The Passing of Sea Gull

My younger daughter’s favorite Frog & Toad story is, at present, Christmas Eve. Toad, you will recall from your childhood, is the timid sluggard who would always prefer to stay under the covers or at least safely indoors. But the irrepressible Frog never fails to shake him out of his sloth and into the daylight to be his companion in his many adventures. The conceit is powerful not because some of us are naturally Toads and others Frogs, but because we all of us seek to project the image of Frog outwardly to the world and hide within the fears and selfdoubts of our Toadness. Jason was my Frog since our first meeting at Oxford those many years ago, not complacent in the intellectual and material gifts life had given him, but using them for their purpose, which is to share with others. Within three months of our meeting he had moved in with my parents and youngest brother in Washington and quickly became a fixture through the summers in the family house in Edgartown. Life paths often diverge, but we instead grew closer, socially, intellectually, commercially, and eventually even more so through our families. He prompted me into adventures when the cares of life and effort of mobilizing my wife and little girls seemed insurmountable, and they too cherished his joy for life and living, the flowers, the strawberries, the pies, the wines, the horses, the osprey, the beaches and boats, the dog, and Julie, with her dances to his Victrola, her piano, her Frog to his Toad. In Christmas Eve, which would be better named Eastertide, Toad has cooked a big dinner and becomes increasing worried as the time passes and Frog does not arrive. Perhaps Frog has fallen into a deep hole, or is lost in the woods, or is being chased by a sharp-toothed animal: “My friend and I will never have another Christmas together!” Frog does arrive safe and unharmed, of course, to teach child readers faith that their parents though they be absent will always return to them. But as we grow and put childish things away and become parents ourselves, we learn that outside the storybook Frog does not always return, and we must accept that with Jason we will never have another Christmas together. Yet we have Julie and their daughter, and we must have faith, as all civilized men have and do, that we shall see him again at the last Easter, irrepressible: I AM the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die. By Daniel Oliver

Hi Julie, I am so sorry for your loss. It comes as a shock to hear this news. Please know that Jason, you and Olivia will remain in my thoughts and prayers. Jason had an energy to him that was instantly contagious. His passion for everything he did was inspiring and he was a true leader (both while at Hamilton and as an alum). Jason contributed in so many ways to the Hamilton Rowing Team, empowering it to grow into the program it is today. I was the coxswain of the NCAA crew, and I can tell you that he will always be a part of that year's story. To hear him speak about our program and to feel his enthusiasm pushed us to go faster than we ever thought possible. I remember meeting him for the first time, and hearing his stories about the early days of the program. He helped me to realize that I was a part of something bigger than myself, and recognize the history we were making. In talking today with a few other teammates, it is clear that Jason helped each of us to become better teammates and better people. His presence will be deeply missed, but we will honor his legacy by continuing the work he started. Please let me know if there's anything I (or the Friends of Hamilton Rowing) can do. Our team has always been somewhat of a family to each other, and we will always be here to offer support. Hugs, prayers and best wishes, Heather Heather Piekarz '16

How do you ever say goodbye to a life as bright and vibrant as Jason’s? Jason had a spark and an energy he carried into every project, every person, every moment. I first met Jason in 2010 as a guest to his and Julie’s 4th of July extravaganza. Almost immediately I felt like they were old friends – probably a combination of their warmth and humor, plus our shared love of obsessive 4th of July party planning. I’ll never forget his patriotic country music playlists, trips to the Dollar General store to buy excessive decorations, his ridiculous amounts of time spent manning the grill, his dramatic raising of the American flag, and Jason and Julie enthusiastically encouraging my own antics, such as American flag fruit pizza and homemade ice cream. There was never any such thing as “too much” or “over the top.” Just joy upon joy upon joy. Getting back in touch with Jason and Julie in recent years was an absolute blessing. Their love for one another seemed even stronger, even more joyful. Their creative party planning skills had translated into creative beach house decorating skills, and sail boating skills, and boat renovation skills. Late nights singing and dancing, early mornings blasting through projects. It was an energy I could never fully match, but that I absorbed as much as I could. I am chronically late for the airport, as I try to pack too much in and lose track of time, but I had nothing on Jason. He had to get me out on the mountain bike and the kayak, both, the morning that I was going to depart, as those were my two outstanding activities. Always a little more fun to cram in. With all of our laughter, activities, and wine, we also managed to have serious conversations – we all shared a similar worldview, and seemed to easily share our hearts. I know how much they wanted to grow their family, and how excited they were for little Olivia’s arrival into the world. How do you say goodbye to a life like Jason’s? We never can, of course – we have to carry his light and his energy as best we can, and most importantly, we have to do all we can to pass it on to Olivia. click here for photos

