to send condolences, click here. updated Sunday, July 6, 2008


    The loss of John and Gary is a terrible blow, especially when victory in our common struggle to save and uplift the world is within reach. That is the work for which each of them spent  their "talents," as the Gospel puts it. Their lives speak far more eloquently than any words can.

    Both Gary and John were tuned in their souls to this great struggle for good. They both had an "ear" for every turn in the political situation that presented an opportunity.

   When I was in prison from 1993-2000, I often spoke to John when I called in for briefings. He was always correctly, relentlessly upbeat and optimistic. He was always excited about what he was learning, and enthusiastic about the ways to put it to use, and further develop his mental powers. He was emphatically "alive from the neck up."

   Gary was one of the most determined fighters I have known. He persevered in performing in difficult situations, despite his health problems. He was eager to learn anything, which could develop his mind. He revealed his mind to us in his art, as well as his political work.

Both these extraordinary individuals will be sorely missed.

Anita Gallagher
Leesburg, Virginia

Three Songs in Memory of John and Gary

Michael Steger wrote this, and I would like this to be shared with everyone:

"This life is brief, and when God's great finger whisks, as a master's brush, soft away those amongst us, and so quickly, that a blinking eye seems like long eternity, here then, all fair hearts are touched with a sense of goodness and gratitude of the time thus given.  And we do pray, and love, and laugh of our own delusions, and see the sunrise, not forsaken, but as a gift to cherish, humbled by the sacrifices of bold unknown persons, champions of a noble race, to which we ourselves belong."

Michael and I had the good fortune to get to know both John and Gary.  John, in California, with his big grin and brisk walks through the office, starting up animated discussions in the halls with the youth; and Gary, in Chicago, with his feet up on the desk, organizing amidst his beautiful works of art.  As this is a shock to us both, we intend to continue their dedicated missions in life.

Warmest Regards,
My-Hoa Steger

  I'm at a loss which words cannot fill an empty void in losing such close friends. 

    Gary, who was a trouble maker who enjoyed starting arguments and would always start egg you on so he could get to laugh at the chumps doing the arguing. I'll miss him saying "this place is a gold- mine!"

     John Morris My old roommate in Pittsburgh, overlooking the scenic Mon river. Pittsburgh was the place that I began organizing. This is where I met John and the crew back in 1985 and we organized together in Pittsburgh 'til 1998, when he moved back to California and I moved to Baltimore. I can never forget his uplifting words of encouragement and his bright smiles, and his beer and wine making. I can make this longer, but to be honest it does hurt thinking about the good times that we shared the thirteen years that we were together. I can only give one minute of silence in your memory.

Charles Phelps 

Gary was so kind to Nancy and myself when we first moved to New York City. Back in January, 1981, he went out of his way, on a busy schedule, to invite us for dinner, and entertain us royally. This from a man who we had never had any dealings, except that we had worked in different cities for years trying to save this country and our civilization. But that, we came to learn, was Gary's innate kindness - a kindness that went without saying. Gary, when we think of you, we hear "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" – and what you've done with your time on earth will certainly keep marching on.

David & Nancy Shavin

John Morris is a true patriot of his country and a treasure of humanity. I first had the opportunity to be acquainted with him when I read the article titled "José Rizal and the Challenge Of Philippines Independence" by which he authored.  That article has created a big impact on the history of the Philippines as he, for the first time, was able to find the link between our nation's national hero and the great German poet Friedrich Schiller.

 Truly, his life is an example of a great historian, writer, and patriot. His motive in writing is to unleash the hidden truth and make people realize the power and beauty of Reason. That particular piece and other great contributions he made will surely be remembered, not just by the Filipino people, but by humanity as a whole

I extend my most heartfelt condolences to the family and friends of John. And even I don't personally know Gary, I express my deep condolences as well to his family and friends. Both of them had useful lives consecrated to a great ideal. Their souls are like a stone becoming a part of an edifice of Truth Justice and Beauty.

Marlou Mumar
Philippine LaRouche Youth Movement

Philippine LaRouche Society and the Philippine LaRouche Youth Movement extend the deepest condolences to Hal and Barbara Morris.

PLS and the PLYM had the honor and pleasure to have met and worked with John. His passion in studying the Philippines--the nation's national hero, and the lineage of the 1950s Philippines to the American FDR tradition--made him so dear to us. PLYM has first known him for his article "Jose Rizal and the Challenge of the Philippine Independence," and since then, gave us radio interviews over the Philippine nationwide radio discussing lofty ideas, which he unearthed through his study of Rizal's work and its relation to Schiller, which Rizal writers and historians, Filipino or of different nationality, have entirely missed. Lofty ideas that also gripped John in joining the LaRouche Movement, ideas that he shares to us all Filipinos and the rest of the world, which are necessary tools to have to save civilization.

John's death is such a great loss. He will truly be missed, and he will be forever in our hearts.

Jose Rizal and the Challenge of the Philippine Independence

The terrible news about John and Gary and the shock of that first moment has not worn off. The whole world has lost two great soldiers of truth.

They will be sorely missed.

Karen and I will personally miss their zeal and constant habit of being pedagogical at any moment. We have had our views of the world challenged or strengthened by their teaching and example.  

Our condolences to their families are given with sincere feelings of sadness, but we also rejoice in the fact that we worked with and knew both of them and that they made a difference.

The world could use a few thousand more like them in these perilous times.

- Gene and Karen Roberts

Berlin, Germany June 19th

In memoriam John D. Morris

John will always be remembered for his unwavering optimism, his humor and his sense of undying patriotism for the USA we all are fighting to save. As a very new recruit in February 2002, on my first visit to the Los Angeles office of the LYM, John was most prominent amongst those who immediately made me feel welcome and at home in this movement. His curiosity, it appears to me, would seek out historical intersections heretofore unknown to us, such as in his research and inspiring enthusiasm for his work on José Rizal, and his love of and connection with our own poet of freedom, Friedrich Schiller.

Every time I would encounter him here in europe he would bring a breeze of fresh american air, to uplift us and provide necessary strength in our efforts to overcome the worst of european oligarchism. Always he would look to the Youth Movement as the beacon of the future and with great humor mock the shortcomings of the Baby Boomer Generation, in warning us and inspiring us to overcome the culture we were raised in. Every time he was in Europe on a security rotation, he would seek out opportunities to organise in the streets, and to impart that american spirit to the population also.

