Celebration of Life

March 14, 2026

Program

The complete program is below. Not all remarks are available.

Prelude

Hilary Hahn – Felix Mendelssohn Violin Concerto

Welcome

Christina Dominique-Pierre

Keeping Quiet, by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.

Life is what it is about…

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with
death.

Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

Video Reel

John Minkle

What My Dad Taught Me

Ceilidh Yurenka

My dad taught me a great many things.

When I was little—maybe four or five—my dad gave me a dime so I could ride my tricycle a few hundred feet down the sidewalk to the corner store to buy a pretzel stick. He watched the whole thing from the upstairs window.

I imagine it was my first big solo adventure. And it’s hard to say which of us was more proud—me, for doing it on my own, or my dad, as he witnessed me bravely venturing out.

He was an observer and a teacher. And he loved watching people grow into themselves.

One summer when I was 7 or so, we were sitting on the front lawn of the Montpelier Public Library for an impromptu drawing lesson – I was inspired by a story we’d just read, and so I needed to learn how to draw a sled. I remember him explaining perspective and vanishing points, showing me how lines converge to make something flat look more dimensional.

Unlike my dad, I never developed my drawing or painting skills. In fact, as a young adult, I spent a lot of time focused on our differences, and far more time being frustrated by them. It wasn’t until he died, while going through old family letters & photographs, that I fully realized how alike my dad and I are.

Some of the similarities are obvious. If you look at our baby pictures, we practically could have been twins. Photography featured prominently in both of our lives, and we both spent much of our working days focused on the environment, thinking about how to care for this planet. Neither of us is great at estimating the length of time for a given task, or finding work-life balance.

But some of the things he taught me were subtler and harder to see.

When I was in art school, I went through a period of serious depression. There were many weeks when getting out of bed felt almost impossible. My dad would drive from Lexington to Allston—sometimes every day—just to help me get to class, or to take me out for food, or go for a walk.

One of my most vivid memories from that time was of us sitting outside on a fall day. I was leaning against him, crying with a heaviness I couldn’t really explain. He didn’t try to fix it. He didn’t give advice. He just sat there with his arm around my back.

And even though I still felt the pain, I also felt relief. Because in that moment, I knew I wasn’t holding it all alone.

That was one of his quiet teachings — how to show up.

He also taught me about perseverance, sometimes in the most obnoxious ways —like when I was learning my times tables and he refused to let me answer the door to let in my friend until I correctly answered what 7×4 was.

He taught me how to set up a home darkroom in the bathroom.

About prioritizing money spent on good food and art supplies.

He also taught me that sometimes being wrong is wonderful. When I was a teenager he dragged me to see the famous mime Marcel Marceau. I resisted with everything I had. And of course… he was right. It was actually an amazing show.

His sense of humor was frequently wacky, and filled with puns. He also maintained a certain… stubborn individuality.

When commercials first started showing before previews in movie theaters, he embarrassed the hell out of me one time by yelling back at a Coca-Cola ad that claimed it was refreshing:

“Refreshing! Until it rots your teeth!”

One of the remarkable things about him was his insatiable curiosity. He was endlessly interested in the world and had so many different passions—some short-lived phases, some lifelong ones. From homeopathy to computer programming, from ice skating to biking and then bicycle mechanics. From baking bread to hanging out at a local goat farm, from watercolor painting to calligraphy… to his obsession over the past few years with leopards. And of course, piano.

He loved playing the piano.

He had a way of diving deeply into whatever piqued his interest and then he gave it his all.

One of his most profound teachings came in these last few months – an acceptance of his deteriorating body, while simultaneously keeping his sense of humor.

When I realized he was ready to move into hospice care, I cried a lot. To which he said, “oh, kiddo, everyone dies. It’s not just inevitable, it’s also necessary.” I told him I really wanted to do right by him and asked if there was anything else he’d like me to know about his wishes, and to which he said,

“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out as we go along.”

And I said, “yeah, well, I’m not a mind reader, so I really wish you’d tell me if there is anything.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah. People are really bad at reading minds. But (finger point) we’re not so bad at finding delicious cookies.”

So I asked, “does this mean you’re thinking about cookies and I should bring you some later?”

