Around 2001 Jon and I started  our adventure  and begin teaching people to surf.  We called ourselves Aloha Waveriders!  After a series of our first successful lessons we were driving up 41st Ave. I looked over at John and I think we were both clutching cash in our hands, and at the same time and both kind of welled up with tears! Beside the elation of seeing the pure stoke on the face of a newcomer,  we had actually made some money !!!.....I’ve got to say my God do I ever miss those days of freedom and excitement have a couple of dudes who are truly living the dream .........thank you Jon  Luhn and your family for all your generosity.

 after riding their first wave

Two score and ten
I remember when
First from the womb
Your cry filled the room

It’s a boy they said…

Then sixteen long minutes
At twelve past the hour
Your twin was born--
A steadfast bower

It’s a girl they said…

I felt so lucky, blessed (and relieved!)

Thoughts of Jon as I walked the Los Gatos Creek trail early one morning...

I feel you in the breeze

I hear you in a song

Hold me in your wings

Take me along

With the birds high and far

Within reach of a star that shines bright over all....                                                                                            

In tribute to Jon and his family, here's a poem that I wrote for him one day, while sitting on the beach at 4 mile, waiting for Jon to get out of the water, gosh darn it, and come hang out with me!



I'm in love with a surfer.
Such love cannot last,
for when the surf is good,
it is better than
a thousand soft kisses
from a beautful blue-eyed girl. 



Jon and the Luhn's are often a part of my thoughts. I hope my post contributes to your healing, and your understanding, of both me and Jon. But mostly, I hope that it helps the Luhns and his friends smile and reflect, and be warm and love. 

A phone call, right out of a bolt of blue, a name I haven’t heard for many years, inquiring about some old negatives. I am overwhelmed by a flood of memories for someone I have not seen in many years. When I finally collect my thoughts and call Sandra Luhn, a line from a song Jon introduced me to is reverberating in my head “hoping for the best but expecting the worst”. To say this put a damper on my day would be an understatement. I took me some time to visit his Forever Missed website and even right now I struggle to write this. But here goes…….

When I think of Jon, a myriad of emotions come to surface – some of the best times of my life and some of the most turbulent. To try and summarize or generalize my feelings for Jon during the time I spent with him is a formidable endeavor. Jon was an intense person, hard driving, concise, erudite, witty, warm, affectionate, and quite the charmer (remember this last one). I will start at the beginning, capture some highlights, and the rest will be small anecdotes, all of which left a poignant, indelible mark on my soul.

I first met Jon through my girlfriend, who informed me that the new employee working at the front desk of the Toll House hotel in Los Gatos, a tall, blond, good looking Germanic guy was hitting on her. I confronted him, he was all smiles, asked me if I surfed, and that was it. Four Mile was his stomping ground but we also surfed Steamer Lane, Labs, Davenport, Lumberyards, Waddell Creek, Manresa, Moss Landing, on bigger days (10 to 12ft) Three Mile, and towards the end Ocean Beach in SF. We also made forays south of border. Two stand out.

The only pictures I have of me surfing were taken by Jon at a small left in Popotla, just south of Rosarito Beach in Baja California. Any surfer will tell you it takes a true friend to get to get out of the water when it is breaking 6 to 8 feet top to bottom to take pictures of you. Trust me, it was NOT easy for him, but he did it. The second was a small cobblestone multi-directional break called El Socorrito just south of San Quintin. What made it special is that we had the whole place to ourselves with the exception of a few fishermen. The mornings were spent surfing, the afternoons beachcombing, and later on back in the water for the evening glass off. The day concluded with dinner, reading by the campfire, and long soulful conversations. Jon was sober at this juncture in time and the stories he conveyed about what he was dealing with scared the living sh** out of me. One morning when it was completely flat we dug for clams and ended up with about 40 steamers and 1 humongous pismo. I cooked them up with a little butter, garlic, and lemon juice – by far the best clams I have ever eaten tasting of the ocean and air. My last thought of that trip that comes to mind is stopping just before the border for a couple of burritos and Jon biting down and looking at me with incredulous eyes. I shook my head as in “what?” and he spit out a small rock. “Dude, what the F***! Are you kidding me?” I looked at him, sighed aloud, and stated “Dude, welcome to Mexico”.