Dear Julie, Amelia and I were so sorry to receive your tragic news about Jason. We feel your pain and Stathis’s and pray you and your dear family. Amelia spoke to Stathis this morning, and you both have been on our minds, and in our prayers, all day. Here is something I penned about Jason, and I hope it adds to fond remembrances tomorrow. Jason was a fine young man, who was a pleasure to know and set a fine example as a son and partner in business to his father, Stathis, and as the head of his own family with his lovely Julie. His leadership and contributions to land preservation through the Lamington Corridor Conservancy is an important legacy. We will miss Jason for his affability, and the enthusiasm he generously shared regarding his many interests. Amelia sends her love with mine, Larry Ross

Some of the great memories that come to mind when I think of my time with Jason... *Jason’s love of the primaries in New Hampshire, collecting signs and stopping at campaign offices. *Skiing with Jason in NH and the chairlift rides. I was always in awe at how he could speak so intelligently on so many subjects. *How Jason loved to entertain on his boat. Sunset cruises where you’d wish the sun never went down so the fun could continue. *His love of History. Things that most people would like on a superficial level Jason really dug into and learned the story behind it. *Jason’s love of antiques, antique furniture, grandfather clocks, JG pewter. He had a true appreciation for craftsmanship. *Jason’s excitement when introducing me or anyone to something new. His face would light up when he was sharing one of his passions. -Matthew McLaughlin

Dear Julie, I am so profoundly sad and so terribly sorry for your loss. It is indeed hard to fathom at this time. Jason was an incredible friend to me and to all of us at True Ventures. Though we had met previously around Summit, my first True meeting with him was in the fall of 2005. Since this first meeting, Jason had the vision to inspire and encourage us to take the bold steps to start our own firm. He was a constant companion with us on the early journey, and he encouraged me and my group in ways big and small, both personally and professionally. Jason always cared so deeply about our work and our team, and his sensitivity and focus were characteristics that I admired in him. Over the years with our success he continued to be an important voice of support for us. I would regularly have long phone calls to catch him up on our news and our progress. I enjoyed these discussions, and I can’t remember one major move we made (a big exit, a new fund, a new person on the team) that didn’t have his support and thinking. I would regularly visit him in New York, for a quick coffee, a casual lunch, and it was always time I looked forward to. Jason was a core part of the founding of our firm, and without his belief in us and his support, we would not be here. He was so proud of his family, from the respect and adoration he had for Stathis to the joy of your marriage and the arrival of baby Olivia. When we last spoke he laughed and giggled with joy about her arrival. Jason was a loyal friend to me. He was caring and kind, and he always made time to connect and support me in life and in business. I looked forward to us “growing old together” in the ways that Stathis and the Summit founders developed such deep family ties over the years. I will miss his smile, his partnership, his support and his thinking terribly. I will also bring forward his memory and legacy to those around me, and inside of True we will remember the importance of Jason’s conviction and support over these many years. Please let us know if there is any way for us to appropriately honor Jason. I wish you and your family peace in these times. My family’s thoughts and prayers are with you during these difficult moments. With deepest sympathies, Jon Callaghan

Julie, My heart breaks for you and your family. I am so sorry to hear of Jason's passing. You probably do not remember me, but I met you once at a Union Club event in Manhattan when you and Jason were first dating. You two seemed so happy together. I was thrilled to hear of the arrival of Olivia - Jason was so excited to meet her. While he graduated from Hamilton several years before me, Jason and I have stayed in touch thru our love of Hamilton and rowing since we first met in the Fall of 1999 when I was a freshman. His energy toward the program and the college was limitless. After I graduated, Jason and I emailed each other about the team on and off for several years until dropping off around 2009 as the team stagnated. By chance, I attended the NCAA regatta in 2015, and emailed the coach afterward to wish him congratulations, that i'd been there, etc. Shortly after that, I received an excited email from Jason telling me that he had also been there and wanted help re-starting the Friends of Hamilton Rowing. I immediately accepted his invitation to get involved with the Friends. In the three years since, I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed my interactions with Jason - we have shared many an excited phone call, text message, and also dinner in San Francisco. His enthusiasm was contagious. You should know that Jason started something wonderful with the Friends - thru his vision, we have built a solid foundation upon which our rowing alumni can support the Hamilton Rowing teams in a much more meaningful way than ever before. One of Jason's legacies will be the positive impact the Friends will have on the lives and athletic careers of Hamilton rowers going forward. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help you during this terrible time. Sending strength, prayers, and positive energy. Steven Larson