His response? “No. It just means that even though people are crappy at reading minds, they are quite adept at finding cookies”. Which is the exact sort of esoteric wisdom he was fond of sharing.

Of course, now that he’s gone, I am just longing for more.

More of his bizarrely logical philosophy.

More conversations about psychology, or life after death, or lucid dreaming, or love.

More meeting up for dinner and dessert (the dessert part was key)!.

In the absence of more, I know I get to keep him with me because of everything he taught me – the perseverance, the curiosity, the absurdity, and the power of showing up.

I will do my best to carry those things forward.

Thank you, Pops.

Remarks

Beck Mordini – Executive Director of Bio4Climate

Each of us leaves a legacy- each small act of our lives creates on imprint that endures beyond us. Adam lived a full life with ripples and imprints seen in his family, his art, his community and something as simple but delightful as his humor.

I am Beck Mordini, the person chosen by the board when Adam retired in 2023 to try to follow in his footsteps as the Executive Director of Bio4Climate.

As you can see from the video, that task is impossible. The energy, passion, courage, and creativity that Adam brought to helping to bring to life a new kind of climate organization, a new climate movement really, are uniquely his.

When I first started to work with Adam on fundraising in late 2022, he would tell me that Bio4Climate is a field catalyst, sparking actions in others. Organizations started, careers taking a new turn, books influenced, TED talks shaped, even UN programs that shifted a bit after talking to us.

As I got to know Adam and to understand this organization I realized that Adam himself was the spark, the igniter that sets off the catalyst.

He created a global community, not of nations but of people all working for a common cause.

He uplifted voices that had not been widely heard especially in climate conversations and despite the urgency of the climate situation, was determined to share stories of hope and success.

The last time I saw Adam was last summer in Cambridge. I was hanging out with him and Paula in their apartment. Paula and I were going over some business. Adam had been pretty quiet, saving his energy as he often did in recent years. As I started to leave … He got up and said rather out of the blue, you have changed my life.

I was caught by surprise. In that brief moment I understood that Adam was satisfied that the legacy of Bio4Climate would continue. And how deeply important that was to him.

I let him know he had changed my life, and the lives of so many.

We do this work, not for Adam, but because we know the world needs us. The voice of nature cannot be lost in the clanging of carbon markets and shiny tech solutions. But we are so blessed to have had Adam to create the vehicle that allows us to do this work together.

The future is uncertain in part because each day we are creating it.

In that first year at the helm, the thing that seemed most uncertain to me was where would the money come from to pay these wonderful people to do this meaningful work. Adam reassured me, somehow it always comes. And it has. And so many of you are the reason we have made it this far,

As our programming expands, and our outcomes and impacts are measured in the way the world of money likes to see, we are building an even firmer base to hold this legacy.

But you and I know that the truest impact will never be found on a balance sheet. Adam’s legacy is in the beauty of a Miyawki forest reaching up from concrete or lawn. His legacy is in the hearts of all those who have a new hope for the future. We all hold that legacy, the unique imprint of a life lived boldly enough to change the world.

It has been a deep honor to work with Adam and carry on his legacy at Bio4climate.

Speakers

Paula Phipps

When people think of Adam they think about his vision for a world restored to its natural health and abundance. But as Anastassia Makarieva recently wrote, it was his dedication to developing a new ethic toward the living world that has changed us all and made Bio4climate a powerful force for change. A skillful writer and speaker, Adam went everywhere he thought people might listen. He was indefatigable. And he saved his name tags from all those places! He did like memorabilia.

Adam was also a skilled artist and a perfectionist about visual things and his artistry gave Bio4climate’s publications a professional look that belied our actual financial state. People from all over the planet came to speak (almost all) without being paid, happy for the opportunity to offer their work and excited to meet like-minded others. His leadership catalyzed the creation of new organizations and introduced many people to ideas that profoundly impacted their work and understanding.

Adam took a special interest in young people, going to many meetings with Zero Hour and the Sunrise Movement, whose members presented and sang at conferences. Jim Laurie’s home-schooled kids were always welcome presenters. Young people, their future and their potential, were always on his mind. One of his favorite books, published in 2009 was titled Kids on Strike. He built an organization that, as Maya Dutta recently said, she experienced as nourishing, warm and kind. He mentored young staffers meeting with each for an hour every week, generous with his time, his attention, and his caring.

