One perk of dad’s occupation as a car dealer was that he often let us borrow cars off the lot for our personal use. I had come to the lot one morning to get a car that I planned to take on a road trip down the Kenai Peninsula. The process was taking a while as Dad had his mechanics make sure all the fluids were topped off and that everything was in working order.
Dad and me on another adventure.
I appreciated the safety check but was already getting impatient when Dad said he wanted to show me how to change a flat tire.
Good grief, I thought. I’ll be here all day.
Dad insisted and said, “Just come around to the back of the car and open the trunk.” I expected him to show me tire iron and tell me where to place the jack and how to remove the tire, but what he did instead just floored me.
“Put one hand on the trunk lid and the other on your hip, like this,” he said as he demonstrated a classic ‘come on’ pose. “And then smile as the cars drive by,” he said.
I had to laugh and my impatience melted away and turned into appreciation for the car and his concern for my safety. As he handed me the keys, I gave him a hug and said, “Thanks, Dad.”
As told by Susan at Russ’s wake and edited by Kathy
Russ addresses supporters after winning election to the House of Representatives.
Russ was 22 and an undergrad at the University of Oregon when he first ran for the State House of Representatives. He was next-to-the-youngest person ever elected to the legislature and loved every moment of it. Whenever we had a chance to talk, like when he was home from Juneau for hearings or the legislature was out of session, he always wanted to talk about legislation, the important things that needed doing and the wonderful time he was having. And telling me that I should run for the House, and that I would love it.
I was a working mother of a 3-year-old and knew that few women were elected at that time, and I was pretty sure no mother of a 3-year-old had served. I listened patiently and explained why I thought it was both impractical and impossible. But he persisted and finally convinced me and in his second term He said he would help me with a campaign, and so would our dad, and he eventually convinced me that it was doable, so on the last day of filing I put in my name for a House seat. That afternoon, I went home and saw my name in the newspaper for having filed, but not Russ’s. I called him to tell him of the paper’s error, but he said he’d decided to go back to school and finish up his BA. He said there were a few courses he had not taken, but ‘you’ll do fine’ he said, ‘and since I don’t have my own campaign to run, I’ll have time to work on yours!’
Well, he was true to his word and I was elected, and I did love it. I became a Committee Chair, and that legislative experience impacted my career for rest of my life.
Ten years later, Russ and Nancy Harvey had driven to Boston, and Russ, with his decade of legislative leadership experience, had been accepted at the Kennedy School at Harvard. When he came back to Alaska for spring break, he told me he felt I was missing an opportunity and should apply to the Kennedy School.
By this time, I had 2 kids and was pregnant with a 3rd. While I’d had some political and legislative experience, I knew it didn’t compare to Russ’s. I didn’t believe I would be accepted. And I knew I certainly didn’t have the time it would take to put together an application for graduate school at Harvard. I said it was out of the question. But he insisted, and he said he would take care of the application.
I finally said ‘OK’ and thought it would get him out of my hair. So, Catherine was born, and between my work and a newborn and Conor and Timmy, I only thought about Harvard when Russ needed information for my application or a signature for something. The summer passed. I forgot about it altogether. In late August Russ happened to be at Gramma ‘Del’s when I came by, and he was all in a tizzy. Had I heard anything yet from Harvard? No, for Pete’s sake, I said, it’s August! What are you talking about?
Russ jumped up and grabbed the phone and called the K school. He raised hell with the poor person who answered the phone, yelling about classes starting in a few weeks and the school’s failure to notify a working mother of 3 of her acceptance status. That poor person excused herself to go get an answer, and about 20 minutes later returned to say a letter of acceptance had been written but not mailed yet. I was in. I was in shock.
Russ started barking orders: ‘Pack as much stuff as you can in your car…Nancy’s parents will drive it down to Boston for you. They’ll leave Wednesday. I’ll get them a reservation on the ferry…You’ll need to get time off from work, find a place in Boston – don’t worry, I’ll find you one… you’ll need medical records for the kids, and school records — we’ll have to enroll the boys in school down there…”. And somehow that all happened, and in less than two weeks the kids and I were living in Needham Massachusetts. And I learned that someone else I knew had been accepted at the Kennedy school: Nancy Harvey, and what a wonderful year we had together at Harvard.
