Hi
Thank you for nominating me the most prestigious award and I won the award. I wanted to thank you and googled your name. Shocked and speechless,  even after you passed away you are still helping and showing to be kind. You will always be remembered in my life. Thank you.

I miss Alexa. She gave me this for my birthday this year (April 2020) and wore an identical one. While I may be known to have a big personality like Lex, when it comes to something personal like this, I tend to be very quiet and introspective. I haven’t been able to bring myself to read most of the posts on Forever Missed or Facebook. I have read some, and what I have read is spot on. Though I tend to shy away from public posting, I hope that some of my words will dovetail well with other's sentiments about her.

The words that I can use to describe Alexa are endless. If a book were to be written about her it would be an epic novel and if a play were to be scripted it would be a musical filled with singing and dancing. For now, I will begin with one word, extraordinary. Noting that the key here is EXTRA, and she was, in every imaginable way. As many have expressed, she was endlessly positive, abundantly joyful, generally full of laughter, and ready for an adventure at the drop of a hat. If there was the slightest mention of dancing, there was no waiting for a dance floor (or even music sometimes) she was shaking what her momma gave her THAT VERY SECOND, and I loved her for that. She was known as a scientist, a student, a mentor, a conservationist, an activist, a leader, a confidant, a buddy, a friend, a fan. She was your fan, my fan, a fan of animals of all kinds, of dark chocolate (we all know the stash that always existed in her freezer or in some random bag she was carrying), of wearing workout wear 24/7, of dancing (any style), of music (you could talk to her about any band or any artist from the 1960s through today…just leave out the 80’s, apparently that was a decade that did not exist). 

She was tenacious, resourceful, and a force to be reckoned with. She was a collector. You name it, she had it. If you ever tried to pick up that lead brick she called a backpack, been to any of her living spaces, or been involved in any of her moves you know what I am talking about .  She collected people too. Wonderful, kind, insightful, big-hearted people. She collected them like they were going out of style. She saw the best in people and made an effort to bring joy into other’s lives as often as she was able.

Alexa was resilient and fiercely independent. If something managed to knock her down, she found a way to get back up with added vigor. She had extremely high standards and expectations of herself and was a high achiever. She was someone you could always count on to help.

All of these things made her beautiful.

Alexa was also human. She did have moments that were not perfect. Watching her learn to accept and work with the things that were not perfect also made her beautiful. When I first met her, she was STEADFAST on not asking for help, even when she clearly needed it. And then she changed. She learned to reach out and ask for what she needed. What was even more exciting was that she was proud of herself. She had always been so proud of others. I loved receiving those phone calls when she voiced how proud she was about doing good things for herself.

Alexa was a sailor at heart. She lived to be on the water. In the water. Near the water. Talking about being on the water or the next time she would be sailing. Or just on a boat.

She was an animal lover. All animals. The girl could warm up to a rattlesnake. And while dolphins may have been special to her… we all know secretly deep down… her favorite animal *might* have been the loyal dog. If her two recent adoptions were not evidence, look back at her love for Edna (her mom’s unbelievably adorable dog) and even MY dog got a following on HER Snapchat (if anyone remembers Sexy pug).

Alexa was a comedian, and most of the time it was on purpose. One of my favorite Alexa comedy moments was when she was asked by a doctor (after surgery on her wrist) to wiggle her middle finger. To encourage movement, he kept tapping on her finger with his pen and her finger was not moving. Mind you, she was still groggy from anesthesia. Come on Alexa move this finger (tap, tap, tap). Nothing. So, we are all encouraging her, the doctor, the nurses, me, and guess what… up shoots her finger… the middle one, ON THE OTHER HAND. Classic! We all agreed, including Alexa, her funny bone was still intact. In addition to great comedic timing, she used incredible terminology like “hair wookies” to describe the gobs of hair we lose when showering. It was as if she was Mary Poppins inventing her very own Supercalifragilisticexbialadocious vocabulary. It was the best!

I could fill endless pages on who Alexa was. Bottom line? She was EXTRA. And I will miss every EXTRA thing about her. There is nobody that will ever fill the hole in my heart that has been left by her absence.

