SOLOMON KAHN    07/11/77—01/31/12

January 31st begins the eleventh year Solomon can no longer hug us or play music for us. 

That I will not hear his voice on the phone. Yet he is still with many of us very often. That’s Solomon. The following is from your memorial, Solomon, when I was determine to tell stories that would make us smile. Here they are.

April 1, 2012 we gather to celebrate Solomon’s life and wish him God-Speed into his new adventures beyond this physical life. So many friends and family are filling Angelico Hall, at Dominican in San Rafael. Here I offer my speech, and will celebrate with a gorgeous musical tribute by the two Terrys – Terry Riley on piano, and Solomon’s Terry-Dad, Terry Haggerty on guitar. These two musical masters had never played together before this tribute to Solomon. [Imagine the music!]

When Shabda and I were in our late twenties we met Joe and Guin Miller. These amazing elders were real Godparents. They led a walk in Golden Gate Park every week. On holidays there were sometimes more than a hundred people walking from the Hall of Flowers to the ocean. I used to meet with Guin and a group of young women she invited to her apartment above the Theosophical Lodge in SF – some of you have been there – and she would play the piano for us, then we would talk and eat cake. Once I got up the courage to ask her about how it really was for her to have lost her son in the war. Her boy and Shabda had the same birthday. She was quiet for a minute, then said, He’s still with me. She was smiling. 

I didn’t get it. I thought she was hiding some terrible grief. Now I understand.

When Solomon turned eleven, and my Uncle Willy, Senator Bill Proxmire had served in the Senate for 29 years, Shabda, Solomon, and I went to Washington DC for a visit. Imagine this: Solomon and his father sitting in the Senate dining room each dressed in suit and tie. The great liberal Teddy Kennedy stopped by the table. So did extremely conservative Jessie Helms, who nodded to us and turned to Solomon – who somehow managed to really look like a small-sized politician – and said, “Well, you look like a fine young man,” then reached out and shook Solomon’s hand. Solomon had the uncanny ability to be at the energetic pitch, and fit in wherever he found himself. After he left, my uncle leaned toward his great nephew and said: “He’s one of the bad guys!”

What a lucky mother I am to be invited to Burningman with both Ammon and Solomon 5 times! In 2003, Ean Golden took me and my good friend Wendy Carlisle in the open top bus where he DJ’d the night-time cruise. Way out on the playa stood a gigantic Steel frame that held five rectangular rock slabs – each supporting ten or more people – that swung gently from chains.

 That evening a sizable crowd filled the space below. As our bus slowly approached that lit-up scene we heard the beats, tum tum tum, tum, then the sound of Solomon’s music over an enormous speaker system grew louder. There he was, at the turntable, spinning in the portable playa DJ studio, making people happy. What a party! How many moms get to do that?

He took me to see the film SCRATCH, when it first came out. He explained about the DJ genre and the legendary Philippine scratch-masters.

So when he gave me a photo of himself with Mix-Master Mike at the Warriors game, I framed it and put it on the wall. A few months later we had our house painted, and a surly painter stopped in his tracks and asked me, who is the guy with Mix-Master Mike? That’s my son, I told him. I wish you’d seen his face! He was really really nice to me for the rest of the job.

Then there was Las Vegas. He got me compt’d at a pool-side room in the Hard Rock Hotel, where he and Chris Clouse played a dinner set on Thursdays. At One AM he was to play the Taboo Room in the MGM Grande. I had my friend Palden with me and we took a cab. The lobby is enormous. There was a pounding beat, and a long line to get in. I addressed the bored looking Hollywood-type who held a clip board at the door. I’m DJ Solomon’s Mom! I shouted. He looked at me deadpan, took in the dreads, my age, my clothing. Then he said: Well, that’s a first!  And stamped my hand and hers. We went in and waited for Solomon. Soon, I saw him. He arrived and connected his computer to the sound system and began, no introduction, and no more than 6 seconds between the exiting DJ’s last tune and his first––– all without slowing down the momentum – I understood.

DJ Solomon would be just fine doing what he did. He was a consummate professional, a star.

