think about things, how to process them, how to do my best at leading with kindness, serving with humor, finding hope, expressing love. I am offering this as my “best memories” of Jim because I have loved this book— because it provides me with his voice, a voice that is so inspiring, over and over again. I will financially support anyone reading this to order a copy from the Hummingbird Fund. It is a Bible to me, and there’s just no other way to say it. My love tonight to his family, my family. It is a day to read some of his blogs!!!
My friendship with Jim goes back 50 years when we were in college together – a time when the friends you choose help form the people you become. I am grateful for Jim’s influence on my life. Our families also became friends, which deepened our bonds in profound and delightful ways.
Throughout our half century together, I was continually amazed by Jim’s many and varied characteristics, talents, and gifts: smart, funny, dedicated, committed to peace, justice, and nature, adventurous, musical, athletic, a good writer, generous, persevering, grounded, compassionate, and passionate about helping others.
In the midst of my grief when Jim died, I had a strange and unexpected reaction: I found it difficult to imagine a world in which he did not live. I slowly came to realize that Jim was still very much alive in the world as he had imparted ongoing goodness and healing, joy and love with countless people over the decades. Our lives and our world are still shaped and influenced by Jim.
Jim lives on among us and particularly in his loved ones: Peggy, Erin, Hal, Rowan, William and Monika. May all who hold Jim dear experience comfort while grieving and blessings while perceiving Jim’s everlasting presence in our lives and in our world.
A memory that will always be with me from a number of years back: My wife Barbara and I came to a fundraising event for the Hummingbird Fund in its earlier period. This event was also a time when many of Jim’s patients were sharing about how much they valued him, as he had recently stopped practicing as a pediatrician. Here they all were, stepping forward, representing multiple generations, to express their genuine gratitude and reverence for the impact Jim had made in their lives. I was so inspired, as I stood by and witnessed the love given and received; and at that moment I was struck by the depth of Jim’s humility and transparency. So for me, it was an expression of the best of our humanity, that reaches toward the divine.
What a special soul…