Alexa, there are so many memories, experiences, and moments we had together that I will never forget, least of all the very first day I met you (fasten your seatbelts everyone, this story is a wildly unbelievable, yet very true, roller coaster ride). Summers were always extremely busy for you in San Diego. Yet, despite that, you didn’t hesitate when Leigh asked you to come up to Oregon in July 2018 to teach me, the newest GEMM Lab member, all there was to know about the Port Orford gray whale project. You had never met me before and you had only participated in the Port Orford project for a week the previous summer, but none of that stopped you. You flew to Portland from San Diego and made your way to Newport. We loaded up the MMI truck with all the gear and headed south towards Port Orford. So far, so good. Great, even! You pulled off the highway any chance we got so I could marvel at the beauty of the Oregon coast. But that all changed when we got to Coos Bay where we planned to stock up on groceries. You, ever so organized & thoughtful, had already compiled a grocery list but as we were going up and down the aisle, adding things to our cart, you suddenly realized that your phone was missing. We retraced our steps. Nothing. As always, you were quick on your feet, and connected to the Safeway wifi on your tablet to use the ‘Find My iPhone’ app to help solve the mystery. Lo-and-behold, your phone was no longer in the store…We drove to the location and arrived at what we always describe as a “creepy-looking motel” (although under any other circumstance the motel would have probably looked totally normal). We surveyed our surroundings and made notes (I still have that note on my phone) about all the people and vehicles we saw. One person in particular drew our attention because out of the back of his car he pulled out several…Safeway grocery bags!!! Feeling giddy about our amateur-sleuthing but also nervous because we were sitting in a pretty conspicuous white government truck in a motel parking lot, you decided that it was probably time to call the police. Two officers arrived and it soon was revealed that the man we had seen with Safeway bags had indeed just been at Safeway with his daughter. Apparently, his daughter had a habit of stealing and he told the officers he was confident that his daughter had stolen the phone and that he would call them as soon as he found it. There wasn’t much for us to do so you decided it would be best to drive to Port Orford, get settled in and once we heard from the police, we could drive back to Coos Bay. We did eventually hear from the police and drove all the way back to Coos Bay in the dark, only to find that your phone was completely destroyed. The night involved more adventures (including sleeping on the floor but that’s a whole other story), yet, the next day (the 4th of July), you let none of these events stop us from making s’mores (my first ones ever!) and watching the dinghy race & fireworks from the field station. You blazed on, with your unparalleled optimism and determination, to ensure that I not only learned everything that I needed to know to be able to run the project, but that we also had a great time while learning. Alexa, I will cherish the time we had together forever and I miss you so incredibly much.

The only thing I knew about Alexa when she moved in to our house was that she was the girl that posted to the social listserv to go out dancing. Little did I know how kind, fun, and inspiring she truly was. We had many great conversations about travel, grad school and life, but one of the special thing about her was how much she embraced the life of pet aunt. Alexa even volunteered to watch my and Tyler's dogs while we were gone for two years! But Alexa had a special relationship with our horse, Jacy. Jacy is an appaloosa with an attitude who she was SO excited to meet. She told me many times how when she was a kid in school, the teacher would ask students to come up with alliterative names to associate with themselves, and hers was always Alexa Appaloosa. After proving to me that she could in-fact ride a horse, Alexa went out riding at every opportunity. She took Jacy all throughout the McDonald Dunn forest, and even nursed him back to health when he got injured.

In her horsey adventures, Alexa also introduced us to the concept of 'the dump-cake.' Apparently, she grew up riding at a barn where when you fell off, not only did you have to get back on, but for some reason you had to make a cake for everyone. The cake consists of a surprisingly delicious mixture of  canned peaches, white cake mix, and a lot of butter dumped in a pan. Lo and behold, Jacy had to hold her to the promise that we would get one. Despite Jacy getting rather old, on occasion he feels the need to prove that he is still young at heart. Alexa did not just fall off, no, Jacy tossed her very deliberately and rudely with a display of bucking. In some amazing gymnastic miracle, Alexa landed on her feet. She then watched as Jacy's spotted butt galavanted around the arena before he, quite impressively, managed to get his reins stuck in his back shoe. It was quite an interesting phone call, as she couldn't get the reins unstuck. I arrived at the barn to see how my ridiculous horse had hog-tied himself. With a little bit of wrestling, and a fair amount of sweating, we got the reins free. After making sure he was okay, we drove back home. The next evening, after getting back from the office, there was the glorious dump-cake on the counter. "Told you I had to." She said. 

I first met Alexa in Barcelona when I arrived at the apartment the GEMM lab was sharing for the conference. My first memory is that she greeted me like an old friend and made me feel instantaneously welcome. There was no awkward initial phase, we met and were friends. I adored every time we got a chance to catch up and chat. This past spring I had regular “zoom GIS dates” with Alexa to help her with GIS, but I have to admit these were 50% catch up time, and I’ve never been happier to be unproductive. She was never bothered by GIS crashing for the tenth time, something that would have most people banging their head on a desk, instead she would just say “ah well, ok so back to [whatever we were talking about]”. We bonded over field work and travel stories (she had the best travel stories). Whenever we spoke she was always supportive and kind, she truly believed in you and made sure you knew it. 


Alexa, your welcoming, enthusiastic, and encouraging spirit has been an inspiration that I will carry with me always. Thank you for everything, your warm, vibrant, and brilliant presence is deeply missed.