When Solomon cruised, he often took me with him, now it’s my turn to take him along. I recently wrote down these words:

Take me with you, Mom, into your life, and what you do. Let me bring the balance and glide of boarding into the continual challenge of your everyday life. And please keep loving Nicole…..        Thank you.  <>  <>  <>

Solomon’s Birthday with LOVE July 11, 2022

My love for you is in everything you do….” These words came as a strong message to me from you, Solomon. I received them soon after I heard that you had died in a car crash in Bangkok, January 31, 2012. It feels like you are with me, not somewhere else, both then and now. You had a full-to-the-brim life in your 34 years.  Knowing this has supported me greatly, allowing grief to feel less hurtful. You would be 45 today. I’m celebrating your life right here.

Happy Birthday Solomon

Here is a poem I wrote in the early 1990s

Lines That Bind                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

When Solomon was twelve

he mentioned one night over spaghetti 

that he found out mediocre was a real word.

Someone not in our family had used it.

He always thought his Dad made it up.

Ammon was three

when we lived on the fault line in Olema.

We walked the woodpecker trail

in the National Seashore,

where the sign in the meadow read:

This is where the farmer’s cow 

fell into a crack in the 1906 earthquake.

The only thing left above ground was the tail.

My son looked looked up at me

eyes stretched wide.

“Where do you go when you die, Mom?”

I lived with this question,

felt the bright metal of it

crack and join at high temperature,

made a small book of words and drawings

of butterfly cocoons, apple trees, and 

a Scottish bagpiper lying in a coffin.

            Some day I’ll go to Alaska

            for the thaw.

            I’ll stand by a big frozen river and listen

            as the ice breaks up, rumbling, scraping,

            feel the world let go.  <>  <>  <>

Here are some email clips  Solomon sent us. 

He sent a photo of an eagle further away than this picture, a blurry one he took with his cell phone to his dad with this message: “I think I’m picking up the slack in the bird department while you, Dad are out of the country. Here are some shots of a Bald Eagle that was nested right next to our houseboat in Shasta last week. If you zoom in on the pic you can get a very good look at him. After seeing him in person it’s no wonder we chose this bird as our national mascot…  🙂 ”  

Another email note he sent us when he was interpreting Spanish/English on a snow board trip to CHILE:
“So I gotta be really quick. Gotta go Chillian today with the tour. Am working all this week, riding (snowboard) every day, having a blast. I am just in Santiago for this morning. I had a crazy night last night dj-ing then stayed up most of the night in a club where Pablo Neruda used to read his poetry… Super bueno.  Mom, can you let me know your Burningman plans?
Much Love, your son in Chillyyyyyyy….”
SnowBoarding in Chile

A birthday invitiation 2008:

“Hello Family….I am extending an invite to our wonderful family for a day of boating/birthday celebration as I bring in the 31st year of my time on our little rock. We thought it would be fun to have everyone go out on a Sunday, as Sundays seem to work pretty well for everyone. The boat is located in Tracy about an hour from SF…picnic lunch. Any questions? Hope you all can make it. Much Love, Solomon”

Boating Birthday
Here goes
Yes! YES!!

Your friends are thinking of you today, Solomon and you are with us taking us into snow, waves and always, the best music. We all miss and love you!

Solomon 1/31/12 — It’s been Ten Years…

I’ll be seeing you…in all the old familiar places 
That this heart of mine embraces all day thru
I’ll find you in the morning sun and when the night is new.
I’ll be looking at the moon—but I’ll be seeing you.  
Song 1938 I’ll be Seeing You

the look of him /the beauty of the man
is his comings and /his goings…
his place is never taken…
which is  /the kind of man he is                
—Lucille Clifton  the kind of man he is

DJ Solomon, by Oona Haggerty (Solomon’s niece)

Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof
(Because I’m happy)
Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth
—Pharell Williams

Your absence has gone through me 
like thread through a needle 
Everything I do is stitched with its color    
—W.S. Merwin

Sending you love and gratitude Solomon. For your heart, wisdom and full life.