He will be missed greatly and his life will be remembered by all who shared even the smallest part of it, due his infectious love of life and of the historical meaning of his own.

As he and I spent a week together on night-shift over Christmas and New Years 2006, he was working on his project to unearth the German-American Patriot Baron Johann DeKalb. I see his work in this matter as a great contribution to unearthing the republican traditions of my own country and its role in the success of the Revolution, of which we are much in need today. Thank you John, for that.

The enthusiasm he showed and shared for the American Revolution prompts me to dedicate this poem on the Death of General Joseph Reed (the author is unknown to me) in my inability to otherwise express the sense of loss his death leaves us with.

It is upon us the living to renew our dedication to this effort in the knowledge we are always in the hands of our creator for him to take us back to him, when he sees fit.

John, I will miss you.

Alexander Pusch

My condolences to all of John Morris's family and friends and to all the members of the LaRouche movement who had the privilege of knowing him. I was one of those who knew him and I feel very fortunate for that. I like him. I like his spirit and his good sense of humor. I only met him when I started going to LA, where he was living then, some five or six year ago, so it was not a long time. But we started talking and he was very enthusiastic about his research and historical work on Jose Rizzal and the Philippines.  Rizzal happens to have been educated in Spain and the histories of Spain and the Philippines are closely related. Since I am from Ibero America (Mexico) John thought I was a good person to talk to. Whenever he happened to be here in Leesburg, he always stopped by  to say `Hi' and talk about his new discoveries.

His death is totally untimely; but the few years he had here with us were productive. Now, he's by God's side and someday we'll reunite again.

God bless you all

My deepest condolences,

Cruz del Carmen Cota- Wertz

To the families and friends of John Morris and Gary Genazzio:

While we did not have much contact with John and Gary over recent years, we both knew them, and mourn their loss. John always seemed to have a sunny smile, and friendly hello; Gary’s great artistic talent was well-known to us all, especially for his beautiful and insightful portrait of Indira Gandhi. He would sometimes write to me about my art reviews, and I greatly appreciated his views.

That both were heroes, and courageous fighters for humanity will be said many times, and it should be. It is especially poignant to note that these were unsung heroes, in light of all the recent hoopla that over the death of some television personality, whose contributions to our nation are less than trivial in comparison. The immortal gifts to civilization given by John and Gary over their too-short lifespans, exceed those of many more famous and celebrated lives.

We will all miss them both more than we can say.

Our deepest condolences,

Bonnie & Fletcher James
Leesburg, Virginia

        God Bless You, John Morris


Among the many friends I have had the privilege of meeting in the Movement, John was special. His untimely demise will be a sad and lamentable loss to many Filipinos who have heard him on radio, and benefited from his wise and refreshing outlook on our national hero.  John skillfully presented Jose Rizal in a way that no historian known to us has ever done. Needless to say, the LYM has been so inspired  that they now see Rizal not merely as a revolutionary who fought oppression,  but one whose  articulated principles were universal, and inspired by Schiller, Leibniz, and certainly most, if not all, of those whom we too are currently learning about.

 I have not had the opportunity of meeting John personally, because my short and rare visits to Leesburg could not coincide with his. But we in the Philippines developed a special affinity for him largely because of his special affinity for the Philippines. I remember asking him why he decided to write about Rizal, Sen. Claro Recto, and Salvador Araneta. His answer was that he had bumped into a Filipino writer, Sionil Jose, now based in LA, and was advised to do research on Jose Rizal. And as he did, whatever he discovered led him to dig deeper and deeper. Understanding that our country's destruction was a process, his was to educate our people to recognize the ugly hand of the Synarchists in our recent history, and their role in destroying a people most influenced by the American system of political economy.

We don't know much about the good John has done for others. But we do know that in his own unique, efficient and special way, he has planted in the minds of members of the Philippine Larouche Society, and all who are influenced by us, a higher level of appreciation of the ideas which motivated our Patriots. By his example, he has shown our LYM, the value of diligent research, complemented by extraordinary insight based on universal principles. By his leadership and initiative, he has shown us what it means to promote the general welfare, to do good for the benefit of others, and to do it with humility. God bless you, John Morris.   

 Butch Valdes
Philippines LaRouche Society

Rising Above the Storms

Today came a revelation of the passing of two distant friends, John Morris and Gary Gennazio. What seems to be finality has opened a window of sublime reflection.

That reflection is not one of tragedy, but of the lives of people who give themselves to humanity. At this truly sad end of their physiological beings, there is comfort in knowing there is no end to their lives work. Their participation and contribution of reason to their fellow man will triumphantly overshadow their sacrifices.

John and Gary, as with many in the LaRouche movement, summoned the will to rise above the plentiful storms of adversity and, like rain, showered the world with the knowledge they had gained so that it may continue to flourish. That will, that knowledge, and that reason remain.

My condolences to both families and all who knew them.

Christine Sayre

I would like to send my condolences to John's family and friends.

I met John for the first time in 1997, during a visit to the US. He invited me to one of his famous tastings of his own wines, and we have been friends ever since. I was visiting the United States from Italy, and I was immediately struck by his kindness, his sense of humour, and his profound knowledge about Italy, its wines, its food, its culture, its art songs, which he later sang for us in Europe, and also of Italian language. It was precisely thanks to his Italian teacher in Philadelphia, he told me, that he learnt to produce his wines, his famous "Borollo" (Barolo) and many more. As an Italian, I learnt from him to make a good Tiramisu and manicotti. But during our years long friendship, exchange of mails and his short visits to Germany, I learnt much more than that. He was always available when some friends or colleagues were in trouble, and at our traditional Musikabende (music evenings) at Lotta's place in Wiesbaden he would not only sing for us Italian art songs, but also share his years long experience in the organizing in the US, he would encourage us to do better, to overcome difficulties. His openess and kindness gave him many friends also in Europe. But he also liked to argue and fought for his ideas. We made often jokes about "lightning a candle to the Madonna of the trouble makers", to which we were proud to belong, and he also told me all about the tactics of Vince Lombardi. Some weeks ago, when I congratulated him on his birthday, he wrote me "I am one year older and wiser". I would have never thought that this would be my last birthday wish for him, and it is for me still hard to believe it. I know he would have liked to come to Italy, and I was hoping this would happen, sooner or later, so while I was in Rome for meetings at the Parliament with the LaRouches, I got flowers for him, and in those 4 days I felt that he actually was with us, as I am sure he would have liked to be.