Adam’s prescience was striking. And his deep respect for people of color. He began publishing articles about climate change in 2009. One of his first articles was framed around a long quote from Frederick Douglas writing about the failure of people to speak out against slavery: “At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument is needed….The feeling of the nation must be quickened; the conscience of the nation must be roused; the propriety of the nation must be startled; the hypocrisy of the nation must be exposed….” It was a call to passionate action that Adam repurposed.

I am grateful for every day we shared together, and I miss him terribly now. Is he here? His interest in the paranormal deserves at least another few minutes. His pleasure in videos showing interspecies cooperation and his love for the big cats a few more, the Outlander series, his delight in Hilary Hahn’s violin virtuosity which helped us through some difficult days in his last weeks. His bravery.

Jed Katch – Director of Education, Bio4Climate

Annie Shreffler – GBH Forum Network, Senior Digital Producer

Philip Bogdanoff – Bio4Climate Board Chair

Judith D. Schwartz – Author, Environmental Journalist

John Feldman – Filmmaker, Hummingbird Films

I am a filmmaker. Adam was a singularly important mentor to me during the making of my film Regenerating Life.

Adam was the first activist I had ever met who yelled at the top of his lungs and with all his heart that we must include biology in the study of climate change because biology controls the climate! Of course I loved him for that insistence.

There are two experiences that came immediately to mind when I thought about saying something today.

Very early on in the production of Regenerating Life, when I had finally finished an outline of the entire film… this was April 2019, Adam and I agreed to meet in Cambridge and go over it. The place he selected was called Life Alive… so that was a good sign. We worked over the document for at least two hours. But it wasn’t what I had expected – and I remember feeling slightly disappointed. I had expected him to help me shape it… you know … move this stuff here, and that stuff there, and this isn’t necessary, and so on. No… we just talked about the content, and he kept telling me that I must read this or that or watch this or that movie. He knew every paper in the compendium of course. He was a walking encyclopedia. So, looking at my notes as I left… it was a gigantic to-do list. In this regard Adam was very much like Lynn Margulis, he didn’t give me direct answers to questions or help me do what I had to do, instead he pushed me to read more, learn more, dig deeper, and think again.

A couple years later we were both studying thermodynamics and sharing what we understood. It was mostly through e-mails because Adam was working on a summary of a book by Dan Young to include in the Compendium. It was a thrilling experience because he was determined not only to understand thermodynamics and life, but to be able to explain it. Which was also my ambition. At one point in our emails, he writes in the beginning:

“Don’t worry about finding entropy – I guarantee that it will find you . . .”

As I was looking at some of his old emails in preparing to do this talk, I realized how much of what we had been talking about and the people he put me in touch with would be helpful for my new documentary, The Gaia Perspective. And this reminded me of something I learned when I was making the film about Lynn Margulis: “We live on through the goodwill we leave behind.” Adam left behind a lot of goodwill.

When my mother passed away, Adam wrote me this: Losing a wonderful person is always challenging.

Thanks for inviting me to speak.

Jim Laurie – Futurist, Co-founder, Bio4Climate educator

I miss Adam…

Adam was the glue that held Bio4climate together in our first decade. When there was no one left to do the work, Adam did it. When there were no funds to pay for it, Adam found them. When morale got low, Adam found humor, often with terrible puns, but the laughter would follow. When I would stress that all living things should have a voice, Adam reminded me that all our eclectic staff of part timers and volunteers deserved to be heard. In every weekly meeting, everyone was encouraged to speak and “give your department report.” He believed in the underdog.

In our first conference at Tufts in November 2014, we wanted to find speakers with powerful messages who might not be well known. Adam would lead a team that wrote the narrative for the conference and tie the speakers’ stories together. The narrative hopefully weaved each speaker’s message into a stronger vision. Somehow, we got Precious Pheri, from the African Centre for Holistic Management to fly in from Zimbabwe to teach us about community land restoration in Africa. We had a great program planned, but Adam did something remarkable that I will never forget.