Solomon Samuel Kahn 7/11/77 — 12/31/12

DJ Solomon on his birthday 2021

Solomon was born on July 11, 1977, and left us on January 31, 2012. He would be 44 on this birthday. For all who still feel a loving connection I offer a short tribute to Solomon as DJ SOLOMON, the way he offered music to so very many friends and how we moved and grooved in his inspired musical mixtures. Thanks to Solomon’s brother Ammon for making this short clip. You are with us Solomon!

Celebrating Solomon—nine years 1/31/12

January 31 our son Solomon lost his life in a car accident in Bangkok Thailand. Every year at this time I write to you Solomon, to share some beautiful moments of your life and celebrate what you brought to Shabda and me, Nicole, Ammon and his family—and all your cousins, friends, sports and music fans and long-time-ago schoolmates. 

Dear Solomon, I was thinking about you and music, and Pharrell Williams makes me smile and feel like moving, like I did to your DJ music awhile ago…when I listen to his song from 2013  – HAPPY —

Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof
(Because I’m happy)
Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth
(Because I’m happy)
Clap along if you know what happiness is to you
(Because I’m happy)
Clap along if you feel like that’s what you wanna do…

Solomon, Nicole, Ammon, Laura

LAS VEGAS! According to the pictures it was March 27, 2007 that my friend Palden and I flew to Las Vegas to hear you make music and relax at the Hard Rock Café. You set it up so we were VIP’s with a nice room overlooking pools and a waterfall. Once a week you and Chris Clouse played in an outside restaurant – Hard Rock Cafe – there inthe dinner hours. We got in a taxi just before 10. “From 10 pm until way late”  
DJ Solomon was the music for STUDIO 54 at the Las Vegas MGM GRANDE

There was a trail of velvet ropes holding people who wanted to enter, between the lobby entrance and Studio 54. We went to the crowded club doorway. Inside the music pounded.  A Hollywood type doorman looked doubtfully at the two women who were clearly over 40… “I’m the DJ’s mom,” I said. He looked amazed, surprised as he’d been all night. “Well, that’s a first!” he laughed and stamped our wrists.  Inside it was full out. Loud and peaking—both the energy and the music. After about 5 minutes, with us pressing our way into the second room, past a very small DJ booth, the music stopped. It was less that 60 seconds before Solomon plugged in and turned up the volume on his set. The dancers and arm wavers picked up and went with it, as if he didn’t miss a beat. I turned to Palden and said, “tonight I know that Solomon can do this full time as long as he wants. He’s a pro.”

None of us can forget your passion for boarding—water, snow— You called yourself an adrenalin junkie, loved speeding in your car, on your bike —OOoooo— the beauty of acceleration! This from friend Leila Burrows:

Leila and William

Leila writes me: Every year at this time I find myself remembering Solomon. Our friendship was quick and fast in large part because among other things we shared three loves : Water sports, Snow sports and Nicole…  Solomon, I’m sorry my husband Brendan and son William never got the chance to know you. When I learned our baby was a boy, I thought, wonderful! The chance to raise a good man. You were a good man. Although William will never get to shred or go boating with you, we will raise him to be like you: kind, inclusive, generous and fun. We will play in the snow and not take for granted what a gift it is to be alive. I love you, I miss you, I thank you. ❤️  Leila

Your nieces have become amazing girls as the photos show. Maeve was in utero 9 years ago, but Oona had a ride on your shoulders in December 2011. Wish you were here to be with them and teach them a few of your best tricks in the sports world and on the music boards.

Solomon and Oona 2011

Oona and Maeve, 2020
I miss you too, Sweetie!
Solo and his Dad Shabda at Lake Tahoe

In this difficult time of the Covid Pandemic I am glad you don’t have to worry about how the world of music can support you. (Although I’m sure you and Nicole would have a plan!). Live music played in concert halls, City Hall, clubs and outdoor places is so much better than on zoom. I’m wishing you could see the branches with plump green avocados in the garden. Most amazing of all is the banana tree with clusters of new bananas here in Terra Linda! I’ve never seen either fruit in Marin County.

Solomon, DJ for the Warriors!

We miss you and appreciate all our great memories when this time rolls around each year. Know you are with us— KNOW I take you with me and share you with all the many friends who love you and will read this.