Good bye, John, it was a privilege to be your friend, and we will miss you terribly. Arrivederci in a better world, a world in which there is no rain, gasoline never ends, and finally justice and peace prevail. I imagine you now having a wine tasting with God and his angels, cracking jokes about our troubles on earth, and discussing history, philosophy and music. I hope this image can sooth the pain we feel as friends, and the pain your family feels,

 Liliana Gorini (Milan, Italy)

To the family and friends of John and Gary,

I didn't know Gary well. My one vivid recollection is from the winter of 1984, working with Gary in a small, temporary, ad hoc local office in Cleveland. It was a Sunday, and our fly-by-the-seat-of-the-pants budget was depleted. Incessant torrents of rain came down. I remember going to a freeway off-ramp with Gary, brandishing zip-loc bags of campaign literature at motorists until they opened their windows in the downpour in order to support our intrepid campaign. The memory of Gary's unfailing good humor and esprit de corps that day has stayed with me through the years.

 I worked side by side with John on a daily basis, in many wild, difficult and joyous circumstances, both when he first joined the movement in 1981, and later when he returned to Los Angeles in the '90s. I shared his enthusiasm when he showed me the early stages of his work on José Rizal. I remember him as a happy and optimistic person, unruffled by adversity, and a friend upon whom I could rely.

Daniel Platt
Los Angeles, CA

Gary Gennazio and John Morris are two people who made great contributions to humanity, and will be deeply missed.

 Gary is an organizer who was totally committed to making whomever he was speaking with at the time—at an intersection, DMV, or on the phone—understand that there was there was a reality that had to be addressed, and that that person, accessing a higher principle, working with LaRouche, could change the world forever. His humility concealed a great talent in art, and his portrait of Indira Ghandi will always be in my mind, and will be seen, hopefully, by future generations.

John Morris took an entire nation, the Philippines, into his heart. His research and writing on the leader and founder of the modern Philippines, Jose Rizal,  traced out Rizal’s being captivated and transmitting the ideas of Friedrich Schiller, and giving his life for the possibility of a Philippines nation finally free. Young Filipinos stand to gain a tremendous insight into their own nation, from this compassionate American, John Morris.

Richard Freeman

June 22, 2008

I got to know Gary during our years together in New York City in the 1980s, working on the publications at Worldcomp over on Park Avenue South. After he began working a part-time outside job, he and I would often go out for supper together during our late shifts, which ran from 4PM until we finished, sometimes 2 or 4 in the morning. He frequently arrived at work with something he had "picked up on the way the work." One day it would be a phenomenally delicious apple, another day, a rare record of one of the great Lieder singers from the 1940s and '50s, or even, as he did once, a handsome antique bust of Schiller, which he wanted for the whole staff to present to Helga LaRouche. When asking where he had gotten the latest "find", one came to expect an address far out of the way of anything close to the direct route by subway from his Washington Heights apartment. He seemed to cover the entire city, walking about, scanning for something interesting. "I was just walking over on ______ St. and there was this little store..."

Gary possessed a wry sense of humor, a keen sense of observation of humorous ironies around him, and had a memorable way of saying things at times. A one-liner that I love to repeat is just one of such delightful offhand remarks he used to make. We must have been saying something about personal finances or earning money; I don't recall. What Gary said was, "Rich or poor, it's good to have money."

Having spending money for his walk-abouts and dinners out, was important to Gary, back then at least, but he was also generous. One night, I particularly remember, I was finishing up an unusually long and exhausting shift at Worldcomp and had eaten very little, due to the demands of meeting whatever deadline had been pressing down all day. Gary called out of the blue and offered me dinner. I immediately took him upon it, since my wife was working an overnight shift, which meant that I would have to cook for myself, and I don't think we had much at the time. After the long subway ride, I arrived at Gary's, dead on my feet, to be treated to a superb steak, broiled to perfection and served with fresh pepper and lemon juice, with a couple of glasses of good red wine, and probably some good music from his recordings. The memory remains with me as one of those extraordinarily relaxing and refreshing occasions.

Although those of us who worked with Gary then, knew he had studied automobile design, we were all stunned when he walked into the office one day with a large oil painting he had just finished, a portrait of Lyn. We had no idea he knew how to paint! We asked if he had been secretly working on this for months. No, he replied, he had done it in a couple of days.

I have many happy memories of those days together, getting things done, being introduced to great performances of music, talking about art and politics, sharing a meal. I will always cherish them, as I honor the commitments he, too, served during his life.

Philip S. Ulanowsky
Purcellville, VA

On the passing of John Morris

 The statement from Philippines LaRouche Society leader Butch Valdes ("God Bless John Morris") captures the impact of John Morris's dedication and insight into the special and unique role of the Philippines in Asia, and America's role in Asia. I want to add that John chose to investigate and solve the crucial issue in this relationship - that of Jose Rizal's successful translation of Western Civilizations' best characteristics into the Asian character of Philippine culture - for the same reasons that guided all his undertakings during his years in the LaRouche movement: because he recognized the role of the individual in shaping the course of history, and took the challenge without hesitation when he recognized his capacity to act.

 In the many long talks at our house over the past years, when John served on security shifts in Leesburg, we primarily discussed our work on the Philippines. But my friend John's other historical studies constantly intervened: on the leading figures of the American system; on the role of Roosevelt, and especially John's investigation of Keynes sophistical counterproposals to FDR's vision for the post-war era; and on the remnants of the renaissance spirit in Europe in the 19th century. These were never a distraction, because John looked at the world through Schiller's eyes, as universal history. The discoveries he made on Rizal's histroy came from this vision, seeing the interface between the European Renaissance, the American System, and Rizal's vision of liberty for his homeland after 400 years of Spanish colonial rule, in a way that was shocking and revolutionary, even for the leading Rizal scholars in the Philippines.

 While almost all of John's time was committed to the political organizing process, he never slacked on his historical studies. He was about 90% finished with a second major work on the Philippines, tracing the post-war conflict in that liberated nation between the Hamilton/FDR tradition on the one hand, and those that accomidated to the British-style, "free-trade" neo-colonialism imposed by the US after Roosevelt's death. I believe we can publish this soon, as a testiment to the continuing and eternal influence of a singular mind and a truly great American.

