William Rivers Pitt

Published: June 1, 2023 — Thursday

William Rivers Pitt is dead.

William Rivers Pitt is dead. Most people who read those words will have no context for what they mean. Most people will think a man is dead, and that is that. Perhaps he left a family behind — children? A spouse? Parents? Friends? They may think that this man will no longer be able to do his job. That his assets will need to be divided (or overseen) by his loved ones. That his children will need to be cared for. That his friends, family, and others will lovingly remember him.

They will have no idea what those five words — assembled in a sentence in that particular way — means for our world, our society, our country, our freedom, our engagement in the political process, and our patriotism.

William Rivers Pitt is dead.

I am still in shock.

I cannot believe this has happened.

I cannot fathom the depths of this loss.

For me. For my family. For my husband. For our community. For the United States. For the world.

My heart is broken.

More than eight months have gone by since he passed away and I still cannot process this loss.

It feels greater than the loss of my first pregnancy. It feels greater than the loss of my mother. It feels greater than the loss of anyone I have ever loved.

It is too painful.

William Rivers Pitt is dead.

Here — today — I write this over and over again trying to convince myself, trying to make myself believe it’s actually true.

A Profoundly Personal Loss

When William died I made my social media profile picture black and I haven’t yet changed it back. My friend Matt keeps telling me I have to change it back because it is unprofessional and people won’t know why it is black. For me, I just can’t bear to change it. Every time I see my black profile picture circle I am reminded of William, of the gift he was to our world, and of the empty hole left in the world with his passing.

William was an artist, a journalist, a wordsmith, a humorist, a historian, a poet, and a beacon of hope and light. He was also a source of profound insight into the human condition. William was a translator of sorts — interpreting and providing human context for important big topics (for us normal humans) and helping us understand, then interpret the impact of the actions of our politicians (individually and our government as a whole) on our lives and society.

William and I had never met in person (how often do we say that these days!) but we had spoken on the phone and exchanged quite a few messages on social media. William had interviewed me for two articles he did for TruthOut. I also worked with him on occasion to connect him with sources (people to interview) for pieces he was working on. He returned the favor and connected me with his best friend to see if his friend could support my childhood Lead poisoning prevention advocacy work. That friend did just that — supporting the work in ways I couldn’t have imagined was possible before connecting with him. I contributed to William’s work when I could (in any way I could) and I often shared about his work with others so they could experience even just a glimpse of his genius.

He had (just before unexpectedly passing away far too young) agreed to do a video-chat interview with me for my YouTube channel.

We never got the chance to do that interview.

I was so thankful for my connection with William — in a way that went far beyond the words he wrote in the articles and books he published. 

I considered him a friend. 

William was also a coach to me in a way. He was generous with his time — especially in support of others exposing truth. I ran stories I was writing by him. He — many times — gave me guidance (and connected me with other journalists) when I was working on an issue that I felt strongly needed to be covered by the media. He was honest. He repeatedly encouraged and inspired my writing (about some of the more profound concepts I have written about over the years) but he also reminded me to never forget about corporate greed (the bottom line always comes first) and the corporate influence over almost all media in the United States, plus how that control over the media will always limit honest coverage of work that challenges corporate interests (including — and especially — the kind of work I do).

His coaching reinforced my already healthy skepticism of mainstream media and pushed me to find other ways of getting the word out (about childhood Lead poisoning and consumer goods safety) in a way people would listen. In a way that would make an impact.

In our writing, we shared the need for the words we publish to be 100% free of corporate interest and influence. I confided in him and sought his advice when my work got political and scary — including when I was illegally arrested for crimes I did not commit, or when I was deciding to sue the Oregon Department of Justice and the State of Oregon for violating my civil rights.

He (perhaps more than anyone) appreciated my work with Bernie Sanders and the fact that I had interviewed Noam Chomsky for my film. The moment I found out William passed away, the first thing I did was email Noam to ask if he had heard the news. He had.

I think these many mutual connections forged a basis of respect even though the topics we each wrote about were so drastically different and even though my readership audience (mostly young mothers) was very different from his. The Phish connection was fun too — I really hoped someday he would meet Jon; I think they would have had an amazing conversation.

We came from similar backgrounds, too. We were just about the same age (he was two years younger than me, almost exactly). We had also come of age in the same part of the world (he grew up in Newton, MA and I grew up in Hingham, MA). We went to different high schools, but I used to date boys from his high school all the time ;-). In many ways, he felt like a brother to me. Part brother, part respected colleague, part fellow journalist. A friend.

A Loss for the World

William was a journalist who wrote about difficult, complicated, profound, complex subjects in the vernacular of his peers (with cultural references and points of humor that struck home every time). Every sentence he crafted was so well thought out and insightful and so incredibly well written. It’s embarrassing to try writing about someone who was such an amazing writer. If you have not read anything he has written, please look back through the archives of TruthOut or read one of his books.

As was the case for many after William passed away (September 26, 2022), I have been at a loss for words. I haven’t felt that anything I could say would make a difference for anyone — nor that anyone would be interested in reading it. I decided to write this today as a way of sharing that — eight months later — William has not been forgotten. He will not be forgotten ever. It is our job as citizens to carry his torch forward and forge a better world for future generations. We need to make sure his daughter grows up in the best possible world — if we have any say in the matter. We need to be engaged citizens,  engaged with our whole soul and spirit, whatever that means for each of us personally. When we die we want to have lived every day as engaged and plugged into the conversations of “being a citizen” and “contributing to the world” as William was up to his very last day.

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And with that, I will leave you with two photos. The first is William’s most iconic photo (of his daughter Lola as a baby), which he shared when profound things happened. The second is William with his daughter Lola several years ago. Please search online for “William Rivers Pitt” to learn more about him, his work, and his contributions to our society. If, once you learn more about William, you would like to contribute to the GoFundMe created for his daughter, here is that link.

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