In memory of Nina Creedman

Tis the season...

Nina. Sweetie pie. I miss you so much. We had an awesome birthday gathering a few weeks ago in your honor. I got to meet some of your high school friends that moved back to SF in the last couple of years. Your presence here has not faded...quite the contrary. I missed Bay to Breakers this year...it's just not the same without you. I can't run like I used to...partly because I'm getting old and creaky, but mostly because no one's ever been able to get me moving quite like you! Remember how sometimes we'd do a run to the ice cream shop? Now I just go to the ice cream shop...ha ha. Gosh, I miss you so much. I'll be at the river house on Memorial Day Weekend with the fam. Remember all the delicious food we prepared and ate together there (not to mention...umm...everywhere)? That tradition is still alive, as are our memories and love for you. You are ever-present in my life. Love ya and miss you mucho. Ez

Posted by Ezra Cattan on Friday 21st May 2010 @ 6:12pm

Remembering you, Nina...

Just want to let you know that Im thinking of you Nina especially today. A lot of things has happened since then, but you were never forgotten. I hope you are happy wherever you are in spirit. Maybe you are smiling, dancing, and watching all over us as the time goes on... :-)

Hugs,
Theresa

Posted by Theresa Cooper on Wednesday 24th March 2010 @ 7:27am

Nina in Adelaide & Sharon in Berkeley, 2000/01

I have only just found out about this tragic loss, two and a half years after it happened, so for me it feels like it has just happened.

I had dinner tonight with my friends and mentors, Paul Downton and Cherie Hoyle, whom I have not caught up with in person in a while. Paul showed me a copy of his book, which mentions myself and also Nina in its acknowledgments - and it listed Nina's date of death!!

http://www.springerlink.com/content/h72647/back-matter.pdf

I slammed the book shut in shock!!

In 2000, Nina came to Adelaide as an intern with Urban Ecology Australia, where I was working as a volunteer on ecocity projects and urban ecology. I have attached a picture I took of her in the Centre for Urban Ecology while she was with us.

http://www.urbanecology.org.au/people/interns.html

I got to know her, although not as well as many of you (eg. I did not know about her incredible piano playing skills!).

She was warm and funny and well liked by all. Matter of fact about her diabetes, she would carry on chatting to you while taking out her insulin and giving herself a jab as if she was merely rearranging notes in a file.

Nina became involved in actual construction of the straw bale house at Christie Walk, and I recall it was a very hot summer in 2000 when she was here. I have a distinct recollection of her being VERY red faced one afternoon after being on-site in the horrid February heat! She would be thrilled to see Christie Walk, a 'piece of ecocity' in Adelaide's CBD, as it is now, knowing she played a role in creating it:

http://www.urbanecology.org.au/christiewalk

Soon after Nina's visit, I won an award to go and study with Mathis Wackernagel in Oakland (since founded the Global Footprint Network), and chose to stay in Berkeley because of its proximity to Oakland, and also because the two people I knew in that part of the US were there - Richard Register, friend and colleague of Paul and Cherie and founder of Ecocity Builders, and Nina!

My memories of that time in May 2001 are meeting up with Nina, looking at at art exhibition that was on at UC Berkeley, her offering me red licquorice!, walking around UC Berkeley Campus and seeing a squirrel (for an Australian, this was a bit like Americans seeing a kangaroo! I remember we had been out walking around the campus for some time, maybe 45 minutes, when Nina turned to me and said 'the sun's nice here, isn't it?'. Her saying that has always been one of my clearest memories from my US trip. I recalled her looking very hot and bothered during her summer in Adelaide, and realised she was right - the sun had not burnt my skin like it would have in Australia after some time out without sunscreen. That's what happens when you knock a whacking great hole in the ozone layer!

It was Nina's birthday during the time of my visit, and she kindly asked me along to her get-together where she was staying at the time. I recall there was a pinata, and have a picture of her somewhere blindfolded, stick in hand, which I will scan.