 Mike Billington    June 22, 2008

'O Soul's Who Face and  Brave the Twilight Still'

O souls who face and brave the twilight still,

Whose eyes hath seen the snow-clouds hung in mist,

And cool glazed lakes, below the freezing stars,

To thee the morn heralds a restful sleep.

O you, whose journey charts a path unseen

Devoid of hilly bourn or fields that teem

With brooks and Soul’s breath and warmth of light,

To thee the darkest night remains the morn.

O fret not for the 'morrow---there is none,

And yet the future listens to your song.

O fret not for the 'morrow ---there is none,

And yet thine image persists. Be not saddened

That destination in endless time moves on,

And travel for the rest no rest abounds.

An adaptation of John Keats : 'O thou whose face hath felt the Winter's wind' by Cloret (Carl) Ferguson 06/22/08 

 Dear Friends,

 Bill and I mourn with you, while we continue the work both John and Gary dedicated their last breath of life in furthering.

In this way, we celebrate their lasting contribution to all mankind, present, future and even the past. Please, communicate to the families of both John and Gary that we hold them in high esteem as individuals. John's gentle smile

and Gary's assuring confidence in all he approached ---remains in our heart and mind. Warm Regards,

Bill & Cloret

    First I would like to convey may condolence to John's family and friends. I lived with John, Jim Duree, Andy Klein and Frank De Falco for over a year in the big yellow mansion we temporarily occupied in Los Angeles. John was a regular and enthusiastic participant in the poetry discussions and readings that we conducted every weekend. Years after Andy Klein had died, John, who always had a real compassion for others, made sure that when he was in Kentucky to faithfully visit Andy's parents. They were very appreciative of this. That was just the thoughtful and compassionate type of guy John was.

    But what really gave me an insight into the real John was the self motivated work he did on the Philippino and world patriot, Jose Rizal. John not only did excellent research and published a paper on this, but he initiated on his own volition the agapic sharing of his knowledge with some of the younger members of the La Rouche movement, like Ligaya and Wyneal and others. He began regular discussions and joint readings of Rigal's works, which I am sure had a profound and lasting effect on them and later on our members in the Philippines. This was a real expression of John's passion for his work within the La Rouche organization. He was committed to better the conditions of humanity and certainly contributed something to that end which is irreplaceable. He serves as an inspiration to others to carry on his life's work.  

Chuck Park    

In Memory of My Friend, John Morris

            When my wife Maureen returned home on Monday evening and told me that John and Gary had been killed in a traffic incident, I was shocked into tears.  My immediate thought of John was how this was such a cruel injustice for someone ten years my younger – someone whom I had recruited into the LaRouche movement – to be suddenly and senselessly taken.  And then, I slowly harkened back to the words of my first political mentor, John F. Kennedy, for whom I had campaigned in 1960 at the age of ten: “Life is not fair.”

            I first met John in the autumn of 1982 when I was running the LaRouche office in Seattle.  He was a student at the University of Washington and had attended a meeting where one of our members had made a sharp political intervention.  As he recounted the event later to my wife, he was amazed that someone actually knew what to say and then said it.  He called it “genius.”  He wanted to know about this organization, took some literature, and after a phone call immediately showed up at our office.  He had a friend of his in tow, who always wore black and appeared to be some sort of punk-rock-sophisticate that came with him to several chapter meetings.  Having just completed an exhaustive study of Frederick Nietzsche, I mercilessly lampooned his friends thinking, much to the delight of John who had been unsuccessful in moving his friend’s mind.

            John was eager to join the political fight and started coming into the office to make phone calls for a large event we had planed in the coming weeks.  With John’s efforts the National Democratic Policy Committee event was a huge success.  About 100 people attended the afternoon conference which featured the NDPC’s Will Wertz, who had run for U.S. Senate in California; Gordon Walgren, the former head of the Washington State Senate; Wendell Prater, a local National Farm Organization leader; and Galen Windsor, a prominent nuclear engineer from Tri-Cities. It was not long after that meeting that John joined full time and moved to our West Coast headquarters in Los Angeles.

            Though I would see John periodically at our bi-annual conferences, we would both meet-up again in Los Angeles.  It was there that John developed an affinity to the Robert Burns Suppers that I would annually host on the bard’s birthday in January.  On the evening before our 1993 Burns Supper, our mutual friend and fellow organizer, Andy Klein, died in his sleep.  When most other people wanted to cancel the event, thinking it would be inappropriate, John insisted that we must have it because “Andy loved the Burns Suppers and would have wanted us to have this one.”  I couldn’t think of a better way to honor Andy than to hold that Burns Supper, not as some solemn romantic memorial to him, but, to celebrate the wit and songs of Burns that Andy so enormously delighted in.  When John moved to Detroit he brought the Burns Supper tradition with him, along with the help of the butcher next to their office that provided him the obligatory haggis.  It was the same passion for Scotland’s poet that John applied to his critical work on Rizal and Schiller for the Philippine nation.

            Though life may not be fair, we also do not have to choose to accept that which is unjust in our world today.  Just as John chose to fight against the unjust starvation of the world’s children, forced global poverty, and the despicable menticide and mass murder carried out by those scumbags and lackeys of the British Empire – we too can chose to honor his memory by continuing that fight to its just conclusion.  And, we can do it with a smile on our faces, like that notorious, infectious smile of Johns.  It is in that great arch of justice that bends towards those just ends, when “man to man the world o’re shall brothers be for a’ that,” that the Immortal Memory of John Morris resides.

Mark Calney
Los Angeles, California

To John’s family, who we never met, but heard of from him.
To colleagues and friends who knew John in the United States and Germany. 

Dear John – wherever you may be,

We miss you. The last time we met was in February, and we were looking forward to your coming here soon. You came to see us, nearly each time you stayed in Europe.

We got to know you through our common friend, Liliana.

Our dear Mexican friend and singing teacher, Maestro Briano, had assigned you to sing “Per la gloria”, to develop your shining tenor voice, with real Italian qualities. You even dared to sing the famous “Celeste Aida” by Verdi, and you did a good job with it!