Jason, my friend, we met in Switzerland back in 2016. I sat by you at the first dinner of our trip. I remember that you, Art Linares, and I were sort of trying to tip toe around some issues to figure out where each other stood ideologically. I think we used some ill-advised preconceived notions. I think I judged you for being a New Englander—you obviously had to be a liberal (Ha!). And I was a female—so I had to have voted for Hillary, right? Then we all realized we were conservatives—and the friendship and chatter never stopped for the next 7 days. I think we both made many good friends on the trip, but I knew there were probably only a few with whom I’d really keep in touch—you were one. You were just fun to be around and talk politics with. I cracked a joke one night about not really seeing the mystique of Martha’s Vineyard when I visited several years back. That was devastating for you to hear, and you immediately took on the challenge of making sure I changed my mind. A couple of months later, we met up again at the presidential inauguration in DC. It was the first time I got to meet your lovely wife, Julie, at Georgia Brown’s. She was just as warm and welcoming as you, and I couldn’t wait to spend more time with both of you the following summer. In July of last year, you finally got your opportunity to change my mind about Martha’s Vineyard. I spent three days with you, Julie, and several friends on Chappaquiddick. You were the most gracious hosts, and it’s a time I will always cherish. Thanks for showing this south Louisiana Cajun how Northeasterners do it. It’s tough for me to reconcile the fact that it’s the last time I will ever see you. I looked forward to many more random visits like these. I enjoyed the occasional texts and emails we shared the last few months just catching each other up on life. I especially enjoyed the Christmas card and announcement of Olivia. I have a box addressed to you and Julie on my kitchen table with various Louisiana things and something for Olivia. I hadn’t been able to get to FedEx to send it yet. In life we make various friends and acquaintances, but I’ve heard you can typically tell in the first 3 minutes if you want to be friends with someone. I knew the first time we met that you were someone who knew how to be a good friend. I appreciated that about you, and though, we only spent a short time together in person, I’ll miss your friendship. Rest easy, my friend, and may God’s peace and comfort be on your family. -Julie Emerson

I was overcome with a terrible sadness when I learned Jason had passed away. Not only because he had so much to live for in his wife, Julie, and baby daughter, Olivia, but also for the wide ranging and deep relationships Jason nurtured and developed during his time with us. As a Managing Director with VIA, my interactions with Jason took place mostly in the workplace over the last 5 years. Being based in Houston, I did not work side-by-side with Jason on a daily basis, but had the opportunity on numerous occasions to visit Peapack. When those visits occurred in the spring or early summer, we’d often find time to buy lunch and head out to the nearby Natirar Nature Preserve to discuss investment opportunities, the market outlook, or how we might approach various potential limited partners for our funds. Along with these business matters, Jason always took the time to appreciate the beauty of the park, and was kind enough to share what he knew about the local flora and fauna that was unfamiliar to me. His comments seemed to suggest he had a larger awareness of world around him that transcended the commonplace observations of most people I’ve known, and tried to share those perspectives at these informal lunch gatherings. A couple of years ago, Jason and I were in Dallas to visit a few candidate managers VIA was considering for our funds. Since we’d scheduled the meetings to begin in the late morning, we had several hours of free time, and Jason arranged for us to make an impromptu visit to an art gallery where one of Julie’s college roommates worked. In addition to Julie’s personal connection to one of the staff, this particular gallery was trying to sell as small painting depicting rolling sun-burnt hills in California’s Napa Valley, and Jason was very interested in viewing the artwork. Jason and I spent some time looking at the painting during which time he outlined the background of the artist -- whose name I cannot recall – and took the time to share that the most important feature was artist’s ability to capture the true glow of those California hills at sunset. Other artists, Jason noted, tried to capture that glow but usually could not measure up. Jason went up to the painting – very close – and seemed to look “into” the painting quietly for a few minutes, concentrating intently on the picture. It seemed to me then (and even on reflection now) that Jason was a very deep, thoughtful person that I could learn from in the coming years. I’ll close by saying that Jason was my friend and colleague, and will missed. My wife, Elizabeth, also passes on her condolences and prayers for Julie and Olivia, as well as Stathis and Stacey. May Jason rest in peace today and always. Adrian Garcia Managing Director, VIA