I had met some good Irish folk at Beckett's in Berkeley, an Irish pub which had just opened at the time I arrived. They adopted the Australian girl who was eating there on her own a lot of the time! I meant to get pictures of them all before I left, and I got all the girls, but missed a couple of the lads. I also wanted better pics of the inside of the Berkeley City Club where I had been staying, because the ones I took were useless and my camera had decided to play up! When I got home, I posted Nina a single use camera and asked if she would mind taking the pics. I got back a bunch of photos of the things I had asked for and a pic of the Beckett's folk!

Nina went out of her way for me, and she only knew me a little while. Reading others' posts, its clear that this is not unusual, because it's the kind of girl she was!

I am so terribly sad for all Nina's family, friends and workmates. I am so glad that if she had to be taken, that she was doing something she loved. Its so awful that she was taken - but so wonderful that she was given to us all.

I know you miss her to the moon and back, and my heart goes out to you all xx

Sharon Ede
Adelaide, Australia

Posted by Sharon Ede on Saturday 12th September 2009 @ 3:24am

Nina's Plaque

Hey guys

WCC has installed a plaque on Lambton Quay for Nina. It is located opposite Brandon Street on the West side of Lambton Quay.

I had the privilege of working with her on this project. Attached are some photos of the Plaque.

Blair

Posted by Blair Hiscoke on Thursday 4th December 2008 @ 9:58am

San Francisco

I've had many many "What Would Nina Do?" moments in the last year and a half. I've moved around a bit in this time, and when I consider how to go about meeting people and making friends in each new location, I think of Nina and the apparent ease with which she won people over. I want that, but I don't got it. So I conjure her spirit, and wish it would somehow rub off.

When I moved from New Zealand back to San Diego, Nina asked me "Why are you moving THERE? why don't you move to San Francisco???" She loved loved LOVED her hometown. And so I teased her, "Because San Diego is America's Finest City." (San Diego really does, in fact, claim this title, warranted or not...) I KNEW it would bug her, and it sure did.

And now, as fate would have it, I've spent the last four months in the Bay Area. It's easy to see how and why Nina loved this place. It's easy to picture her finding trails to run up and down and filling her calendar with all the amazing possibilities for outdoor and urban adventures that exist around here. And so I think of her often.

I was moved to post again today because of the headline "San Francisco Rated America's Most Walkable City" (walkscore.com). This is exactly the sort of thing that would warm Nina's urban-planning heart and would validate her love for this place. This headline would make her happy. She valued the walkability of a city, and even after having traveled a lot, she still thought San Francisco was the best city she knew of.

Now that I've spent some time here myself, I have taken back my little crack about San Diego being "America's Finest City" many times. There was one other person in the room when I made that little comment (mostly to annoy Nina... I admit it), and I told her I took it back. She and I both have this uncanny feeling that Nina was usually right.

Posted by Ellen Eberhard on Friday 18th July 2008 @ 5:28pm

Nina's words

I found this extraordinary passage in one of Nina's journals. I think NIna would have wanted it shared with all who knew her.

"I think about those who have passed through my life — friends, boyfriends, neighbors, classmates, teachers, and I mourn for them. I realize that I think about them the same way I would someone who died — both as peple no longer in my life, and I mourn that passing, that absence, of the light & spirit they shared with me, brought to me, before. And if or when I should die; I want to thank you all of you, all of you who have touched my life, entered into it somehow, shared a moment —or many—with me. Thank you. "

Posted by Nancy Bauer on Wednesday 11th June 2008 @ 5:45am

remembering Nina

It is hard to believe that today is already the first anniversary of Nina's untimely passing. We are remembering Nina today and thinking especially of her family . A lovely way to memorialize Nina and her myriad gifts and talents is by listening to the wonderful piano selections that her father Michael has placed on this website. The Bach Brandenburg cadenza we saw her play at UHS in 1995 to a huge ovation is thrilling.
The Rothberg Family

Posted by Amy Rothberg on Monday 24th March 2008 @ 6:40am

I just found about about Ninas journey and I was very suprised. My sister lives in Australia so some of the memories colide that I read below. Nina and I were childhood friends that lost touch when we were about 9, but her memeory lives on inside of me like for all of her friends below. I remember picking blackberries outside her house and climbing the oak tree. We would spend hours hanging out in the tree limbs naming the branches different names. We made everything a great adventour. She was naturally effervescent and so strong. I will be touched with the image of her as as beautiful adult and feel her strength carry on.

