Speaking a Word for Success

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Picture, if you can, a Thoreau scholar riding a motorcycle.

In late February 2003, I emailed the editor of the Thoreau Society Bulletin addressing him as "Bradley P. Dean," saying that I was a new member of the Society and had just enjoyed reading the Fall 2002 Bulletin. Telling him that I'd been finding many Thoreauvian references of late, I quoted Thoreau's journal entry of November 4, 1858 -- "We cannot see anything until we are possessed with the idea of it, and then we can hardly see anything else" -- and then appended a dozen or so bibliographic notes from a variety of contemporary sources.

I heard back within minutes: "Hello Chris. Call me Brad."

Dean's response, thanking me for the notes I'd sent, began a correspondence that grew over time from collegial to friendly, fueled by a shared passion.

There are now 476 items in my email folder titled "Brad." That's nearly one for every two days since then. The last was sent to him on Friday the 13th, the day before Brad Dean had a heart attack and died and at home.

He was just 51.

When I learned the news I felt shattered. Then a sense of vast personal loss welled up. Brad was not just my closest but my only Thoreauvian correspondent. He encouraged me, gently edited and published my words, and, many times it seemed, was alone in understanding an important part of my world.

Brad was generous in sharing his knowledge. Now I'm not sure how to imagine my ecosystem without him. To whom do I go with my questions about Thoreau? Who will continue his work? I always thought we'd meet someday. Now he is gone and his important work remains uncompleted.

Brad Dean edited two highly acclaimed works from Thoreau's unpublished manuscripts, Faith in a Seed and Wild Fruits, as well as Letters to a Spiritual Seeker, a collection of Thoreau's letters to H.G.O. Blake. As a brief obituary in the Bloomington, Indiana, Herald-Times notes, Brad was working on Thoreau's unpublished "Indian Notebooks" at the time of his death. I've looked forward to reading this book some day.

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