As told by Drew at Russ’s wake and edited by Kathy
I remember one summer when we drove across country from Massachusetts to Alaska on a stopover in Juneau, my dad passed a man on the street. This person did a doubletake as we walked by and then shrieked with exuberance, “Is that THE Russ Meekins?”
At times Aunt Susan would tell us stories from their childhood about the larger-than-life circumstances my dad found his way into and out of. Riding s moose through the neighborhood, driving a car before his feet could reach the pedals, surviving the Great Alaska earthquake. The stories seemed unbelievable and certainly not possible for the heroic, brave, ingenious person who was about to become my father. I couldn’t be so lucky.
Drew and his partner,Jacob
When I was a child, my dad’s desire to be the ideal father was evident in all he did. Night after night he told Kyle and me bedtime stories. He never ran out of well-thought-out plots that linked revolving characters together. It always amazed me how he did this and how he very strategicly kept us glued to every word, eager for the next night’s bedtime story.
After my basketball games, many of which my dad coached, he would always take me to Dunkin Donuts, no matter what. He loved the plain glazed ones and so did I. What I loved more and even more than playing basketball were the conversations we had on the way home from the games, debriefing the games and literally everything else going on in the world, with our box of donuts on the armrest between us.
There wasn’t a car ride my dad didn’t love, whether we were crisscrossing the country on I-90 or I-95 or just driving around Wellesley on a Sunday after church. Tess and Kyle and I regarded our dad to be the best driver in the world with 100% confidence. And my dad was the captain of the car and it was his platform to tell us pertinent thoughts he had at that moment.
My dad found so much passion and purpose in his work as a consultant. He worked hard but he shared the fruit of his work even harder. He was thoughtful, strategic, driven, and gentle. He could be soft spoken at times and also command a room in an instance if he desired. He was smart, strong-willed, angry at those who hurt others, but never ever mean. However, if there was one trait about him that spoke the loudest, it was his generosity. My dad gave advice, encouragement, skills, and resources to all he encountered.
On the many family vacations, we took to Disneyworld, my dad frequently invited friends of mine and my siblings to join. Insisting that they come. They were family to him, too, and he desired to make their lives a little better when he could. And so, on that note, nothing was spared in making the trips as enjoyable and memorable as possible. He gave out room charge cards to ten-year-olds. And endless Mickey Mouse shaved treats and of course my dad’s unyielding ability to stand in line after line despite the fact that I’m sure he hated lines almost as much as he hated roller coasters.
When I was 12, my dad insisted that the time I spent running behind the bleachers at Babson college while my sister took group lessons could be spent in a better way. He was right. 23 years later I’m still on the ice because of his thoughtfulness. At 18, he gave me access to his credit card for emergencies (laughs). He didn’t know my lack of new outfits as going to be considered an emergency when I recently discovered life on Newbury street. Yet, despite the hundreds of dollars I spent, he never once complained or even mentioned it to me.
Coming out to my dad was hard for me to do because I had heard so many horrific stories about my friends coming out to their fathers and the anger, ridicule and even rejection that followed. I was scared to do it and as time passed, my dad and I entered a very awkward stage where we both knew the other person knew. My dad was quiet about the things he didn’t know about. And although there weren’t many topics he didn’t know about; this topic was one of them. So, one night while driving home together in the car, in his own way of acknowledging what we both already knew, he very casually and warmly invited me and my boyfriend to his wedding to Nancy. He not only let me know that I was welcome and whoever I loved was welcome also.
My dad gave me my logical mind, he taught me how to strategize for anything, including how to shoot the moon in Hearts. I also got my goofy, silly side from him to help me find balance between all the planning. He taught me about hard work, fighting for what is right, and so much about politics. He gave me my blue eyes, my big calves, and my athletic prowess. I only regret not getting his beautiful curly hair. He taught me to be generous and how to play chess. And he still beat me up to the day he died. He gave me my love of pancakes and of course, bacon. My dad gave all that he could to me and all that he met.
In the last decade of his life, my dad took on a new passion: golf. He loved to play, and he did so almost every day. My siblings and I have all played with him and bought him all the gadgets that we could. I had no interest in golf, but a deep interest in seeing my dad do something for himself that he loved. As Kyle told you guys, he played golf that morning and he won the day and birdied his last hole. Although I know he would have loved to play another round, he made the most of all the rounds he played up including the last one, just as he did in his life.