Jon and I were kindred spirits beyond the ocean as well. Along with the aforementioned personality traits, Jon and I shared an affinity with the mountains. Both of us learned to ski in Tahoe and then in the early 90’s I spent two winters with him at Steven’s Pass in Washington State. That first winter, I believe January of ’91, within a few days of my arrival, the resort received  2 to 3 feet of fresh powder. Jonathan was ecstatic. We hit it early and hit it hard. It soon became apparent that I was a bit more adept than he was at navigating the steep and deep. Although he complimented me on my style and technique, below the surface he was livid. As most of you know, Jon was fiercely competitive. The following year he invited me back up and proceeded to kick my ass on every medium. I remember him launching insane air, landing flawlessly, skiing up to me with a big smile and saying “It’s your turn”. Yeah, right. This was also the year I went snowboarding for the second time in my life. Instead of wearing surf booties strapped into an edgeless Burton Backhill, we both donned Sorrels and mounted Tom Sims Boards with edges. Needless to say, Jon left me in the dust.

The rest of my memories are small vivid snapshots, firmly ingrained and precious:

Singing his heart out as the frontman for The Winnebagos at the now           defunct Essex Junction (in El Paseo de Saratoga).

Enjoying a “Coit Tower” at North Beach Pizza and espying a cockroach skittering along the wall. I point it out to Jon who immediately whacks it, and then garnishes the rest of our pie with its still twitching corpse. He then flags down our waiter, points out the problem, and we leave without dropping a dime along with a fresh pizza.

Him holding me while sobbing in his arms after seeing my ex girlfriend with another guy at Club Oasis in downtown San Jose.

Waiting for a set to roll in at Four Mile and yelling at me in his broken Mexican accent “Joo know I am a Rippa! Joo know…………….”

Driving over the hill and Jon singing A Victory In Love by Alphaville showing off his dynamic vocal range.

Spending an incredible weekend up in Geyserville, surfing the Sonoma Coast, and preparing a delectable lamb dish for our girlfriends (my wife still has fond memories of that culinary masterpiece).

Simply put, I will miss Jon. We ebbed and flowed on the same wavelength, taking life by the horns and embracing Mother Nature both on land and sea. I can still see that infectious smile, hear that incurable laugh, and feel the poise in his eyes when he was about to take on a challenge. One of my favorite photos that evokes that last statement is a B&W shot of him I took at Four Mile standing on the bluff, eyes scanning the horizon, ready to jump into action. I believe my Photo Journalism teacher, a photographer for the SF Chronicle, used the term “majestic” when she critiqued that picture (I also received an A grade). Jon will always be with me, our spirits inextricably linked. I will miss you my friend……….

 --A stone paver in memory of Jonathan was dedicated, along with 30 others, in the San Francisco Botanical Garden on Saturday, October 22, 2011. The pavers are located around the Fountain Plaza. With loving memories of Jon and much gratitude to the family and friends who helped in achieving this tribute to him, family and a few friends attended the Paver Dedication.  A reading of Jon's poem, "Beautiful Soul Waiting", concluded the ceremony.  It was a perfectly beautiful afternoon in San Francisco--Indian Summer at its best! The serenity and beauty of the Garden fed Jon's soul when he worked as a volunteer gardener each week.-- 

Of all our family members, I probably spent the most time with Jon over the past few years. Mostly at his parents’ home, having a meal, watching soccer or tennis till the late hours of the evening, or sitting outside sharing stories. These are moments that will always be with me.

More than anyone else I have ever met, Jon had this ability or gift of putting himself in your shoes and making you feel at peace.  For me this is something I experienced the first day I met Jon and in most every interaction. But more so than anywhere else, this experience would stand out for me on the ski slopes.