For anyone who knew Alexa, you knew she had an uncanny ability to connect with others on such a personal level that made you feel truly valued and loved. No matter the circumstances, she made it a point to always show up for those she cared about, which makes it extremely difficult to choose just one memory to remember her by. Instead, I’m choosing to remember her by the way she made me feel, as a human and a friend. Even during the most challenging of times, Alexa always wanted to know how I was doing and what I was doing outside of school to take care of myself. I can’t count the number of times she pulled me away from my work to go out dancing at the Peacock or drag shows, hiking on our weekends, or even making short donut runs to Benny’s Donuts. She understood that even scientists have basic needs for personal connection, fun and enjoyment, and love. If there’s anything Alexa’s passing has taught me, it is this: always show up for your fellow scientists and colleagues as people and friends first, because our support for one another will no doubt leave a longer-standing and greater impact on this world than our achievements and discoveries. Her passing will be my constant reminder that we all deserve to be treated and valued with love and dignity. Alexa, thank you for teaching me this valuable lesson, and I hope I get the chance to impact someone else’s life, as much as you have mine. I love you, and I promise I’ll visit San Diego soon.

Alexa was a light in my life since I met her in Oregon. I first met Alexa while living in the dorms in Newport and got to be her roommate for that summer. She would always wake up in the morning and head to the basketball court with her laptop to do some exercises, always so energetic and enthusiastic! I also shared rooms with her on multiple other occasions, including my house when she needed a place and at all of the conferences we went to together. While I was pretty much dead after an entire day of talks and was ready to go to bed, she was getting ready to go dancing. She was always SO full of energy and life. Alexa indeed knew how to enjoy life, and did it graciously. 

She easily became one of my greatest friends in Oregon. She was my confidant during the struggles of grad life and was always supportive no matter what happened. Last year we were in Barcelona for a conference and my passport got lost in the mail system. She saw how nervous I was and made sure to accompany me to the other side of the city to go check if my passport had arrived, even if she already had plans for that night. Also, when I was about to defend my Ph.D. she would go do groceries for me to make sure I had enough ice cream while struggling with my presentation practice. Alexa had problems, many problems, but still went above and beyond to make sure all of her friends were taken care of. 

We both loved dancing and were taking dance classes in grad school. We tried to find a dance style that we both liked so we could go to dance together, but I was already taking hip hop classes and loved it. Alexa would not accept going to hip hop as she thought it was not an inclusive and diverse space and she wanted to spend her time meeting and cherishing diverse people. She was always so thoughtful and probably one of the most inclusive people I have ever met. 

Alexa’s contagious laugh, caring and optimism left me a deep mark that I am going to carry close to my heart throughout my life. She is such a great inspiration for how we should live our lives. I love you Alexa and miss you dearly. Thank you for everything. Rest in peace and keep shining wherever you are. I am sure this is just a “see you later”. 

Alexa loved the ocean and seemed more at-home while at-sea than almost anyone I know. I asked Alexa to join me aboard the RV Oceanus for a STEM research cruise in September 2018 where we took high school students and teachers to sea to teach them how we collect marine mammal and oceanographic data. (Alexa wrote a lovely blog about this cruise here.) I was not surprised by her enthusiasm – that was her nature – but I was utterly amazed at how easily Alexa mentored the students, communicated with the crew, balanced teaching with humor and humility, created learning moments everywhere, and supported everyone on-board so they felt welcomed and comfortable. During this cruise, Alexa was my partner, my teammate. We were both in our element and shared so much joy at the privilege to be at-sea, laughter at the excitement and adventure, inspiration at watching the next generation of marine scientists learn, and awe for the beauty that the ocean holds. This is how I will remember you, Alexa. Your free, beautiful, kind, joyous spirit will always be with me.

The day Alexa moved to Oregon to start graduate school, she learned that we were sailing here in Newport as part of Yaquina Bay Yacht Club’s Wednesday night race series. She had yet to move into her apartment, but she hopped on a sailboat that very evening. Alexa was in her element, with wind in her hair and salt spray on her face. She smiled through it all as her signature laughter rang out across the bay, and by the end of the evening she had easily become friends with the entire community. This was Alexa’s way of life. She leapt at opportunities, she poured her whole self into everything she did, and she connected with everyone immediately, deeply, and genuinely.

Her optimism was unending. After long, stormy weather days at sea she would enthusiastically send a sunset photo with the caption “Red sky at night, sailors delight!” She lived every moment to the fullest, and she helped all of us see beauty, humor, and joy through her eyes. “Let’s document this, I’m taking a picture!” she’d say. Oftentimes, I’d roll my eyes. “Hey, Dawn you’re not in the picture. Lean in!” she’d insist. Now I have so many photos and memories to cherish.

What a constant joy it was, dear Alexa, to be your labmate and your friend. What a heartbreaking reminder your sudden departure is to take nothing for granted, to live life to the absolute fullest, to dance often and sing loudly, and to hold nothing back. Fair winds and following seas, you beautiful, bright spirit. We love and miss you dearly. Thank you for sharing your time on earth with all of us.