Remembering These Early Women

Our mother ancestors hold the knowledge of the womb of love and compassion. Combining history’s stories with poetry allows me to attune to a communicated essence carried and shared in the tradition of Lucille Clifton who wrote a poem on Joan of Arc: to joan, …did you never wonder/ oh fantastical joan/ did you never cry in the sun’s face/ unreal unreal?

Another favorite poem is W.S. Merwin’s Odysseus: Always the setting forth was the same,/ Same sea, same dangers waiting for him/ As though he had got nowhere but older.

Traveling with Joan and Odysseus, the creation of inner cinema of lives that become known, felt more deeply— continues to have tremendous appeal to me. After joining Moroccan Sufi women in chanting (zikr) more than 20 years ago, I began to read the stories of the women in their line of ancestors, back to Prophet Muhammad. I felt their strength and influence on the man who guided the birth of Islam long ago. They are still with us, here today.

From my book: Fatima’s Touch, pp. 43, 44…


It was a hot day. Umm Ayman looked in the window and saw Fatima (daughter of Muhammad) asleep, with the millstone spinning, the cradle holding Husayn rocking itself, and a hand raised in praise. She went to the Prophet and told him what she saw. She asked him, “Who was grinding, rocking, praising?” He laughed and told her the names of three angels.Husayn holds the tender place in the story, as the son constantly remembered in Shia history, assassinated decades later in the massacre at Karbala. Umm Ayman was the servant of Amina, mother of the Prophet. She assisted in the birth of Muhammad and years later—his children. She was the rock of the family.

While She Sleeps

One grinds. One praises God. One rocks Husayn.

Uplifted gesture in the air—what’s this?

Two angels brought by Gabriel—one mills

the grain for Fatima, one gestures praise.

You see it and you don’t. Not flesh and blood,

nor anything like that. Transparent hands.

Who rocks Husayn? What fingertips can nudge

The cradle? In the room his mother sleeps,

exhausted, fasting, ripe for angel aid.

Her grindstone turns, as if it were a top

and bread could make itself. Who rocks Husayn?

A touch so light, the child smiles in his sleep.

The outside world is still, the stems of thoughts

curl tucked inside, while Gabriel bends down

to stroke his cheek, his heart-shaped face. Don’t ask

Who rocks Husayn, that little cup of love.

Encyclopedia of Fatima, 17:119, 120. See also Muslin, The English Translations, 4, #1701. Form iambic pentameter — blank verse.

And from my book Untold, A History of the Wives of Prophet Muhammad this poem:

Wife of the Prophet

It is the way for the Wife of the Prophet
not to turn her back on us. After 
she notices we are looking to her, she opens the door 
and beckons us in. But we are just watchers,
wanting to be close-up from a distance. We stare
at one young wife, leaning forward, her chin
on Muhammad’s shoulder, her fingers
squeezing his arm while the Abyssinian woman
dances. Another wife gives Muhammad
a turn of phrase to calm a thousand 
disobedient men. We notice the well-shaped 
mouth, the strong white teeth,
her damp hands on a towel. A future wife
stands looking at Muhammad’s open face.
We hear her gasp and understand. She’s modest. Still,
we can’t stop looking. Close details
make each wife’s bustling seem intimate,
but not too real. We wonder what we’d see
inside. There might be holy striving, 
talk of paradise, a questioning remark,
a judgment. We may never know,
although there may be truth there
that we need, some understanding 
from the source; some word of how it was
before something startled the world
into thinking — us and them.[i]

[i] End notes: There is a hadith that  Aisha, watched the dancers in the Mosque, illustrating how relaxed Muhammad was with spontaneous expression. The source is the Alim on CD-ROM, narrator al-Tirmidhi, Aisha hadith, #1565. The other references are to his wives, Umm Salama (at Hudaybiyya) and Zaynab.

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After Untold and Fatima’s Touch, I continue to write about women of history. Most recent is Rabia al’Adawiyya of Basra, the 8th century Sufi woman seen as a saint by many in the Middle East.

