It was a real honor to be a part of James' ceremony- the family/friend energy in the room that day was so tangible and so poignant in all it's various manifestations. I wanted to say something about it at the ceremony, but couldn't find the right words. I was especially surprised and glad to see Betty LaWhite there, who had just lost her dear Eric so recently, but of course she would want to be there. As people got up to speak I was looking out the skylight at the moving clouds over a pale sun, and it seemed as if all the light in the room was from within and without-all the same, a part of a larger whole. It seemed to be made of pure love and compassion. I hope you all are still feeling sustained by this special connection, and healing is starting to take place. I don't know how old James was, but for some reason I thought of Mozart, who died so young....I can only guess that Mozart came to mind because sometimes it seems like some people with such tremendous creative energy just have to leave a little sooner than the rest of us. Yet they leave behind a tremendous, unforgettable legacy of their being. I didn't really know James, but he seems to have been just such a person. Cindy (Crawford) friend of the family

It was a real honor to be a part of James' ceremony- the family/friend energy in the room that day was so tangible and so poignant in all it's various manifestations. I wanted to say something about it at the ceremony, but couldn't find the right words. I was especially surprised and glad to see Betty LaWhite there, who had just lost her dear Eric so recently, but of course she would want to be there. As people got up to speak I was looking out the skylight at the moving clouds over a pale sun, and it seemed as if all the light in the room was from within and without-all the same, a part of a larger whole. It seemed to be made of pure love and compassion. I hope you all are still feeling sustained by this special connection, and healing is starting to take place.

I remember a funny story Tom told about James, when J. was a little boy; he and Tom and Tom Gibson were all on the beach. After James went swimming, he asked his uncle Tom to hold a towel around him so he could change out of his wet trunks. When Tom asked why James needed a towel, as the only other person there was also a boy, James replied, "I don't want Tom (Gibson) to see the front of my behind!"

My dear family! I want to send my love to all of you this weekend as you gather in Hanover. I find myself inexorably entwined in college with a full weekend at a conference and several group projects--I wish I could join everyone for the celebration of James' life. Please accept my best wishes for a healing time together and my regrets for not being able to attend. I shall be there in spirit! All my love, Holly (who also wrote "Supper" but did not identify herself)

Linda's memories about James baking reminded me of a particular family camp at Dangerfield a few years back. Of course, as is still custom, every family unit had a designated night to prepare a supper for the rest of the menagerie, and this evening James was on duty. Being as I was distracted by other activities unrelated to cooking, I don't recall the preparation process, but I certainly remember the product: James made a sensational dish of General Tso's Chicken, as close to the gooey American-Chinese meal as one would want to get, decadent and yet distinctly homemade. I remember being completely taken by the meal (I'm certain the other components were delicious as well), amazed that such a decidedly non-homecooked food could be created in the Dangerfield kitchen at the hands of my proficient cousin.

From "Overheard at Camp" section of the 1996 Innertube Times Wendy: Well, James, did you go to Canada? James: Yes. Wendy: How was it? James: Well, it was about the same as the United States. --posted by Emily

About Town section, Innertube Times 1998: Mr. James Harrah was voted most outstanding fashion plate of the week. Mr. Harrah showed off a pair of black sateen bell-bottoms decorated with duct tape along with a matching coat, also trimmed with the silver tape that has quickly started a new fashing trend since Mr. Harrah introduced it last week. Overheard at Camp: 1998- James, staring at Wendy and Mary as they skinny-dipped: “Should I avert my eyes?” Awards: 1991: James: Longest hair and longest sleeper 1992: James: Best dessert maker

I remember how much James loved the Gerald Durrell book "My Family and Other Animals". At one particular family camp, he decided to read part of it for "sharing night". He read through it for hours during the day, I guess finding just the right part(s). Then when he read it outloud, it was so gleeful, as if he could have written it himself. I found this quote by the author: “Nothing except possibly love and death are of importance, & even the importance of death is somewhat ephemeral, as no one has yet faxed back a reliable report.” -Gerald Durrell

Although I did not have much personal contact with James in the last number of years, he actually still came into my mind quite frequently whether it was because of a group email I'd just received from him or a bit of humor I'd encountered independently that reminded me of his dry wit. Ever since I learned of James' death on Friday evening, I have been thinking about him constantly, as I'm sure every one of us has. Through the constant stream of memories and associations that have been called up in my mind over the past several days, I have been trying to think what I could offer as a memory about James. However, no single event or anecdote (although I have recalled many) recurs as often as something very general and simple that I think, to me, represents how I knew the essence of James best: the way in which he always said my name—and I'm sure many other peoples' as well. It was just that he said it with something that always resonated with me as a certain open fondness, despite the fact that we were never all that familiar with the details of each other's lives; something extremely giving; something very gentle. ---by Rosey