Unlike the entire Luhn family and their cousins, I am not a good skier.  Having picked up the sport in my 30s, I ski with fear and with the goal of not injuring myself. Imagine The Tin Man on skis.  Yes, I’ve taken lessons and still do. In fact, each time we go skiing, I’ll take a lesson to try and get a little confidence. I’ve taken lessons with some of the best professional ski instructors, as well as well meaning family members.

With Jon guiding me on the slopes it was completely different. Those who knew Jon know that he was an incredible skier. He was beautiful to watch – so elegant and graceful.  But for me he was my pacifier. Beyond his skills as an instructor, Jon was able to get in my boots as if he were me. I can’t explain how he did it, just that he somehow he was able to understand where I was as a skier at that very moment, and where my head was, and be able to see what I saw. And then proceed to guide me and show me how to move and feel as if he were actually me.

So each time I go skiing, and it’s been the case for the past 12 years. I tell myself and my wife, how much I wish Jon could be with me. How I wish he could be next to me so I could relax and smile. 

Ah yes, how I wish you were next to me.

MY WEB-FOOTED SON

 
Cherished son so long and lean

 Gliding through the blue green sea

 Sensing where the ocean gathers

 Feeling where the power lies

 Legs rotating and board turning

 As he does the geometry

 And then thrusts his arms and surges to the point

 Where he and the wave become one

 Quick hard strokes until the exhilarating moment

 When he knows the dance is truly started

 And does his graceful moves until the ocean music stops

 But once there came a time when things went awry

 And something created an instantaneous transition

 From this universe to what lies beyond

We can only hope that from that moment onward

 Jon sees before him a never-ending right break

 That he rides in glorious exaltation  

 Until the end of eternity.    

CBHL Sr.  May 2011

I met Jonathan and his family when they moved to Casa Mia -- what, 43 years ago? I'm guessing the twins were one or two years old. Being seven years older than the twins, I loved going to "help" Mrs. Luhn with the babies or hang out with Jennifer. The entire Luhn family was great to be around. As a teenager, I babysat the kids a few times. Our family moved to Boise, ID in April, 1975 -- my junior year.

In the early 80's back in San Jose, I reconnected with the Luhn family and, occasionally, teenage Jonathan babysat my two kids as well as my niece. Chris Jr. and I had some mutual friends and would see each other now and then.

Years went by since I'd seen the Luhn's. In August of 2005, my sister Carol (visiting from Boise) and I drove down the old street and paid a visit on the Luhn's. I remember having a great visit with Chris Sr. and Jonathan. Again, the entire family is always a pleasure.

Fast-forward 5+ years and I get word of a neighborhood reunion BBQ at the Brown's house. My sister Teri and I were delighted to go. It was so fun to see  friendly, familiar faces from childhood. One of those faces was Jonathan. Teri and I had the pleasure of sitting at the dinner table with he and Dionne. We had a great visit and found that Dionne and I shared a connection to Stanford Medical School. J&D gave off such a sweet, warm vibe -- I just adored them both. I will hold onto that memory forever. Four days later, Jonathan rode his last wave.

A shocking reminder of how short life is. Also a reminder of how important it is to take opportunities to visit and reconnect with those friendly, familiar faces.

My love and prayers go out to the Luhn family, Dionne, and all of Jonathan's close friends.

-

P.S. I will be at the gathering on the 21st -- most likely with Teri and Rita. We will be participating in Relay For Life of Blossom Valley (San Jose) that weekend, so they will be in town.

Jon and I were only a part of each other's lives for perhaps a year and a half. We met in an English class at SJSU. Jon taught me a lot about myself, about the multitude of crashing waves that is called, "life," about patience and forgiveness. I am really lucky to have gotten to know him for that brief time.

Jon, I wrote this for you years ago. It's been sitting quietly for too long in the old blue journal you gave me. I'm giving it life today for you and your family. It's called, "Wave." Goodbye, old friend.

i look to him
as he looks to anything
that will point
him home
to the sea
simplicity
peace
to the perfect wave
that peaks
to the twang
of a slow guitar hymn
and breaks with
a rush
that will take him away

I'm Kyle, yet another HS friend of Jon. I was never really a surfer.Back in the day I probably clocked  in as much time as anyone in the surf. I had a board and I loved the speed of the ride (more so skiing as the speed lasts longer) but I felt a disconnect between myself and the wave on a board. I always got back to body surfing. And in Santa Cruz (usu. 26th St) those are sometimes intense body surfing waves. I love the speed but I crave the intensity. This is the point of my story; it speaks to the bond I share with the Looner. 

