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RIP Larry Hobbs

Here at Lost Borders we are honoring our new Ancestor -Larry Hobbs, who served as a much loved Guide with us at the School for many decades. Larry sadly passed away on September 27th 2024.

Larry’s story began 78 years ago in the shadow of the San Gabriel Mountains, a rebellious boy who ditched Sunday school to explore the Santa Ana wind-whipped streets of Alhambra, his story traversed and changed the world. From his trips as a researcher in the Antarctic, stepping onto the barren shores of South Georgia Island with a half a million king penguins dotted as far as your eye could see; to the sacred circles and ceremony of the wilderness rights of passage that he led as a guide and trainer with the School of Lost Borders, helping at-risk youth and U.S. veterans as a co-founder of both Veteran Rites and the 4-H Rites of Passage Program. 

Larry strongly believed that “…it is essential that we spend time alone (preferably in the wilderness) without the trappings of society: no food, no shelter, and no company. Solitude creates the possibility of emergent transformation.”

You can read the full version of his obituary, charting a life so very well lived here:

https://earthfuneral.com/obituary/lawrence-hobbs-09272024

Larry’s life left so many remarkable ripples; inspired and influenced so many Guides and fasters; he took the bare bones and co-created them into entirely new organizations, shaping and maybe even saving -so many lives.

We have gathered some images and reflections from our guides as a tribute to him below.

(If you’d like to download a PDF copy of some these reflections of his life to place on an ancestors alter then you can do so here.)

Larry Hobbs knew the story of the stones — through decades of footfalls and through years of geological study.

Larry knew the story of this great wide earth, written in melting caps, rising seas, changing currents, changing times.

He knew the human story, at least parts of it — broken and whole and breaking again.

A story of imbalance leading the way towards unthinkable horizons. A bleak story, but with room enough for healing, with faith enough for mystery, with at least a backward glance towards hope.

It had to be that way, despite the facts (or because of them), because Larry knew healing in his own story — knew about the grace of ‘just enough’ and ‘right on time’.

Larry could speak to you when you were at the bottom of the well because he’d been there, all the way down. He never tried to fix. He never tried to be what he was not — he would meet you where he could, and love you anyway where he couldn’t.

 I loved him for his fallibility and imperfection and flaws. I loved him for his great mind, his hearty laugh, his wideness of heart, his dedication to his work.

Larry kept his finger on the pulse of our collective future in a way few I know have.

He loved this world just like he loved us all —  in spite of the brokenness. Or maybe because of it… even if it broke his heart to do so.

I was not done learning from and with Dr. Hobbs. I miss the windows into the universe that only he could provide.

Will Scott

Larry was an awesome human being who was so easy to love and respect.  He was brought to us by Wally Herbert who was an Arctic explorer and artist of renown, who fasted with S and I and who told us to wait for the gift he was sending to us. 

One couldn’t help but recognize a seriously intelligent and passionate man in Larry, and he quickly became a friend as well as a trainee.  For several years he lived at 3 Creeks with us and often kept Steven company on our little porch. 

He was there for Steven in so many ways those last years of Steven’s life.

I miss Larry and the important voice that he brought to the School.

 And I have a little smile imagining him, Steven, and Wally having some passionate conversations, and creating a little chaos together, if there ever is the possibility of a reunion. 

Meredith

 

All the Stories- An ode to Larry Hobbs by Roo and Pedro

His life was full

of all the stories

told everywhere even

in a zodiac dingy

on the shore

of the Antarctic peninsula

to a crowd of eco travelers,

a story of the impending ecological collapse

of everything

or told in his old red truck

with all you needed

in the drawers under the bed,

stories of river dolphins and

ocean crossings, stories

of chasing whales and chasing

arctic ice or of the wilderness

of Washington DC not to mention

the story he told of Pedro

at our wedding or the hundreds

or thousands of stories told to Roo

over two decades in the quiet

of basecamps at Horsethief

in the Eureka where talk of

alien butt probes

was normal while

dancing to laser lights

and spot-iffy or as some

call it Spotify

on those exquisite desert nights with the valley filled

with spirit lights.

And then there were all the stories

he heard and reflected with his fragile and

loving heart

to all the people who came

and filled a longing to be seen and loved,

he would hold

up the mirror and love

and laugh and cry for

the love of the story

all the stories.

We see you now dear friend

among those spirit lights

feel you etched

into our hearts like

the desert trilobites

while savoring

memories of long friendship

ended too soon. It helps

to know that love finally

found you in the end

and held you so

you could simply let go

of all the stories and rest

knowing how truly lovable you are.

 

A Sweet Lullaby

At the Wilderness Guides Council gathering, held on Bainbridge Island near Seattle, WA, just

three weeks after Larry’s passing, conversations about and tributes to Larry were frequent

during our six days together. We had all expected to see him there this year, so his absence was

especially acute.

Eight veterans from Veteran Rites also showed up at the Gathering to honor Larry and the

enormous role he had in co-creating Veteran Rites and his influence on their lives through being

in ceremony with him. Just having these vets at a WGC Gathering brought a level of “gravitas”

to the extraordinary power of the vision fast ceremony to heal and make whole what has been

wounded or fractured by not only war trauma but also by collective and familial trauma for the

vets, for all of us.

Thus, and this is not surprising, on the last night when netkeeper Christi played a recording of

an interview with Larry, all the vets stood as one at the sound of Larry’s voice. He sang a lullaby

that he had taught them. They joined in. We all wept.

With Larry’s voice, suddenly, he was there in the room! He had made it to the WGC after all.

We heard his chuckle, could imagine his smile, felt his presence, and took home a sweet lullaby

of farewell.

Nancy

 

 

 

“I miss you something fierce Larry Hobbs. You leave a hole, Larry, of the most beautiful kind – of a life well risked for love – and the only way to fill it is by doing the same while we are still here. 

This is not goodbye. Just until we meet again.”

 Petra

 

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