As told by Catherine at Russ’s wake and edited by Kathy
I didn’t get to spend as much time with Russ as I would have liked to, and of course, he was always open-armed, and he loved me like I was one of his own kids. One year, 1995, I came down to Boston for some reason and I was staying with the whole Meekins clan, and Cameron, you were about 2. And we were driving in you guy’s Suburban and some Sarah McLaughlin song comes on and you started howling. You hated it. And Russ says, “This kid loves music. I tell you what. This kid is going to be a musician. He knows so much about music already. I mean he knows what he likes and what he doesn’t like. I mean, this kid is going to be a musician.”
I don’t know if Russ willed that to be true or, you know, had a sixth sense, but he sure put his money on the right horse, Cam. I just remember riding around in that Suburban. I don’t even remember where we were going but I remember “He’s going to be a musician!”
These stories capture short incidents that don’t amount to full-blown stories, but are still repeated in the family
On vacation when Elissa and Gregor were young, I let them get a treat out of a vending machine. When they returned they were very excited and started bouncing on the bed. I asked them what they got. Gregor got Reese’s Peanut butter cup and Elissa answered excitedly, “I got Fancy Amose.” Of course, she meant Famous Amos Cookies, but her error made me laugh so hard tears came to my eyes. And even the thought of the occasion today makes me smile.
As told by Kyle and Cameron at Russ’s wake, edited by Kathy
Cousins Deder, Elissa, Drew, Kyle, Tessa, Conor, Gregor at Kyle’s wedding rehearsal dinner.
Kyle: One time I was playing golf with my dad and he was applying sunscreen to his arms because he had finally gone to a skin doctor who told him he needed to start using it. He swung the club on his next shot, the club flew out of his hands and he just screamed, “God damn sunscreen! I’d rather have cancer!” And then the next minute, it was just, “Hey, hand me a ball,” as if nothing else had happened. I believe at that moment that he would rather have had skin cancer than have that club fly out of his hands.
Cameron: Russ was the most intelligent person I’ve ever known, the most generous person and the most memorable and certainly most loud person I’ve ever known. One time we were driving home from playing golf and something sad was playing on the radio. As we drove down the road with the top down and he slammed the radio button and said, “I don’t want to listen to sad music. Music is supposed to make you happy. I can’t stand sad music. I HATE sad music.” And then two seconds later he asked me what we wanted to do for lunch in a completely different tone.
As told by Tessa at Russ’s wake and edited by Kathy
Russ and Tessa (age 4)
When I was probably – I couldn’t have been older than 8 or 9 – and I had a strong desire to do a 20-mile charity walk. I demanded that we participate and of course, Russ was behind me all the way and helped me sign up different sponsors. He really was so great at making it special. He, of course walked by my side. We got to about mile seven and, you know, I’m a 9-year-old, so that’s a lot of steps for me and at that point he just had to carry me. So, he proceeded to carry me on his shoulders for the remaining miles but never protesting and I think that really sums him up. In my eyes, he was just so generous and so supportive with all of his children. Whatever passions they had, whatever they wanted to do, Russ supported them with his full heart. I think he did that not only for his kids but for so many people he encountered.
you guys know that I moved out to the East Coast in 2004 and it started with just a summer. After school got out, I was going to come out for the summer and had first started by talking to Nick and then to Kyle and then talking to Russ. And they were all, you know, “Yeah, come on out.” And “We’ll get you a job.” Well, you know: “It will be fun. We’ve got room in the house and everybody’s here.”
So, I was pretty hyped up when I got there, and it was pretty much non-stop action with Russ and all of you and all the sports events. Russ took us to games and all sorts of other activities. As it settled down, Russ told me, “I’ve got a job for you. I need a personal assistant.” I thought, OK, this sounds good. So, he starts describing the job. “I just need help with some things, odd jobs and tasks, and things.” Alright, no problem, Russ. So, I wrote down some of the assignments Russ gave me that I think you’ll find humorous. I certainly did. And this is by no means an exhaustive list.
One of the assignments was to procure a foosball table and an air hockey table and to make sure they were arcade quality. “I don’t want a piece of junk,” he said. “I want the real air hockey table that you get at the arcade. I want the real one.”
So, I found this place in Natick or somewhere that had this showroom of pool tables and arcade games. I went there and found a couple of different machines for sale. These things weren’t cheap. I called Russ and asked, “Which one do you want to get, Russ?” And he says, “I don’t know. Just get the best one that they have!” So, I got the best one that they had. There was almost an identical story with a stereo system.