When Julia was 2 years old she went for 3 days to the hospital with the first signs of Nephrotic Syndrome. James was living in Boston quite a ways across town from Children's Hospital. He took a bus (or maybe several) to come visit her. I can remember looking up when he walked in and seeing his face, absolutely radiant with what must have been just pure love. He sat with Julia, showed her some stuff he had in his pack, and then she noticed his tongue was pierced. "What's that?" she asked him. He replied that it was a (what did he call it? I can't remember and don't know what they are called.) Anyway, she was completely fascinated and it became apparent she wanted to get a closer look. He generously and politely asked her, "Would you like to touch it?" Needless to say (remember she was 2) she was thrilled. I always felt it was so insightful for a young man to be able to sense what a 2-year-old girl would like. --Cammie

--by Clydie: Julian's story of the 'money transfer meeting' reminded me of one of my favorite unexpected meetings with James: it was when he was about to graduate from Hanover High, I believe, and had just completed a massive project involving music, which he had gotten put on audiocassette and I think was going to use for educational applications. I was doing errands in Hanover, walking down Main Street, when I looked up and spied James ambling slowly down the other side of the street. He was peering intently into the gutter as he made his way down the sidewalk. "James!" I hollered, and he looked up and waved, a sheepish smile playing about his lips. I crossed over to join him. "What're you doing?" I asked. "Well", he said, "Somehow the cassette of my work seems to have fallen out of my coat pocket, so I've been looking for it all along where I recently walked." He paused and glanced up and down the street. "I know it's got to be here somewhere...well, in Hanover somewhere...well, somewhere!" I'm afraid I can't recall where and when, or IF, it turned up!

While I uploaded the photos of Mary and James at Cobb Farm I was remembering James' fascination with our dog's hair. I'll explain. Bill had a husky-malamute dog with a tremendously thick coat. When the kids were visiting, Cherrystone was in the middle of a massive shedding. I would literally pull tuft after tuft of soft white and grey undercoat out of her coat. James saw me throwing this out, and decided to save it all in a large garbage bag, which he then insisted on taking home. He planned to make a sweater out of it. I have never dared ask Wendy how she felt to have her boy sent home again bringing a huge garbage bag full of dog hairs! --Cammie

I have an email from James from September 9, 2002, which includes the story Clara was asking about: Hello again, all. I've been without e-mail for a week or so, so I seem to have a wealth of information to impart. Recently I took Abner to get his blood drawn for a few tests that his neurologist wanted (I don't think I'll ever quite get over the fact that my dog has his very own neurologist). Along the way, I stopped at a store to return something I had bought and didn't need. I tied Abner up outside, which, ironically, I virtually never do (this is perhaps the second time I've done that since I've had him), but since I was literally only going to be a couple of minutes, I thought it would be fine. However, after the two minutes had elapsed (I timed it), I went out to discover that Abner was gone, leash and all. Needless to say, I was horrified. As I was desperately running around in circles, someone came running up to me to say that a woman had taken Abner to the pet store across the street, which also served as an animal shelter. So, I rushed over to the pet store to discover Abner (looking very unhappy) in the arms of this woman, who apparently had assumed he was a stray. I thought (and still think) that this was a very strange assumption to make, seeing as Abner had a leash and a collar and several tags with my contact information on them, and was tied to a lamp-post; had I come across Abner, I would have at least waited more than two minutes to see if his owner came back. The woman, upon seeing me, launched into a little tirade about how I was mistreating Abner, I couldn't take care of him, bla bla, and THEN she asked me if I had a place to live. Anyway, in the state I was in, I was not inclined to be reasonable, and so I began spewing profanity at her; in-between such statements, I informed her that I DID, in fact, have a place to live, and that I had just spent $3,000 in medical bills on Abner, and that I couldn't see how, in the face of that, she could accuse me of 'not taking care' of Abner. She retaliated by saying that she didn't believe I had really spent that much, at which point I invited her to talk to the animal hospital herself; I invited her to do some less dainty things as well. Needless to say, I made quite the scene in the pet store, and left feeling very, very embarassed. The woman was reluctant to relinquish Abner, however, and I was very scared. The pet store employees, however, were more or less on my side, which was nice. I still am rather baffled at the woman's behavior, however; I can't imagine how someone can justify just wandering off with other people's pets. It reminds me of a time when I was waiting for the bus with Daphne (Courtney's chihuahua) and a young woman, apparently irritated by Daphne's barking, threw a cup of water on us. Anyway, I eventually extricated myself and Abner from the situation, and he successfully made it to the vet to get his blood drawn; he was very happy to get home that day. Abner has been getting somewhat worse as I've been decreasing the dose of his steroids; as a result, his neurologist wants to put him on another medication, which she describes as a 'chemotheraputic.' This medication is apparently very effective in treating this condition; however, it can have the potentially very serious side effect of suppressing the immune system. If this happens, Abner could be vulnerable to all sorts of secondary infections, which could easily kill him. However, if I do nothing, he could die anyway; the condition that he has could easily be life-threatening if it spreads from his spinal cord to his brain, to say nothing of the discomfort he would experience. I still have a couple of days to really decide, as the medication, due to his tiny body weight, has to be prepared for his especial benefit at some sort of specialty pharmacy; however, I've really already made up my mind to put him on it. The neurologist feels that, despite the risk, it's the best thing to do. I guess, though, that I'm looking for some reassurance that I'm doing the right thing, or at least the best possible thing I could do given the situation. I'm terribly nervous about putting him on such a tricky medicine, but I'm equally nervous about NOT putting him on it. Of course, I wish that this hadn't happened at all, but given that it has, I would appreciate any thoughts anybody has to offer! :) Love, James