Posted by Jennifer Adler on Friday 1st February 2008 @ 4:45am

As the Australian Open starts again for another year, I am reminded of Nina who once told me one of her goals was to see all four Grand Slams & I can't believe it has been two years since that hot summer day when I drove Nina, Michael & Susan back to the airport, with an always smiling Nina saying she will be back for the tennis again & i must come ot Wellington soon.

We met up again briefly when she was here in Melbourne in Oct 06, but, when she left again saying we'll catch up soon and have another "meat pie at the footy", in her improving but still very american "Aussie accent", I never thought it would be the last time I would be seeing her. She was such an inspiring, fun & generous soul & as I watch the tennis over the next two weeks, i know she will be there with me in spirit!

We always had such fun when we caught up (she made me walk everywhere!) & although many of my travel buddies have come to stay with me or my parents, I can honestly say Nina will always be one of my family's faves. My mum regularly asked "how is that lovely Nina"? She had met her only once. She was thoughtful, kind, & always full of smiles & laughter which is hard to forget. And..after staying with my family that one Easter, for the next 7 years, every time we met up & spoke about our families, she always mentioned how she recalled my mum leaving a little easter goodie bag for her. I don't remember it! She always remembered the small things most people take for granted.

I have never lived in the same city as Nina, nor do we share any common friends & it came as a big shock to me when I heard the news from the brother of one of her friends back in the USA about a month after her accident. In true Nina style she had put us in contact because she wanted another newbie to have some friends for their time in Melbourne! One of the many things that stood out about Nina was that she was always thinking of others & how she could help them.

I first met Nina in '99 when I'd taken a year off to travel. She was dating a friend of the friend I was visiting in Boston. Nina was so interested in finding out about Australia as she was preparing to move to Adelaide, but unfortunately I couldn't answer many of her questions as after one sip of beer, I was struck down with the worst case of food poisoning imaginable & as Dave and Nina were heading off on another adventure the next morning they left the party early to take a very,very sick girl home. What an introduction!

We did manage to exchange email addresses & Nina insisted I visit San Francisco before I came back home, but unfortunately my funds were running low & I had to fly straight home from Canada. She never let me forget that... and always told me that I must go to SF as it's awesome and I had to meet her family!... I still hope to make it some day as she was such a great ambassador for that city, and the people in it...

Thankfully, we did end up catching up numerous times in Australia and Auckland & became quite good friends. It helped that we shared similar passions - travelling, organics, meeting new people, and anything outdoors! (including a dislike for shopping malls!) so it was easy to keep in touch!

I remember the last time I heard from Nina - she was so excited that her dad and Susan had just visited, the upcoming climbing adventure, her trip to Sydney for a wedding, eating more pavlova and making plans for her 30th birthday. She was always so positive, so radiant and so full of life. It was hard not to catch her enthusiasm for everything about life and I miss that a lot.

Posted by Roma on Tuesday 15th January 2008 @ 7:20pm

Life's A Stage

I was looking through old photos at my parent's house and came across this one of me and Nina. I remember that we always loved doing mini-performances for anyone who would watch. This photo evokes such great childhood memories of Nina and I wanted to share it with everyone... plus we look adorable!!

Posted by Sara Kirsner on Saturday 5th January 2008 @ 10:21am

La Nina

I was lucky enough to met Nina while working at Boffa's in Auckland. Nina spent part of Christmas day with me and my family in 2005. I told her she didn't need to bring anything but in true Nina style she arrived with a giant basket brimming with seasonal fruit and a bottle of bubbly which subsequently was how we spent most of the day until about 3pm when Nina thought it was time to get active so off we charged to the tennis courts because "tennis is still fun with 3 people", apparently and the only reason we had to stop playing was when Nina finally volunteered the information that she wasn't really suppose to be running yet because of her knee surgery- let alone playing tennis!

I just found these photo's on a CD today- it's amazing how much of Nina's personality is captured so well in photo's- that smile! These pictures are from a couple of theme nights that we had at Boffa's- one was a country and western night (where Nina's led the line dancing classes) and the other was the Rover's Return (Coronation Street / English Pub theme) where we dressed up as the Spice Girls- with Nina as Baby Spice....