Last year you brought us the very last bottle of your own, home made wine (and we drank it without you, which disappointed you a little bit, sorry). You were so busy with politics, that there wasn’t time anymore for producing wines.

Every evening when you were here with us, we first studied singing, then had some food and wine, and we ended with joyous discussion on many serious subjects, among them your research projects against the European oligarchy.

Your friends from Germany (and Sweden),
Auf Wiedersehen, Lotta and Werner

Gary and John,

Who were fellow travelers on this earthly path, dedicated in their daily endeavors to sparking the souls they met along the way into their political and social conscious, and ultimately, to their creative cognitive potential. Fitting, in deed, to both pioneers is the part of Prophet Daniel's message 12:1-3;

Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake;

..But the wise shall shine brightly

like the splendor of the firmament,

And those who lead the many to justice

shall be like the stars forever.

 Thank you for continuing the good to the simultaneity of eternity.

 Jim Stinziani
Larouche Associate, Minnesota

In Memory of John Morris

          My first significant contact with John was during his early period in the Labor Committees, when we organized at Los Angeles airport.   We generally deployed together, and we had a similar outlook on how to organize:   We would each carry our sign promoting nuclear power and attacking the radical environmentalists, but each of us also  carried a second sign (which we would display to those people who stopped to chat), which read, "LaRouche Says:  Hang Henry Kissinger--for Treason and Perversion!".   Both of us also carried the EIR book, "Will This Man Become President?" in our rear pants pocket, and lunged in the organizing with the fight for nuclear energy, but also LaRouche's battle against Kissinger's genocidal insanity.    This caused us to occasionally incur the wrath of various other squad members or leaders ("You're talking too much about LaRouche!   Stick to nuclear power and environmentalism!   Leave LaRouche and the economics to the phone team!" etc.), but we stuck to our guns, to positive effect.

          Years later, after John's stay in Pittsburg, John moved back to Los Angeles.   He eventually moved in with a group of other LaRouche organizers, into a giant old house we referred as "the mansion."  This was the first of three homes which I shared with John.   I remember John as one of the most agreeable people I'd ever met.   He seemed to always have a smile on his face, even when his organizing was criticized by others, or during the occasional adversity about the housing situation, etc.  

          I remember well the many trips John and I made on Sunday afternoons downtown to the main LA Public Library, and the books John brought home, principally on Rizal and the Philippines, and on the history of counterinsurgency in Asia (although his interests were much broader).   I also vividly remember John's taking over the sink (and I believe, the bathtub, after cleaning, of course!) for his wine and beer-making, which was one of his favorite avocations.   And John was an excellent cook.

          John had friends scattered all over the country, and he seemed to take a deep interest in taking care of his friends, even those outside the Labor Committees. Although I had limited contact with John after he moved to the Midwest several years ago, I remember him as a very good friend and housemate and a very good fellow organizer.  He will be missed by many, and by Mankind.


Los Angeles, CA    
June 23, 2008

We here in Stockholm were deeply saddened to hear the tragic news about our two colleagues, John Morris and Gary Gennazio.  Death is never an easy event to handle, but when it comes at an early and totally unexpected time, it is even more difficult. We here in Sweden and Scandanavia will truly miss the dedication and passionate devotion these two courageous fighters had for the higher cause of humanity's well being.  There are alltogether too few of us dedicated to such a life endeavor in the world today, that their loss is therefore, felt in every corner of the globe. Our hearts go out to all the family members and friends in their time of grief.

With our sympathy

Hussein Askary
Stephen Brawer
Ulf Sandmark
Astrid Sandmark
Kjell Lundqvist
Tore Fredin
Stockholm Youth Movement

Remembering John Morris

My inextinguishable memory of our comrade John Morris will always be illuminated by a vision of the flash of his smile, his propensity to "crack up" at bawdy jokes, and his wine-making escapades.

I was most fortunate to be able to speak to him for the last time, sadly, on June 7, 2008, his 48th birthday. He was very happy to be a field warrior in Chicago, and I suggested to him that he come out here to L.A. to his old "stomping grounds" soon. As usual, he was happy and optimistic, and particularly expressed to me that he had been very proud of how "mature" and "feisty" the LYM in Europe had become after the departure of the "old fogies," saying that he had done some work with the former, and that he was proud to see the LaRouche movement back as a force in Europe.

He also expressed, with much satisfaction, that he was indeed proud of the resilience and fighting spirit demonstrated daily by the Chicago local, "after all that they've been through."

John's optimism was boundless, and he is irreplaceable. He loved organizing, and humankind; and the world is poorer for his loss. All we can do is spread his ideas and the discoveries that he made, and as with all good souls, he will be immortal.

Lena Platt

To remember a person you could always appreciate always brings a smile.

I met Gary many years ago at the Chicago office. He spoke with a soft voice, but the conversation was enlightening. I saw his artwork and learned to appreciate his work and reasoning. He had stayed at our house for a while when the Chicago office needed to work in Detroit. My children remember his taking time to show them about drawing and geometry. I had fun with him organizing locally. No matter what type of person he talked to, they could not deny what he was conveying.

I met John at one of the national events and later in Chicago. I knew of his travels from others in the office. When he came to Detroit we developed a friendship and he always made time to talk to me when I came by. Through him, I started with the Kepler classes and that was a major hi-light in my life, he had such a way of guiding one's mind to understand.

I know many feel the loss, but we have the blessings of having shared part of their lives. Their legacies are what mankind must have to bring freedom.

With Fond Memories
Jim and Carol Stamps

When we the small men of our time shall pass unregarded to the rest of the tomb, this holy consolation shall close our eyelids in their never-ending sleep:  that though our names be forgotten and unknown, our memories shall be evergreen in the work we have accomplished; in the eternal justice for which we have striven.

- Australian WWII Prime Minister, John Curtin.

On behalf of the members of the Citizens Electoral Council of Australia (CEC), the LaRouche organization in Australia, we extend to the families and friends of John Morris and Gary Genazzio, our deepest sympathy.

Whilst oceans physically separate the members of our organization, ensuring that we rarely have the opportunity to enjoy personal friendships with our compatriots over the seas, there is a rare and precious bond amongst those of us who share in the noble mission to which John and Gary devoted their lives. Their tragic deaths deeply saddened all those of us who know just how precious and unique they were, for they were LaRouchies! They fought for, and loved humanity.