Russ just wanted to beef up the stereo system they had in the front room. So, I went to one of these stereo shops. You can spend $1000 or you can spend $50,000. So, I found some system and asked Russ how much he wanted to spend. He said, “Get something good, really good.” So, I got it and had it installed.
You might have heard about Russ going to Foxwoods (Casino). He went to Foxwoods a lot and he had this VIP status and sort of hotline that he could call and make reservations. So, instead of calling the hotline, he would call me and tell me what he wanted, and I would call the hotline. So, I was Russ’s ‘concierge Foxwoods’. He would call me up and say, “Can you get me a reservation for Thursday night, and then we might want to stay Friday night. I’m not sure. See what they have. I want a corner suite…” etc. I would write this all down and make all the reservations for him.
There was another time when he told me that his car needed an oil change – the BMW Z8. He said to drive down to Framingham or Natick where there is a BMW dealership. I was really surprised that he wanted me to take, you know, the Z, because it’s a very expensive car. So, I get in and drive it down there. I didn’t have a reservation or an appointment or anything. He said, “You don’t need an appointment. As soon as you get there, they will just roll out the red carpet for you.”
So, I take it down there and the guy says, “It doesn’t need an oil change. It only has 1,000 miles since the last oil change.” So, I call Russ to tell him it doesn’t need an oil change and he says, “Yeah, I know. I just wanted you to take it for a drive.” So that was the kind of guy that he was. He barely knew me, really, at this point and let me to take the car.
Some of the other assignments – and by the way, I was getting paid for this. He had a standing order on a couple of things. One was to make sure we were stocked up on Grey Goose. Another one was cigars. At the time, there was a place that if you talked to the right guy, they had Cuban cigars. That was an adventure and a story in and of itself, but they did have Cuban Cigars if you talked to the right guy. The other was to make sure that the hot tub was in tip-top shape at all times.
[Kyle: So, Gregor and I would kind of destroy things and then Russ would pay Gregor to fix them.]
Well, in fact, on my list here is one of the examples of that. We had broken a window and then one of my assignments was to fix the window that Kyle and I had broken. So that was something I was paid to do.
At one point I was going grocery shopping getting stuff for all of us and Russ said, “Get a whole bunch of paper towels. I don’t ever want to run out of paper towels ever again.” And then he added that he thought paper towels were one of the best inventions of the twentieth century. So, I got a whole lot of paper towels, as many that could fit in the car.
So, I’m 22 and Cameron was 12 and Russ decided that all of this work was maybe a little burdensome for me, so he informed me that he had hired Cameron as my assistant. I was Russ’s assistant and Cameron was my assistant. I thought this was great because this was overwhelming, you know, the paper towels, the Z8 oil change, this was really becoming overwhelming. So, Cam was tagging along with me. We’d drive around and buy chemicals for the hot tub and cigars…
[Cam: not to mention he would let you drive the M5 as the company car.]
Yeah, that was the working vehicle, the BMW M5. So, Russ wanted to get the driveway repaved and I was thinking this was a good task to outsource to Cameron. So, I told Cam, We need to get the driveway repaved. Can you take care of this?”
[Cam: I was 12. I was 12.]
At 12 years old he found a place, called the people, and got the driveway repaved. We had been out of town and when we pulled up we saw that driveway was repaved. Russ was more excited than anyone about a repaved driveway! It was the most incredible thing he had ever seen. I wondered, who are these people that would talk to a 12-year-old on the phone and do a $5,000 driveway repaving? But he did it.
{Cam: Shoutout to Bev Laqua Paving, by the way, for paving my dad’s driveway.]
So, these are just a few funny stories. But the moral of the story is, here was Russ and like the stories that Deder and Conor told, he was just finding a way to help me out. He was just creating these jobs and finding a way to give me money and make it fun along the way. There are many, many stories like that, but I’m just eternally grateful for not just these fun times but for the good advice he gave me. He encouraged me to get my MBA. I don’t know if I would have done that. I was kind of on the fence. And you look back and you’re just so glad that you took the plunge on these things and did them because Russ would always say, “When it comes to education, you’ve got it forever. No one can ever take that away from you. That’s something you can never lose.” He was really big on that. So those are a few of the stories I wanted to share.