I here risk wearing my heart on my sleeve - something Jon taught me. And if at anytime I should sound sentimental to the reader that's great - to some I'm speaking a foreign language. The thing Jon and I share that unites us to our depths is a history of substance abuse. I'll endeavor to keep the cliches to a minimum but the God's honest truth is; I wouldn't wish this disease on my worst enemy and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. This history brought me to where I am today and I love where I am today.

I haven't been physically near Jon for years but I feel as close to him right now as any time in my life. I love my people. I can't really speak for what goes on inside another person but it's sometimes described thus: I have an ability to go someplace very very dark. This is afforded to me by a lack of a stopping mechanism. The perfect evening how nice I'll have a cosmopolitan with the boys we'll talk shop have a steak dinner back home to read and off to beddybye. If the stopping mechanism doesn't kick in during that run on sentence you are more likely peein' down the lane screaming at the cats. 

Yea, yea, yea down the wormhole can get super-duper dark. But out the other side it is such a power to draw from. For religious types - a saving Grace. And I just wanted to speak to it as "One of Us (Gabba Gabba we accept you...)" and to shine an honest light on it as it has been alluded to in these remembrances. 

Jon was the first to teach me about honesty in dealing with addictions. We were at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. And he related that he was facing his demons. "Kyle, this is not a very compelling story." No, no, no, wait, You don't get the joke here, we were little kids. This was 1985, I mean who hits bottom before their 18th birthday. I could read the writing on the wall but that isn't the same. Jon told me how he faced it head on and that "shining a light on the truth" went right down to my DNA. That has been the hard patch for me this week so I'll say it here, "Jon, you have no idea the impact you had on me, you helped me so much in that one afternoon. Thank you."

Let's put it in perspective: Tall, handsome surfer, goofball, poet, Singer/songwriter, frontman, brother, uncle, friend, blowit, compassionate, caring, addicted, spiritual, loving, sharing, enthusiastic, community builder, friend, warm smile, genuine, funny, strong, Winnebago brother, (Read above Winnebago remembrance for more superlatives), deep, compelling, loyal... 

Thanks

Ky

As one of Jon's two nieces living in Oregon, I never really got to see much of my Uncle Jon-Jon. Since his death I've been looking at pictures, reading his poetry, and wishing I had the chance to grow up with him as a bigger part of my life. I will always remember the times I did get to spend with him- learning to surf, tossing around a frisbee, watching a soccer game. Little things add up to memories of a man who I wish I had had the chance to spend more time with. I will treasure what I have of him, and wish for more.

Love to Grandma and Da and everyone else who is struggling right now.

I was fortunate to meet Jon through my husband Michael Wong  aka. Wonger, (nickname givin from the  "Mitty surf crew'). Remember times going to watch them surf out at 4 mile..  At that time thats all I knew that Jon loved was surfing and he was awesome. I was always amazed at his height.. I could always see him walking up from either the beach break or just walking around in LG. A tall, handsome man with the best personality. I always felt welcomed around him.. He always was concerned about my life and never bothered by his own when I spoke with him. I know it had been sometime since I saw him.. But  I just have to look in the back of my mind and I can see Jon standing in front of me speaking. You were a geniune man Jon.. I am going to miss you. I am so sorry for the family.. He was a great man.. you were lucky to have had him and thanks for sharing him..

xoxo

- Sina Wong

My Brother Daily

However many days remain uncounted between us
It is the daily idyll
Of this my missing you
That caves in and kicks dirt on
All the old imbroglios
However well they’ve matured
There is this bigger truth I want you to see
I miss those days when you were bigger than me

Jonathan wrote this poem about our close but distant relationship during the last 20 years. Inevitably close as brothers with his unwavering positive and loving view of me. This even in the face of my inability to see past the complexities of his life and struggle with addiction and just see him and communicate with him outside of that struggle. I did as poor a job of that as could be done. In the end my conditional basis for interation with Jon cost me and my family time with him that can now never be recovered. I'm heartbroken and feel small. Jon would hug me and forgive me in an instant. I wish he was here so I could tell him I see a bigger truth now and that my strategy had a fatal flaw.