So few in this world devote their lives in the service of others. John and Gary did and for those of us who continue their life’s mission, even on the other side of the world, we take increased strength and inspiration and determination to bring about the better, happier and more just world which they spent their lives fighting for.

From: Craig and Noelene Isherwood, on behalf of the LaRouche Movement in Australia.

I've met John in cities all across the United States and Europe over the last two decades, in the course of our similar responsibilities. When we would meet, there was always that smile of his and a baseball pitcher's windup before he grabbed your hand to shake it.  It was a curving, slicing handshake (which came at you whether you liked it or not) … and you came to expect it.  It was his signature, and it was genuine, and I liked it.

We spent many long hours of a night together, where John would pursue his history research with zeal and joy, and he'd still find a moment to cook something strange from a left-over, and be proud of it. And of course, there was his homemade wine, not bad to the taste.

In the course of our work, I could count on him for anything … and I'll miss him dearly.  

Steven Meyer

Twelve Lines for the Twelve Tribes, the
Twelve Disciples and Two Beautiful Souls
                   For Gary and John

Two new stars there are in the heavens tonight,
Two new voices singing in the heavenly choir.
Two persons' memories, who fought for the right,
Are bright coals added to that eternal fire.

The adulation of men they did not seek,
The arts and history they gave us as gifts.
They shared martyrdom with Socrates, the Greek,
And bore their crosses with Jesus, who uplifts.

This hallowed moment we cannot consecrate,
But our souls, our lives we can rededicate.

In the spirit of Lincoln, let us treasure
that cause for which they gave their last full measure

Douglas Heitz

Longtime organizer in Chicago office

From: Carol Smith
To:  Barbara and Hal Morris

Hi Barbara and Hal,   I have sent Johnny's voice mail that he sent to me on his birthday (by attachment); please let me know if it works.  It is really precious and is so Johnny!  Ever since he first met my Mom and heard her call me 'Carol Ann'  he has done the same; she is the only family member who called me that.

I will be leaving for Chicago first thing in the morning --- looking forward to being with the people he spent most of his time with these last years ... and the stories and memorials.  Hope that it will help me get on with my life and with the work that was/is such a part of our lives; it was what introduced us and kept us in touch with each other --- as we also grew to care so much for each other personally.  I have never had such a soul mate before in my life. He was truly unique and, as Schiller would say,  a beautiful soul. I grieve for my loss and even more, I believe, for humanity's loss in such a selfless, giving, truly agapic human being;  one who loved life and above all else, truly loved giving of himself for the betterment of all.  No parent could ask for more from their child than Johnny gave to us all.  I'm sure that you are so very proud of him and you deserve to be. His character and his work will live forever; immortality he has achieved; no one can ask for more than that.  His work will carry on forever. 

Thank you both for this gift you gave the world -- John David Morris, son - brother, uncle to little Alex; soulmate to me and caring friend to the people of the world.  



 I called John Morris the day he died to ask him if he’d gotten quota for my birthday. He told me about the deployment he had made with Gary in the small Indiana town where I had once been stuck for several hours on a hitch-hiking trip during my misspent youth, and we bantered back and forth for a while about the organizing. He told me about the then current plans for deployment in Detroit in the days to come. I stressed the global importance of getting the field squads in the Chicago region up to higher standards. He ended our conversation by saying, "Well, we can work on the $500 orbit tomorrow." I wish he had been right.

      In my memory John is always smiling like that and thinking about the future in that optimistic way. Most of the time he is also striking goofy-looking poses as he stretches while organizing. He loved to organize in the field and wanted to make it work.

      He will be sorely missed.

 I have worked with Gary Gennazio many times over the years, seen  him at countless ICLC national conferences, too often at such events only nodding or speaking with him briefly, though sometimes longer. Recently, I have had the privilege of organizing with him at tables in Chicago and its suburbs in this last year, in the ongoing revival of field operations there. But Gary will always be, first and foremost in my memory, the guy who chased Henry Kissinger around the block. I am proud that I was with him when this happened.

      It was 1983, I believe, and Henry had been hauled out to appear on “Night Lies” on ABC, hired by them as an expert consultant of some kind to sabotage Lyn’s influence in the Reagan administration. I had been called while out organizing at La Guardia Airport with another member, told about a rally planned at ABC studios in mid-Manhattan, and so we cut a little early and shared a cab into town with two other members who had just flown in from Boston. The cabby who drove us in to Manhattan heard us all talking about Boston organizing, a recent trip one of us had taken to Denver to organize, another about Chicago, etc. and assumed we had each flown in from one of these different places to join up to go rally against Fat Henry here in New York City. He hated Kissinger, too, being Lebanese or something like that. He volubly regretted that he had to earn a living, or he would have joined us, too.

      When we arrived at 67th Street and Central Park West, the cabby was even more impressed, since there were already 25 or more ICLC members gathered, singing songs about Henry loudly, of which I remember most clearly, “Stranger Than The Night”, with its lyrics about “Kissinger and Cohn/exchanging hand jobs/little boys get blown/by these two fat slobs,” etc.. The noise they were raising, the crowd they were gathering, all made it appear like quite a boisterous gathering.

      When Kissinger arrived at the 67th Street entrance, the ABC security team worked with his Secret Service retinue to hustle him inside quickly, while our rally went on, un-bothered by any ABC (or other) cameras. After the segment with Ted Koppel was taped, all and sundry surrounding the studio prepared to get Henry on his way out. No doubt in order to protect their charge, however guilty he was of the crimes we were citing in song, sign, leaflet, and chant, the Secret Service had Kissinger’s limousine pull up to the entrance on Central Park West this time, not the side door on West 67th. Most of our forces moved around to respond when he made his exit.

      This was only a feint, however. I found myself standing next to Gary Gennazio, there by the 67th Street door, with only a few other organizers, when a gaudily painted Tavern On The Green panel truck pulled up, and Fat Henry, bundled under a raincoat or something, was escorted by a lone Secret Service agent to the rear door of the truck, hoisted quickly in, and the doors slammed.

      Gary saw this happen and took instant action. “Henry Kissinger, the notorious international criminal, is trying to make a getaway in this truck!” he shouted, and ran to the rear, before it could pull away, pounding on the truck’s locked door. “Come on out you little faggot murderer!” Gary cried, or words to that effect. “Come on out with your hands up! You’re wanted for genocide! Crimes against humanity!”