Candace Ducheneaux spoke on Sunday morning at this conference to an audience of about 125 people. As I remember it, the audience was in a rapt silence. People were wanting to hear every word. Candace spoke in the Lakota language & then translated to English. She was born on the Cheyenne River Lakota Reservation and remembered the huge Oahe Dam which flooded the best Lakota bottomlands when she was a young girl. She spoke for healthy abundant water and it was very emotional for me.

When Adam spoke to Candace, he decided that she would be the perfect tribal speaker for water at our conference. Candance could not fly and had no car. Her daughter, Karen could drive a rental car to Boston. Bio4climate had exhausted its funds, so Adam paid for the rental, motel, and meals for two for a week and gas. To Adam, Candace had something important to say that our tiny group needed to hear. Watch the Video, and see if you agree.

Nancy Lee Wood – Professor, Bristol Community College, B4C Board

Hannah Lewis – Author, Mini-Forest Revolution

I worked with Adam for 5 years on Bio4Climate’s Compendium project. Adam was a steady and generous mentor who provided me with comradery, connection to the broader Bio4Climate community, and co-learning and companionship in the exploration of biodiversity. The process of developing the Compendium was such a blessing because it gave me the chance to dig deep to try to understand how ecosystems work and how we depend on them. I learned through the process of trying to explain scientific concepts in writing in ways anyone could understand.

Adam and I often talked about how to get the important ideas presented in the Compendium in front of more people, and what media formats would be more accessible than a pdf link on a website. He shared about the Compendium to a Chelsea Green editor at an organic farming conference at one point, and then introduced me to her. She encouraged me to write a book proposal, and this ultimately led to the publication of Mini-Forest Revolution. Without Bio4Climate and Adam in particular, I would not have had the vision nor the conceptual framework to have conceived of or written this book.

I appreciate Adam for his courage to use his voice, his receptivity to other people’s voices, his curiosity and hunger to keep learning, and for his authenticity and heart. He brought people together and kept us energized toward a common goal and shared vision. I am so grateful that our paths crossed and were connected for a good while during which Adam’s influence helped to set my life in a new and very positive trajectory.

Quinton Zondervan – Former Cambridge City Councillor

Dear Friends,

It’s always hard to say goodbye forever, even when someone has lived a very long time, and our dear friend Adam certainly accomplished that! But it’s even harder when the dearly departed was as witty and as punny as Adam. I’m not sure if this is true, but I think he’d be honored if I try to say goodbye in a way that pays tribute to his eloquition. Yes, I made up that word, just for you Adam!

I first got to know Adam more than 20 years ago, as part of an effort to elect Dennis Kucinich President of the United States of Massachusetts. We were aware that our chances of success were slim, but we were certain we were going to succeed! Adam stuck out to me in our small crowd of true believers. He was tall, skinny, slightly goofy, a little cocky, and somehow indecisively self assured. I liked him instantly. Biologically, he was the same age as my father, but socially, he was the jovial older brother I never got to have.

No matter where we were meeting, he would bike there from his house in Lexington, always wearing the same uniform of cycling shoes, jeans, a t-shirt, a flannel shirt on top if it was cold, a jacket over that if it was freezing cold, and a bicycle helmet to protect his big unruly curls. Whenever I think of him, that’s always the image that comes into my mind.

Years later, I reconnected with Adam as he started working on soil and biodiversity. I remember him telling me about his experiments measuring the ambient temperature at his house in Lexington, and how much vegetation cooled things down. I’m from the Caribbean, so I was not surprised by the results, but I was impressed by his scientific rigor. I knew he was on to something, and we kept meeting and talking and working on it.

Later Adam moved to Cambridge, to live with Paula, who I also already knew as a friend, and I was happy for them to have found each other late in life. It goes to show that love has no expiration date, and that’s a beautiful thing! I would travel to Harvard square to attend their conferences, mostly to hear Adam speak, because he was always very entertaining. One paraphrase that really stuck with me is: “So climate change is this huge problem, but luckily, after a billion years of R&D, nature has found the solution: biodiversity!”

I miss him greatly, and I’m grateful for his life, and for his work. He and Paula have given us a beautiful gift for the future: A better way to think about our relationship with the earth’s biome. Adam was a good ancestor. Let’s honor him by continuing this critical work.