As told by Susan at Russ’s wake and edited by Kathy
July 9, 1953 Mt. Spurr eruption
July 9, 1953 was a beautiful, warm summer day. I was 6 ½ years old, Barb was 5, Russ 4, and I think Kathy was about 2. Gramma ‘Del gathered us up to go down the street so she could visit with her friend Rose Palmquist. Mom took Kathy with her into the house to visit with Mrs. Palmquist and sent the three of us out to play in the backyard with Michael Palmquist.
Now Michael was about 10 years old, and we kids knew him to be the neighborhood bully. He had built a treehouse in the back yard, which to us was kind of high and scary, and he asked us to climb up into the treehouse. When we got up there, he pulled out a knife, and told us we were going to have to jump to get down. We refused, and he insisted, and the argument continued until we saw something strange falling out of the skies. It couldn’t be snow – this was July, after all — and it really didn’t quite look like snow, but it had us all mystified and more than a little freaked out.
As we stared and worried about what was falling from the skies, little Russ took quietly started down the ladder before Michael could catch him. He ran across the yard, into the house and told Mom about the knife. She came running out to the yard, and I can’t remember quite what she said, but when she saw what was coming from the skies, she gathered us up and we all hurried home.
It turns out the mysterious stuff falling from the skies was volcanic ash from Mt. Spurr across the Inlet, and by noon, it was dark as midnight. By the next day, the ash was 6 inches deep all over town, and the worst ashfall in Anchorage history. I’m not likely to forget that volcano. And I will never forget little Russ, as hero, scrambling down that ladder to get help.
One Saturday morning, Moira decided to make a SINGLE exception to her rule of never using public transportation (why Metro when you can walk?) and went to visit her friend, Severin, for brunch in Arlington. Though just three metro stops away, Moira considers anywhere in Virginia to be another planet, and this was her one – and only – trip to the Commonwealth.
After a wonderful brunch, she walked back to the Courthouse metro station to wait for a train to take her back to the District. While waiting, and staring absent-mindedly at a Metro map, another train arrived coming from the other direction. Passengers disembarked, but one of those passengers stopped as he was walking by her, and stood looking at her for a few moments. When Moira realized she was being watched, she turned and asked, “Do I know you?”
At this moment, Greg, who had been fervently trying to figure out why he recognized Moira, came out of his dazed state, and said, “Yes… I think so?”
Moira reflected for a moment on whether or not she recognized this man, decided that she did not, but simultaneously decided he was VERY cute and extremely well dressed, so she pursued the conversation. Greg asked many questions to try to discern how they might know each other, but to no avail. They did not, it transpired, know each other at all.
Moira, not wanting to let this cute guy go without at least finding out his name, extended her hand and said, “Well, I’m Moira, and it’s nice to meet you.”
And that’s when Greg had the worst moment of his life. Because he realized, on hearing her name, that this was a girl he had “met” on OkCupid several months ago. They had exchanged cute, flirty messages, and even scheduled a date! And eight minutes before the date was set to happen, with Greg sitting at the tea shop ready to meet his future wife… she canceled. And never rescheduled, despite several attempts on Greg’s part to do so.
Greg was mortified that he had just made conversation with this woman, who, in his mind, clearly didn’t want anything to do with him, hurriedly introduced himself and said that they had exchanged messages on OkCupid a while back, and then left to let Moira catch her oncoming train.
Beffudled, Moira went back through her old messages, and lo and behold, there he was! A cute guy, with erudite and witty messages, whom she had booked a date with and then canceled at the last minute! What was she thinking?! Now she had met him and knew what she was missing! Immediately she messaged him to ask for a reschedule.
But it was not to be. By then, Greg was seeing someone else, and they were ships passing in the night. They still met up for a platonic cup of tea, during which Moira fell head over heels for him, but knew that nothing would come of it, and tried to move on.
Then, many months later, Greg called Moira to ask if she would still be interested in getting a drink. She said of course, and they went out together a few times, but their dates seemed to lack chemistry, and ultimately fizzled. Alas, it seemed that they were not going to make it after all.
Eight months in the making, Greg and Moira had their “official” first date later that week in June, and both knew then that they had found their perfect match. When Greg kissed Moira while walking home down 14th Street, she knew it was her last first kiss
These stories capture short incidents that don’t amount to full-blown stories, but are still repeated in the family 
Meekins Family Stories 