What did Rabia Wear?                                                                                                    

Rabia, I can’t help it. I’m accustomed to bring home the landscape, an Islamic culture like something out of the Yunus Emre Netflix series from Turkey, with its dirt roads, people walking with mules and hand carts, a minaret with the call to prayer. It’s hot and damp in Basra. Palm fronds will shelter as a roof. What are you are wearing as you walk in longing for God? Sandals in the mud, and a layer or two. Not dirty, but pale cloth, a gauzy veil scrubbed in well water then set to dry on a line near the door. The long sleeved tunic is woven to last, a coarse cotton. I think you were gifted with used tunics from a devoted friend or two. Here’s beautiful fabric, say pale green, with the woven words of God almost worn out on the sleeves. The scribes leave you clothed in nothing but words, but that’s just their way to show how Holy you are. Along with this: robed in the quintessence of pain…  Pain? I want to see the fabric move as you walk, haul water, gather dates, or drape it on a hook before bed—when you slip into something else, a lighter covering. As a woman, I like the practical side of bringing you forward twelve-hundred years or so. How you look with an old cat in your lap.

Writing Thru the Fires

No smoke coming through the screen or the keyboard, just evidence of smoke in green circles turning to yellow, then orange and finally red, on the AIR NOW page or my cellphone. Red—like the sun has been lately. full orange moon. Outside we are mostly in a barbecue setting, and I have two #95 masks I wear at the same time, as I had lung problems not so long ago and like to take an hour outside walk.

How do we cope with knowing that nearby beautiful trees and hillsides and small animals have flames and hot air all around? I don’t know. I feel gratitude from time to time. I am grateful for my life. I have been cooking blueberry cobbler and writing. I move the air purifier machine from room to room, and sing on Zoom with my husband, Shabda. Here is a poem to share.

Fire Flowers by Emily Pauline Johnson 
    [Tekahionwake—her native America name]

And only where the forest fires have sped, 
Scorching relentlessly the cool north lands, 
A sweet wild flower lifts its purple head, 
And, like some gentle spirit sorrow-fed, 
It hides the scars with almost human hands. 

And only to the heart that knows of grief, 
Of desolating fire, of human pain, 
There comes some purifying sweet belief, 
Some fellow-feeling beautiful, if brief. 
And life revives, and blossoms once again 

This poet had an English mother and her father was a Mohawk chief. They lived in Ontario. She was born in 1861. What kind of life would that have been?

May you who are reading this have full breath, a comfortable house to live in, food on the table and friends to give support when you need it.

Here are some walking pics to make a record of this strange masked time.

Solomon would be 43 on July 11

July eleven  has that special ring to it with the sound of Solomon’s laugh and the twinkle in his eye.  Just when I feel he is far away, something happens to remind me—and same for many of his friends—that he is ever nearby. This year I took a pair of his laced shoes to Nicole’s house to celebrate his day of passing 8 years ago. After dinner I went to the Unitarian Church on Franklin in SF for the second part of the Ram Das memorial. After admiring my friend Trudy’s sparkly black lace-up shoes, I was gifted with them. Hmmmm,

Thanks Solomon! So much has happened in the last months. Politically I can quote Jon Stewart who said, “Usually it’s the president who ages during his term, today it is the country that is aging…” So here is a happy photo of Solomon and Nicole who flew to Chicago on the eve of Obama’s first election. When we were all much younger. Joy is in the air.

Happy earthly birthday and blessings on your Sacred Journey of love and service.You remain in our hearts! All of us who knew and love you.

Mama Tamam and Papa Shabda


Solomon: his music and his words


Hollye pics 4-03 052.jpeg

Solomon ~ Gone 8 years on January 31:    7/11/77 – 01/31-12

Shabda just landed this morning in Delhi, India after 16 hours flying from SF. It’s that time of year. Looking thru my old E-mails from Solomon, I find his writings from India. One E-mail is from 21 years ago:

Friday, February 5, 1999 2:42 am

Mom, I actually found a cyber café in Delhi, imagine that… All is well here. We have been in Delhi almost a week with a packed schedule. I am attending some music classes, hanging out with Dad a lot and enjoying the people and wonderful sights and sounds, tastes, smells. He sang a beautiful concert yesterday, and this morning for Delhi University Music Department and Inayat Khan’s URS too. He sang with Terry (Riley) and Samiola. Filming (for a movie on Guruji) is going well, and Terry is very happy with what I have filmed so far… anyway maybe I have a future in documentary filming, but who knows.