      The Tavern On The Green employee driving that truck must have gotten a shouted order to drive then, because he floored the gas pedal, ground gears, and took off down the street,  leaving the smell of burnt rubber in his wake. This noisy and sudden departure and Gary’s continued cries attracted the attention of our colleagues around the corner on Central Park West, who began to run towards us. Gary ran screaming loudly after the truck, and I followed his lead, however hopeless the task looked. After only a few paces, though, our luck seemed to improve. The traffic light on Columbus Avenue changed to yellow as the truck approached it, and the driver, obviously respecting laws far more than his passengers, slowed to a stop. This gave Gary time to catch up, with me not far behind. He banged his fist on the side of the truck as soon as he reached it, shouting, “Come on out, Kissinger! You can’t hide from justice, you child molesting monster!” Pointing dramatically at the truck, Gary stepped back and shouted out to a cabby nearby, who was waiting on West 67th for a fare, “Henry Kissinger, the international criminal, the butcher of Beirut, mass murderer of Biafra and Bangla Desh, is hiding in this truck!”

      “Henry Kissinger? THE Henry Kissinger?” asked the cabby.

      I assured him it was true, while Gary called out to two more cabbies on the other corner. The first taxi driver looked like he might be Pakistani, so I added, “Kissinger has Ali Bhutto’s blood on his hands, you know!” On hearing this, he grabbed his radio microphone from the interior, chattered something into it excitedly, and slammed the door. Gary was pounding on the truck again, shouting, “Come on out, you sick murderous hit man for the British Empire! Your days of quietly driving off and escaping justice are over!”

      The light changed, but instead of going straight, the driver turned the corner, intending to make a box and return to Central Park, where he came from, I guess.  Now, this is where Columbus Avenue meets Broadway, so there was another light only a few feet down, and it was red already. The driver dutifully stopped. I am certain that  Henry was cursing Gary as he lay cowering in the rear of that panel truck, and we were close enough to hear the Secret Service man’s agitated voice raised to high volume through the metal door. We were joined by the Pakistani cabby, who had deserted his cab, shouting something about Kissinger being a murderer while Gary beat a fine rhythm on the walls of the truck. The light changed, and again the driver turned left, onto West 66th Street, this time, with Gary giving hot chase, pounding on the truck as long as he could, shouting out indictment charges against Henry Kissinger, leading myself and now also the cabby, and alerting a handful of passing New York City spectators, one of whom began to cheer us on, “Go get him!” Halfway down the block, which was a longer one this time, I began to run out of steam, while the Paki taxi driver faded away completely, as the truck seemed to be getting too far away.

      This didn’t stop Gary, who plunged on at full throttle, shouting as he ran. He caught the truck at the next corner, just before the red light it had stopped there for turned to green. I watched as Gary pounded away on it, calling on Henry to surrender and come out with his hands up, then chase the truck around the corner and into Central Park at the Tavern On The Green back parking lot.

      I caught up to him just as the Limousine, now holding Kissinger, who had switched cars in the lot, tried to run down Gary. He had stood in its path, shouting imprecations, and banged its hood as it swerved at the last moment, giving him just barely enough room to jump away. Without more than a moment to catch his breath, Gary was off again, this time to call a police officer over.

      “I want to report an attempted vehicular murder,” he said to the officer who responded.

      “Who was the intended victim?” asked the cop.

      “Me,” said Gary. “I have the plate number of the car in question. An international dope pusher, murderer, and gangster tried to have his driver run me over with his limousine.”

      The cop looked askance at this, but asked, “Who would that be?”

      “Henry Kissinger,” said Gary, without missing a beat. And without taking any guff for it, Gary went to the Police Precinct Headquarters to file a complaint against Henry Kissinger for attempted vehicular homicide. THAT was Gary Gennazio.

by Matt Guice

How mysterious this life is. I met Gary in 1969 or 70, I had just moved into the New York City and I think Gary was relatively new here also. We met when we both seemed to need a friend and were there for each other.  Over the years I have thought of Gary but couldn't find him. I have some of his paintings and I even posed for him when he needed a model. I thought it would be nice to say hello after all this time. Over the past few weeks, I have been thinking about him, so I thought I'd Google him again.  This time I wish I didn't find him. 

Gary was one of the nicest people I ever met.  I am so happy he found a life with so many friends and was so well liked and respected. I am also so pleased to see that his art was also respected. 

My condolences to his family and friends from a very old friend who can appreciate this terrible loss.


Ricki Botwinik Spinner

(in response to an announcement of a Tribute to Gary Genazzio and John Morris)

I'm truly sorry to hear about this, because although I didn't know both of these men very well, I was familiar with the work they were doing to get people organized in my neighborhood, and I believe I may have met both of these men at one time or another during the past five years or so, but my memory is a bit fuzzy at the moment.

Due to a prior appointment, I will be unable to attend the celebration of their lives, and their work on behalf of mankind on June 30th, but please know that I'm offering my deepest condolences and prayers for the Genazzio and Morris families, as well as to the "family" at LPAC's Chicago office. Both of them "fought the good fight" during their time on Earth, and now... they've gone home, where they will be experiencing the joy of living in the loving presence of our Father/Creator for all eternity.


Stephanie Fryar

I was privileged to know Gary G. for a few years in the 1980's, and was saddened to hear of his passing. Gary was passionate about culture. I can clearly remember him calling me into his room when we shared a house in Michigan to listen to the Dvorak Stabat Mater. It had a great effect on me, and is still a favorite piece of mine, and seems particularly appropriate at this sorrowful occasion. I also remember him recommending Alfred Cortot playing Chopin. He didn't just take his preferences in music second hand, either, but had thoughtful opinions on what he liked. His wit was also well-received, and he was good to have as a work partner when things were going well or not.

My condolences to all who knew him. He will be missed.

Richard Blomquist

"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break."  ~ William Shakespeare

   To hear the bitter news of the loss of our two wonderful friends and fellow organizers, took my breath away. I can only imagine the pain felt by the families; may you be comforted in your time of great sorrow.
   I did not know Gary well, even though I first met him about 30 years ago; but I knew him to be a dedicated, creative and insightful organizer. I appreciated his artistic contributions over the years. And, of course, the "classic" cover of the Campaigner magazine, in the late '70's, featuring him (with two young ladies) lounging on a park bench, beneath the gaze of a statue of Friedrich Schiller, should not be forgotten!
   His passing is a great loss to us all.