I also found a few videos from the Country and Western night, which are hilarious, but I'm not sure if I can post them on this website but could email them to someone in Nina's family?

Posted by Caroline Smith on Friday 21st December 2007 @ 11:37am

College Roommate

I recently learned of Nina's death and was extremely shocked and saddened. Nina and I were roommates for our junior year at Johns Hopkins. I have so many wonderful memories of our time together that are hard to put into words. A couple memories that do stand out are when we first got our lottery tickets to determine what dorm room we would reside in. Nina was in the top 3 and so we decided on a room with a view of the beach. We would frequently stare out the window to determine how many cute guys were out before deciding whether or not we would join them and what outfits we would wear. Nina would always help me with my fashion skills as she was a California girl and a bit more savvy in that department than me. Another memory was our spring break trip down to Cancun. Nina and I had both saved up what we thought would be enough money to survive for the week and booked the trip. After the first couple days, we learned our budgeting skills weren’t so refined. I remember the two of us going to a silver market and buying gifts for family and friends early on in the trip. A couple days later, we were both nearly out of our pesos. We started scheming on ways to get the most out of our trip on a limited budget and started stealthily sneaking into all you can eat buffets, making a run for the door at open bar nights to skip the cover, and nearly getting thrown off a public bus after bypassing the fare. I remember one night we met some high school kids who were on an all inclusive plan and Nina and I befriended them for the fringe benefits which looking back was a bit ridiculous since we were college girls. I remember Nina and I making human pyramids on the beach with them late at night and sneaking behind the bar for pictures with the bartenders. Nina was always up for new adventures and I really admired her worldliness and sense of fun. Nina came to visit me in New York City in the summer of 06 and we had sushi and cocktails and reminisced over all that had happened over the years since college. It was like we were best friends all over again. As I sit here writing this, tears come to my eyes, Nina was a fun girl with a great sense of humor and a person I was proud to call my friend.

I miss you Nina!

- Lindzerelli (as she used to call me)

I have lots of pictures of the 2 of us that I will post to the board when I get a hold of them.

Posted by Lindsay on Wednesday 19th December 2007 @ 7:39am

Nina's music

Nina owned a baby grand piano from the time she was ten years old. She was a natural musician and no one could identify where in her maternal or paternal lines that talent was based. But there was no doubt she had it. In my business at the time I spmetimes worked with professional musicians and composers. One of them became a good friend and came one night with his wife for dinner. Nina was two. For some reason, Nina was singing a popular song she heard on the radio, Thee musician told me "she's got amazing talent for her age. She has perfect pitch."
We didn't think much of it until Nina was five and she began playing her older sister's piano lessons. Soon Nina was taking her own lessons and impressing her teachers. She won a number of local music contests for young players and we ought a very good used Yamaha for her. She was good enoiugh to be admitted to the SF Conseervatory of Music and later, when she attended Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, she minored in piano studies at Peabody Conservatory.
She had the talent to become a professional but her restless energy demanded that she play sports, travel, spend time in the pubs, maintain an active social life, excel in her studies, and keep an eye out for new adventures. Nina knew that to succeed as a professional she'd have to dedicate her life to music. She chose to make a living as an urban designer and let music be her hobby.
That's how she happened to be in New Zealand and because her piano was too expensive to be shipped, she was a musician for over two years without an instrument.
Before she left Sasn Francisco for her first New Zealand job in Aukland, she invited Susan and I to her one room apartment on Russian Hill. It was on the fourth floor of a walkup and she had cajoled the movers to haul it up there. I recorded heer private concert. Much of it was played from memory so there are bad notes and some hesitations, but the musicality of her playing is to me remarkable. At one point you may hear the cable car at street level clanging its bell.

Download mp3's
See above...
Ninas 4th floor concert.mp3 (BIG FILE! 18.7Mb mp3)

This was recorded in the auditorium of University High School in SF in May of 1995 when she was a graduating senior. The piece is the last three minutes from the Back Brandenberg Harpsichord concerto. She's playing a grand pianoand thus can geet much greater dynamic control. In the month before she died, Nina and I had been looking for pianos that she might buy in Wellington.
Ninas H.S. bach cadenza triumph 1995.mp3 (1.5Mb mp3)

Posted by michael creedman on Friday 5th October 2007 @ 5:27pm

Last September

“It smells like Mill Valley,” Nina said and I knew exactly what she meant: autumn leaves, trickling creek beds, redwood bark, and just a dash of distant fog. Like expert wine tasters, we could identify the precise scents that filled the early evening air in our hometown.