I met Jon at Mitty high school. Jon was 2 years older then me, and he knew my older sister.  When I was a freshman, I met Jon as we sat next to each other in a typing class.  At first, Jon enjoyed teasing me a bit, being a freshman and all. However, we shared the common bond of surfing, and became friends.  I ended up spending more time around Jon down at 4 mile over the ensuing years then I did at Mitty.  He always gave a genuine inquiry on how life was and we always re-connected even though some of the periods between visits could be years.  Jon's journey through life took different paths but the ocean seemed to ground him and it was clear that the ocean and surfing was Jon's passion. I wont forget Jon's big smile and his sincerity and kindness to me.  I promise to Jon and his family that I will not forget Jon especially when I am at his favorite surf spot. I will also place a memorial to Jon down there so that others can also remember him.  May you rest in peace Jon. Aloha  

I write this in honor of our friend Jonathan Luhn.  

Class of '84 and life long friends with Jonathan Luhn. 

I had the pleasure of Jon being part of my life in a couple of stages. I first met Jon, along with his sister Amy, at Metzler Elementary School. We were in the same class K through 2nd grade. We would hangout and play at recess with a dear friend Joel Kelly. Back then we would get our parents to pack our lunches in wax paper or wax paper bags so we could use it to sit on going down the slides. It would increases your speed dramatically, a start to our love of daring  fetes. With the closure of many schools in the mid 70's we found ourselves going separate ways due to where we lived. 

In 1980/81 we reconnected at Mitty High School. I remember my mom was so excited when she ran into Jon's mom at one of our orientations. She came home saying how happy she was that I could reconnect with a friend from the past. Jon and I would visit with each other through our first year at Mitty but our friendship really grew from sophomore year on. 

I started getting interested in surfing toward the end of 8th grade and our first year at Mitty there weren't to many others with the same interest. As I got to know people at school I became friends with Mike Ng who also was into surfing. When sophomore year started there was a group of guy's in the incoming class that were surfers as well. Brendan, Danny, Greg, and Chris along with Mike and myself were the beginning of the Mitty surf crew. We would do anything to get ourselves to the surf. Juggling rides from our parents or even taking the bus. Then along came Mike Wong, a year ahead of us with a license and a love for surfing as well. We now had a ride almost every weekend and after school as well. While all this was going on Mikey and I had classes with Jon and he would hear our stories. He expressed that he wanted to learn too. After some convincing Jon got the ok from his parents to buy a surfboard of mine, my first board became his first board. He was stoked! Our group of friends grew each year, Chris Cornejo, a long time friend of Mike's returned to Mitty and started surfing as well. With groups within the group I found myself spending time with Chris & Jon. Jon would pick me up at 4:30 or 5:00 am. and we shoot out and grab Corn for a dawn patrol surf followed by skating Derby Park and more surf. Jon was alway's down to give us rides. It was a special time filled with laughter. He loved being with the gang.

Jon was a gentle giant. He truly cared for his friends and would back you up no matter what. There were times when people that didn't know him well or at all would pick on him. I talked with Mike about this a few times and we've come to the conclusion that they were either jealous or felt threatened by Jon's size, good looks, or his happy presence. For some reason these people would want to challenge him. A couple of times I witnessed this, Jon would humbly try to work out the situation but when forced to stand his ground he would stand his ground. I wouldn't have wanted to be on the receiving end of those long arms. He was very strong but you could tell he didn't want to hurt anyone.

There are so many stories of our adventures, since getting the news they keep bubbling up. I was so blessed to have Jon as a friend. The last time I spent time with him I was visiting home with my family. We had a BBQ with a bunch of the gang at my parents house. I'm so glad he got to meet my wife and kids as I make it a point to share with them how important friends like Jon are to me. A true Brother. 