   I first met John in 1984, but it was only until much later, that I got to know him better, through our collaboration in various duties at the organization's national conferences. His calm demeanor, good cheer and incisive observations were always appreciated, but especially in times when there was trouble brewing. His friendship was priceless; this is a loss that cuts to the heart.

   Their souls now soar to Heaven's Gate.

   It is appropriate to remember our dear friends, those "feisty spirits", with the words of Col. Joshua L. Chamberlain (later promoted to the rank of General by General U.S. Grant), when he revisited Gettysburg on Oct. 3, 1889:
   "In great deeds something abides; on great fields something stays. Forms change and pass; bodies disappear; but spirits linger, to consecrate ground for the vision-place of souls. And reverent men and women from afar, and generations that know us not and that we know not of, heart-drawn to see where and by whom great things were suffered and done for them, shall come to this deathless field, to ponder and dream; and lo! the shadow of a mighty presence shall wrap them in its bosom, and the power of the vision pass into their souls."

   Dona Nobis Pacem.

   Janet West

Gary - A poet, an artist and a friend- June 30, 2008

     How is it possible, in a few words, to encompass the life of such a complex person.
     So kind, and yet so stubborn
     So resourceful, and yet so bountiful -

You arrived at Central Park - dressed in polyester - What hippy would dress in polyester and patent leather shoes - quick transformation and you were forever captured by Phil Ulanowsky, demanding that the American people stand up and transform themselves so as to be able to give new direction to their country.

     A Country of Schiller
The day that you found the bust of Schiller in the antique shop - you had to buy it. Helga had to have it - and you walked World Comp, PMR and the national center raising the money to buy that Schiller bust which has graced our publications since - Helga was never to have another graven image of Schiller after receiving from you, my friend Gary, that beautiful work of art.  How could Helga thank you but to send you all her graven images and then to dine with you as a small token of thanks.

                                                                             Thank you for your friendship



     There was always a dance in your walk, a smile and a practical joke behind it all.

      A mind as sharp as a knife, which you used always in a playful way, to move the minds of those you organized.

     I will take that image of you out everyday to move men's souls, to continue the work you can no longer carry out.

     I hope my fellow organizers will carry that image with them as they continue your work.

                                                                                              For ever,

Three Songs in Memory of John and Gary

Dear Everyone.  It is about 35 years since we first met Gary, a passionate, talented thinker and collaborator.  It was no accident that Gary's eye for beauty led him to find that Schiller hidden in the dust many years ago, and his portrait of Mrs. Gandhi still adorns the room where so many important decisions will continue to be made. What can we say about the funny, multi-faceted, endearing John?  There is so much to say, but for now, Jeff and I would like to share these poems/songs that have given us so much comfort in sad times, and always, much joy. Gary and John loved music, art and history as much as we did.  The last time in Detroit that we shared a musical joke, John and I (Michele) struggled through a piano/violin duet.  As always, John was ready to take on any challenge. We are devastated over the loss of these precious friends.

Our deepest condolences to their families,

Jeff and Michele Steinberg.


Mignon’s Song

Poem by Wolfgang Goethe, Music by Ludwig von Beethoven

Knowest thou the land where the lemon trees bloom,
And darkly gleam the golden oranges?
A gentle wind blows down from that blue sky;
Calm stands the myrtle, and the laurel high.
Knowest thou the land? So far and fair!
Thou, whom I love, and I will wander there.

Knowest thou the house with all its rooms aglow,
And shining hall and columned portico?
The marble statues stand and look at me.
Alas, poor child, what have they done to thee?
Knowest thou the land? So far and fair.
My Guardian, thou and I will wander there.

Knowest thou the mountain with its bridge of cloud?
The mule plods warily: the white mists crowd.
Coiled in their caves, the brood of dragons sleep;
The torrent hurls the rock from steep to steep.
Knowest thou the land? So far and fair.
Father, away! Our road is over there!

Va, Pensiero

From the Opera, Nabucca, by Giuseppe Verdi

Italian (original)

Va, pensiero sull'ali dorate
Va, ti posa sui clivi, sui colli,
Ove olezzano tepide e molli
L'aure dolci del suolo natal!

Del Giordano le rive saluta,
Di Sione le torri atterrate...
O, mia patria sì bella e perduta!
O membranza sì cara e fatal!

Arpa d'or dei fatidici vati,
Perchè muta dal salice pendi?
Le memorie nel petto raccendi
Ci favella del tempo che fu!

O simile di Solima ai fati
Traggi un suono di crudo lamento,
O t'ispiri il Signore un concento
Che ne infonda al patire virtù.


English (Schiller Institute translation)

 Go, thought, on golden wings
Go, alight on the cliffs, on the hills,
Where there are wafting the warm and gentle
Sweet breezes of our native land.

Greet the Jordan's banks
The fallen towers of Zion....
Oh, my fatherland—so beautiful and so lost!
Oh, remembrance so dear, and fatal.

Harp of gold of the prophet bards,
Why do you hang silent, from the willow?
Rekindle the memories in our breast
That speak to us of the time that was.

O [harp], like Jerusalem to the fates,
Draw a sound of harsh lamentation
May the Lord inspire in thee an accord
Which might infuse our suffering with virtù.

Goin’ Home

Negro Spiritual, In the New World Symphony by Anton Dvorak, 1894

Goin' home, goin' home, I'm a goin' home;
Quiet-like, some still day, I'm jes' goin' home.
It's not far, jes' close by,
Through an open door;
Work all done, care laid by,
Goin' to fear no more.
Mother's there 'spectin' me,
Father's waitin' too;
Lots o' folk gather'd there,
All the friends I knew,
All the friends I knew.
Home, I'm goin' home!
Nothin lost, all's gain,
No more fret nor pain,
No more stumblin' on the way,
No more longin' for the day,
Goin' to roam no more!
Mornin' star lights the way,
Res'less dream all done;
Shadows gone, break o' day,
Real life jes' begun.
There's no break, there's no end,
Jes' a livin' on;
Wide awake, with a smile
Goin' on and on.
Goin' home, goin' home, I'm jes' goin' home,
goin' home, goin' home, goin' home!


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