Alas, my memories of James cover only the last 20 years, and only from family camps that we were both attending. But that didn’t hinder me from seeing through his shyness with me, right into his sensitive and loving heart. When I think of James, I see him holding Abner. The tenderness and attentiveness James shared with Abner always plucked my heart strings. My favorite memory is when Abner’s medication bills loomed so large that James chose to trade in his smoking habit to support his beloved friend. What a gift they both received! I would love to hear from someone if they can provide more details around a story James told. It involved a lady judging James’ outer appearance as he held Abner. All she could see were his tattoos, piercings, chains and hair color, clearly proving to herself that James was certainly a dog abuser. Little did she know what we all know. (I am so glad Abner and Mary found each other!) -Clara

When Abner was having health issues, I was living in Watertown. In August 2002, James sent me this email: hey julian. i wanted to ask you if by any chance I could borrow like $100 for a week (until next friday)... abner got pretty sick and i've had various vet bills which have left me a little bit strapped for cash until my next payday. if not, that's cool, but i wanted to ask. you can get in touch with me through this e-mail address or at xxx-xxx-xxxx. talk to you later... I called him and said he could borrow the money. Watertown is a few miles from Boston (it's beyond Cambridge), so we had to figure out how to meet up. I think Marisa and I were headed up to Sunapee that weekend, so James suggested that if we took 93 up from the city instead of getting on 95, that he could meet us right on our way. So the plan was he would be waiting right where we were about to get on the highway. This ended up being near the North End and the old exit for the airport, underneath the highway on some little traveled connection. We got there and there was James waiting on the side of the road. There really wasn't anywhere to park, so I pulled up to the curb (I think in Marisa's old BMW), handed James a wad of bills out the window, said goodbye, and pulled away. As we got on the highway, Marisa started laughing and said it was a good thing there were no cops around to observe what surely looked like a drug deal.

One night, James and I decided to sleep on the beach at the cape. I can't remember if there was a meteor shower that motivated the idea, or if it was simply an adventure. We walked a fair ways from the entrance, but even so, we soon realized how surprisingly busy the beach was at night - I suppose partly because of fishermen. I think the real problem though was it was raining. Eventually we gave up and headed back. Unwilling to concede defeat just yet, we then attempted to sleep in the hammock which I think was down near the driveway. I guess the hope was that the trees would provide some shelter. This didn't help much either though, so we eventually went back to the house in the middle of the night...

Remember the time at Lake Willoughby family camp when James went out in the car to get some cigarettes and decided to drive to Canada? When he came back, someone asked him why he'd driven over the border. He said he just wanted to see what Canada was like. He admitted it didn't look a whole lot different than Vermont but he seemed satisfied to have gone. (by Linda who also wrote "Baking" without knowing how to identify herself)

I have vivid pictures of James in the kitchen baking cakes, pies, and other delightful concoctions. He'd be rushing about the kitchen covered in flour, and it seemed that every pan and pot in the house was in use or sitting in the sink overflowing with some unidentifiable substance. The oven would be on full tilt and often the air in the kitchen was filled with smoke and intriguing smells. At the end of the baking session, James would triumphantly emerge with a delectable dessert to share. His pleasure in offering the fruits of his labor to the assembled company was palpable. Thank you, James, for all the treats. We'll miss them.

I don't know how to begin writing a tribute to my wonderful brother James. The past three days have been the most difficult of my life. We have had much red tape to get through in making all the necessary arrangements and fortunately we have done all that we can for now in NYC and we will be going home to Vermont tomorrow (Monday). I am feeling far more at peace today than I have since I got the news on Friday morning. We were able to see and touch James today and truly release him to God and to the direction his journey is now taking. We also talked at leisure with Oliver about the last couple of months of James' life, and what he shared with us helped both my Mom and me gain some understanding as to what James was going through, and to understand that this was in many ways a release for James. I cannot wait to see everyone. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers. All my love, Mary