DiggiPalaceGroup.jpeg Solomon, Shabda and Terry in India 1999

I am really psyched to get south to warmth and the parties and I’ve been hearing cool things about Goa guess we’ll see. The musicians I’m going to travel with are super cool. We will get to jam while we hang out at the beach…

Dad sends his love. Take care, much love, Solomon

♥♥<> In 2008 Solomon went with Nicole to India and they were there in Mumbai during the Barsi, an annual day-and-night yearly homage to Alla Rakha, (Abbaji), Zakir Hussain’s beloved father, famous Tabla Master who died in 2000, and helped introduce Indian music to the Western World. Solomon told us Zakir went to see him DJ at the well-known Blue Frog Club that he writes about here:

100_2027.jpeg  DJSolomon Flyer.jpeg poster from the gig in India

February 3, 2008, 1:50 pm

Just got back from day and night sessions of the Barsi—totally amazing!  We are staying in Bandra at a cool little hotel… my gig last night went VERY well, the club stayed open 45 minutes later than planned and was very busy. We didn’t get home til 3 and had to get up at 5:30 so we are a little tired and ready for a nap. Both of us are having a wonderful time.  I will send pix soon,  Much love, Solomon and Nicole


Ean Golden and Solomon made music together.

Hollye pics 4-03 099.jpeg

Ean has joined me this year for the time around Solomon’s passing and is offering some of their combined music as GoldenSol. Here is the best version of Papa Was a Rolling Stone I’ve ever heard—including The Temptations tune. YES!

This from Ean — Solomon and I met in 1999, when a local promoter asked him to scratch over my DJ set at a club called the “Blind Tiger” in the China Town district of San Francisco. We quickly became close friends and spent the following 10 years making a lot of music and djing in many clubs together as a duo called GoldenSol. Two recordings stand out in particular as I reflect on this special anniversary of his passing:

1. Papa Was a Rolling Stone (GoldenSol Remix)

This bootleg remix released in 2002 and became quite popular in underground record stores. We sold several thousand copies of the 12” Vinyl and often heard it played in clubs around the bay area.

2. Keeps Me Movin’ (Radio Edit)

One of our first original songs, this soulful number featured a promising new singer named Latoya London who would go on to place 4th in American idol season 4 and have a very solid R&B career.

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Ending this time with Solomon with some photos.  Solomon, we miss you and love  you! Thanks for all you have given us that keeps on giving over the years. Although you are not with us in the same way you were back then, you are with us—all of us who love you!♥♥





Solomon’s 42nd birthday 7/11/77-1/30/12

On July 11 Solomon would have turned 42

This time every year (the last 7) I feel Solomon draw closer, with the luminous memories, with a mist of grief —both together. Writing this tribute brings him near for a while, sparking memories of the 34 years we shared—mother and son.


Wendell Berry Sabbaths 1999

I dream of a quiet man

Who explains nothing and defends

Nothing, but only knows

Where the rarest wildflowers

Are blooming, and who goes,

And finds that he is smiling

Not by his own will.


A quiet man, his rarest wildflower music as a DJ, introduces Stevie Wonder at the Salesforce Celebration and plays in front of City Hall at The Black and White Ball in San Francisco, who goes——around the racetrack in his blue Lotus sportscar, down the mountain on his  snowboard (having been dropped on a high ridge by helicopter)—smiling—to Burningman, Sufi Camp, Chile and Morocco, Germany, Peru, India…

salesforce SW &amp; Solomon event          solo logo.jpeg

Some emails from Solomon: note to his grandmother—Shabda’s mom Ilse (shown below):   Monday July 1, 2000     Omi,  Happy birthday from your grandson in South America. A am having wonderful adventures in Peru with Ammon. We got to go to Machu Pichu, one of the most incredible historic wonders I have ever seen… I wish you a happy and healthy birthday and a joyful and fulfilling year to come. Much love, Your Grandson Solomon ♥