On her annual visit from New Zealand, my sister reserved three precious days to “hang” with me, my husband and my two-year old son. I had recently moved back to Mill Valley and now Nina was finally here to help me reclaim the town we grew up in.

We roamed the streets of our childhood, our voices like ping pongs bouncing back and forth. Each block brought more stories until our sides cramped from laughter, our skins tingling with memories of blackberry picking, tree houses and high school parties. Mill Valley was our town.

As the redwoods transformed into towering shadows, we walked down the middle of the streets, so close that our fingers touched. Even though it was dark, I could picture her short, stubborn fingers that could serenade piano concertos and her muscular legs that could kick ass on a soccer field as well as under a sundress.

While our memories spilled around us, we planned for her next visit. She promised to come back the next September. I was newly pregnant and Nina hoped this baby would share her May birthday. She’d cook us gourmet meals with farmer’s market produce, cuddle the baby, teach my son how to play soccer, and help me burn off my baby weight with hikes on Mt. Tam. Maybe she’d even move home for good.

A year is a long time, but I thought we had the rest of our lives. It never occurred to me that it would be the last time I’d share Mill Valley with my little sister. Nina died six months later - just six weeks before the baby was born on her birthday. She would have been thirty years old.

Now it is September again and she isn’t here to kiss the baby or tickle Kai. She isn’t here to help me remember the Mill Valley we shared.

On good days, I feel Nina with me. She urges me to pick the blackberries, plums and other underappreciated fruit on our street. She laughs when my son bounces off the furniture in his Superman costume – the one she gave him for Christmas. She smirks when I put milk in the cupboard and car keys in the fridge. And on warm September evenings, she walks silently beside me as we inhale the smell of Mill Valley together.

Posted by Maya Creedman on Saturday 29th September 2007 @ 3:46am

Traveler, Observer, Girlfriend

Nina and I loved to discuss our philosophy that to travel is to live. We expanded the idea to include: to sketch is to see. Nina was so great at traveling, living and seeing.

She and I traveled together in over ten countries on four different continents. She taught me to accept a place for what it is rather than to impose my expectations on it. Most of our travel time was spent searching for the essence of a place. We never quite knew if we were seeing the essence, but we spent a lot of time wandering and sketching together.

I was with Nina when she filled her travel sketchbooks with observations, ideas, and character. When we sketched together, she often asked me to criticize her sketches. I would scrutinize her lovely drawings and see only her personality in them—they were so full of love, sweetness, and of course her energy. I used to tell her, ‘your sketch is fantastic, it looks just like you.’ She never liked this response, but it is nearly the only thing I ever told her about her drawings.

I miss you Nina. Thank you for your vision, your love and companionship. Traveling will never be the same without you.

Love, Eric

Posted by Eric Jacoby on Sunday 2nd September 2007 @ 4:52am

The Dipsea & More Thoughts of Nina

On June 10th, Lara, Adam and myself (Ezra was going to come too but, sadly, got really sick) volunteered at the Dipsea race in honor of Nina's memory. The Dipsea trail, for those who don't know, extends from Mill Valley to Stinson beach on these windy, steep trails with ocean views. Nina LOVED running this race & her family has been very involved with it over the years. Next year--it's a long way off, I know--Maya and I would like to run it in honor of Nina...Lara and Adam will I'm sure be volunteering in her honor. If anyone is interested in joining with either venture, I'll post the info about applying/volunteering come Jan.-Feb. 08.

Funnily enough, as Dipsea volunteers, Lara, Adam and I were assigned "road control"; we donned orange vests and stop signs as we (rather ineffectively) halted traffic while the runners flew by. We looked pretty darn dorky in our neon...Nina would have laughed her head off at us clad in all that bright orange for sure. But it was a fun, warm day on the mountain...Attached are some photos of the day, (we aren't, unfortunately, in our road outfits...so you can't see us in all our glory). I also added a picture of me and Nina on my 05 NZ tip when we tramped around Mt Cook and the S. island.

