I knew Jason just a little while before he became ill. It was before Linda's 70th birthday party. We had just moved into our new house three doors away on Dataw. As it turned out Mae and I have lots in common with them: medical siblings/parents, love of art, travel, fine food and wine. When Jason finally retired he threw himself into golf and other activities full force, which is how I imagine he did in his many more work years. Some will say, "my, my too bad that Jason just retired, and now he has died; he didn't get a chance to enjoy his retirement". But I know that is folly, as Jason and Linda both enjoyed their work and the rewards it brought all their lives. They seemed to take each day and enjoy it to its fullest, regardless of it being work related, family related, or even for a short time, retirement related. After we knew Jason was ill, an Art Magazine we took ran a feature article entitled "The 100 Top Contemporary Art Collectors in the United States." To cheer Jason up, I hustled over to their back sliding door and banged on it. I said to Jason, "Look Look this is wonderful news!" Jason looked at the article, read every one of the 100 names...and said, "Dennis, what is so wonderful about that?...I am not listed!" and I responded, "well only cause you must be number 101!" to which he laughed and thoroughly enjoyed the moment along with me. In his final days at Dataw, I would "Jason sit", giving Linda a chance to rush out for some diversion and freedom...during those times Jason would sit in his chair and I in mine, and we would talk about whatever was on his mind as his life came to a close; a reality clear to us both, but unspoken between us. Sometimes it would be a momentary pang of anguish about how much resources he had spent on art in his life, how he had lusted after a certain artist's work..."was that wrong?" he would ask. I would ask, "Jason, do you want my opinion"? "Yes, of course" he would softly say and wait. I would respond, "no, it was fine, the only real question now is what do you do with them?"... and he would gently nod, think about the possibilities of what he could do and close his eyes and rest. Another time, he would ask, "What about all the pewter? "What do you mean?", I would say..."What should I do with it?" "Whatever, you want", I would reply. He would take that in, pause and say, "good I will sell it."...and close his eyes. The extraordinary thing about these exchanges was that actually, Jason and I had just met, we were not life long friends, and yet we connected, respected, and cared about each other. So for me Jason Litton, you are a man to cherish for the trust and confidence you shared with me at the end of your journey. Not so usual at all, but as it was, it is truly something for me to cherish forever. Thanks for sharing yourself with me. Dennis Tavernetti