When I first got the news of Jon leaving us, and not to many details, all sorts of things were running through my mind. It may sound wrong but I was relieved to find out the situation. As Jen had state it was a good day for Jon, he was where he loved to be doing what he loved to do. I will cherish our memories, Jon's smile is forever in my thoughts. When I paddle out I'm paddling out with him. I Love You Jon! Until we meet again, Aloha.

Da Boyz 4 Life ~ Sean Ingram

One winter when Jon was ski instructing at Stevens Pass in Washington state I visited he and my cousins to ski for a week. I arrived at the hill mid-day in cloudy weather just after a foot or so of new snow had fallen. Jon immediately grabbed me very excited to take me to a hidden chute to ski untracked powder. First, I was not yet very good at skiing powder and secondly, even though I had been training I was in nowhere near the physical shape of my brother who had been skiing every day for over a month.

It was hard to say no to Jon when he was excited and if you did say no you would miss an adventure. Guaranteed. So, thinking we would just take a lift up and then ski down off I went. However, the top of the lift was just the beginning. I forget exactly who else was with us though I'm pretty sure my cousin Holly's son Ty was there. Anyway, before I knew it we had our skis off and were trudging through foot-deep powder in fog so thick you could barely see more than 20 feet or so. This went on for along time and I was seriously doubting my ability to complete the adventure when it was time to start skiing through trees that alternated between very thick groves and the occasional open space which was big enough for four or five turns in fresh powder.

This went on for a long time and because I was at the end of the line I had very few fresh turns until Jon called to me and pointed to grove of trees and said to ski through them and I would come to a nice spot for a few turns. I of course had no idea where the hell I was but went ahead bumbling through the trees and then sure enough it opened up and I stopped to look through the fog at a nice open spot. Jon came up behind me smiling and and said, "See, I told you it was here!". He skied around the edge of the spot to keep the main part fresh for me. I waited a few seconds, the sun came out for the first time making the snow sparkle like diamonds and I proceeded to make three or four nice turns (for me anyway) in this beautiful spot. By the time I was down to the road, which we then needed to walk up to get back to the resort, I was completely gassed and the sun was gone again.

Jon loved to share the things that he loved with others and was selfless with his time in that regard. Even though he could have skied far more powder in the time he took to guide me to where he knew I could ski untracked snow, it was more fun for him to share. This is a trait he shared with his nephews, Miles and Reid.

I met John at Mitty HS.  I didn't realize it but we are the same age, so it's just shocking to know that his life was cut so short.  John was part of the "Mitty Surf gang".  We all hung out together at the "wall" and talked about the latest events and always around surfing.  Surfing was what brought all of us together and we are still all friends to this day. 

John was always full of life.  He stood out because he towered over all of us and always the kind of guy to be there for you.  Always a positive attitude and willing to do whatever as long as it meant having fun.  I remember we used to call John; "Loon", "Looner", or "Loon Lander".

One time I was heading down to 4 mile beach to surf.  This was a favorite spot for most of us.  It must have been 8am in the morning and while walking down to the beach I see John walking up the path, his hair still wet from surfing, red ring around his neck where his wetsuit met his tan line and I hear someone yell; "Bird"...(we all had nicknames in HS and "Bird" has stuck to this day).  We talked a bit about how good the waves were and John said he had something to take care of and reason for him to get an early session in.  He was so happy to see me there, that he decided to put his obligation aside and spend some time with his friend.  He turned around and headed back down to the beach with me. I asked if it was okay, and he said it can wait, that being here with good friends was more important to him.

I found John to have tremendous character, he was a good person, and I was glad to have met him.  Like I said, he was larger than life and we all really liked him for that.  As we grew up, I would see John from time to time and when we did, he still sported that happy-go-lucky attitude an smile.  He was a real gem, and I'm very sorry for the family and his fiancee.  Rest in Peace John...we won't forget about you.  

-Brendan Moran