Aristotle says somewhere that courage is the first of the virtues, because it makes the other virtues possible. Dean Barnett was brave–to a degree that perhaps only his beloved wife, Kirstan, and others in his immediate family were able to appreciate. Dean rarely talked about what he had done over the years to overcome his disease, and what he had to do every day to overcome it. But overcome it he did–until it finally cut his life short. Too short. But, as one of Dean’s friends put it, “More life in 41 years than 5 people cram in 80.”

Courage is a severe virtue, and those who have courage are usually serious, often stern. Dean, though, was effervescently witty and high-spirited. He had a most unusual combination of strength of character and lightness of heart. And generosity of spirit. I’ve heard tonight from several people whom Dean had befriended, promoted, and helped. He did so without talking about it or taking credit. Dean wasn’t a softy–he had been a headhunter, and he had good judgment about people–but he was kind and good-natured. And there was nothing petty about him.