200205122157176.jpegOmi, Solomon and Shabda

Friday June 28, 2000    Hi Mom,  I just had a super long day of seeing all of these ruins which I am now convinced were built by aliens. That’s what everyone says about this place and I thought it was a load of crap until I saw 120 ton rocks that have been carved perfectly to fit into this intricate stonewall work… I actually got to DJ last night at this spot. Now I can add Cuzco, Peru to the places I have played. Much love and I will write soon, Solomon ♣

Family boating… June 30, 2008  Hello family,  I am extending an invite to our wonderful family for a day of boating/birthday celebration as I bring in the 31styear of my time on our little rock.  We thought it would be fun to have everyone go out on a Sunday. The boat is located in Tracy, about an hour from SF. We will plan on a picnic lunch…Any questions?  Hope you all can make it! Much love, Solomon ♥

n680391970_2358501_3769370.jpg  boat3.jpegLet’s say you were asking me ♦ What’s up? ♦  I’ll write you back here and now.

Dearest Solomon,
You’ll be glad to know I’m getting healthy after a long-time bacterial infection and a difficult period of very low energy. My lung doc is pleased with my slow bounce-back. I’m going to Mendocino Sufi Camp this week. Dad is in charge this summer, and Ammon, Laura and the girls as well as Nicole will be there. Nicole is a very popular yoga teacher. She will be there with Samantha (now 3½) and Varvara to help. Ammon will DJ Thursday night, as you used to do often in those years.

IMG_0449.jpeg Mendocino — Naomi, Solomon, Nicole, Varvara, Jason, Shabda, and Jamilah

June 8th we had a pool party like in the old days. It was a birthday party with 3 cakes: Nicole and Ryan (May 30) Maeve (June 1) and me (June 14).  Naomi was there pregnant. She is due with #3 child this summer. Lots of Nicole and Ryan’s friends were there. Chris Clouse was at the party. Ean has been out of town most of the time these days, Runni and Sasha and the kids are in Israel as Jeannie hasn’t been well. I talked with Christian Heath who tried but couldn’t come to a memorial day dedicated to you the end of January. Jason Rezaian and I have been in Email touch. He is back at the Washington Post.  Leila Burrows is recently married and lives up by Lake Tahoe.

IMG_6534.jpegMinhoi, Nikolai, Tamam, Shabda, Naomi,and Solomon

The nearly eleven-hundred ft. tall Salesforce Tower in SF makes the city look different from when you were living there.  The old Sears store a few blocks away at Northgate may become a Costco. Our RV is twenty-three years old. An antique! We still drive it to Mendocino once a year. It’s lucky you don’t have to deal with the politics our country is stuck with. We are about as far from Obama’s view as anyone could imagine. Ammon is co-founder and VP at Formation, which is becoming quite large and promising, an (AI) Artificial Intelligence design company.  Oona and Laura took part in a race around Lake Merrit and Maeve is a fashionista and quite an artist.

IMG_5601.jpeg      IMG_9545.jpeg
Oona (almost 10)  and Maeve (7) your adorable nieces

Nic and Sam.jpegNicole and Samantha at the beach in SF

The family and friends still feel you are with us, but we miss the adventures you took us on. I miss your smile and humor. Your enthusiasm. Your fantastic music.
Your Dad joins me in sending you love and more love…endless love, Mom

Ammon&SoloBeach'83.jpeg  boys at Biancas.jpgSolomon and Ammon at Lake Tahoe         at Burningman — both were DJ’ing there 

P1010667.jpg    P0002666.jpeg          Django  and Solomon – cousins                       Solomon and Rah (Runni) – cousins

Family2005.jpg         Ammon, Laura, Nicole, Solomon, Tamam and Shabda

IMG_5800.jpegSubhana Ansari cultivates beautiful “Day Lillies.”  SOLOMON SUNRISE  is this flower she named for Solomon. It blooms at the end of June every year, before his birthday. Continue reading