I still think about, talk to, and feel the warmth and friendship of Nina every day...mostly I hear and remember the sound advice she gave and the cheery ring of her cute laughter....she had such a cheery laugh. I also remember this one random time she took a big bite out of my chocolate chip muffin in NZ while i was at the atm (I was telling Maya this, Nina had gotten a small, sad looking 'health' muffin herself..) and it's such a random story but I remember she and I laughed about if for like an hour for some reason...we both loved sweet things and would fight over them...and then laugh at silly moments when one of us was liable to steal a nibble of the other's "goodie." I also remember a moment on our trip when an ice hiking guide was very condescending to Nina about her diabetes..implying she shouldn't do treks or exert herself because she had diabetes...I recall how offended she was that someone could think that she was not capable of dealing with her diabetes responsibly while at the same time pursuing her outdoor activities...clearly he did NOT know just how resolved and on top of stuff Nina was...she would NEVER have let anything like that hold her back! She gave herself blood tests while running the SF marathon with me while begging me to "tell her a funny story." That was Nina...a can-do spirit at all times

I know Nina will never fade in my memory or my heart as one of my very few childhood friends who was a real ally and strong influence on me from grade school, through high school, and then into our adulthood...I miss our setting life goals and dreaming of our ideal lives together they way we always would in our twenties. I miss her greatly, and always will. Losing Nins will always feel, to me, untimely, sudden, and unfair, always, a thing to be wrestled with (to no avail) as I try to understand. At the same time, I know that she stays alive in our hearts, and this provides a certain degree of respite, or solace, for me. Her caring warmth, her determination and courage, her spunk and vigor inform my life every day, every hour, and every minute....she will always be with me, laughing her head off, charging fearlessly ahead in her endeavors, improving cities, traveling, kicking butt in soccer, living it up…littering her living spaces with running shoes, silver jewelry, pictures of friends and family, and baking supplies… but most importantly sharing what made her uniquely herself: the brave, fearless, accomplished, jovial, giggly, laid back and endlessly caring Nina. She will always be with me.

Posted by Nina Rothberg on Tuesday 19th June 2007 @ 8:40am

Being a friend even in my dreams...

I posted about my friendship with Nina about 2 months ago (I can't believe 2 months have passed) but felt compelled to post again because of a dream that I had about her two nights ago.

In that dream, I was visiting San Francisco. Nina came to visit me at the place I was staying and because of a big storm that was passing through she was forced to stay the night. We ended up talking the night way and having a deep and thoughtful conversation like we always did. I got to tell her that I had just gotten engaged (In reality, Nina had met my now fiance when we were dating and was exited for the day that we became engaged). Towards the end of the dream I somehow knew that she would have an untimely passing and told her over and over again how much I loved her and how much her friendship meant to me. She got one of those little girlish grins of hers. I gave her a big hug and just held on because I knew it would be my last. The hug lasted till the end of the dream and I woke up still feeling that hug.

Even in my dreams, Nina continues to be a great friend and gives the most awesome hugs.

Posted by Vanessa on Friday 8th June 2007 @ 12:34pm

missing you!

I've been reading and re-reading all of these wonderful messages about ninz that her friends and family around the world have posted. They really capture the Nina who's been a best friend since I moved to SF in high school...we had so many laughs, stories, adventures and jokes that I keep remembering every day when I think of her. Nancy, Michael and Maya, you were like a second family to me out in SF and I can't wait to see you on my next trip out there.

It gives me such a sense of peace, even in my shock, that she continued to make friends everywhere and make such an impact through her work, her friendships, her sports, her baking and her overall passion for life. She truly lived more in her (almost) 30 years than most of us do our whole lives.

It was also so great to see Ninz in September...I got to show her my ultrasounds and she got to meet my husband Dan...phew, she approved! She has consistently been there for me...calling me on my wedding day from NZ since she couldn't be there, sending a NZ 'All Blacks' onesie for my son Davis when he was born, trading funny stories. I miss you tremendously ninz and will forever!

caroline

ps - attached some pics...us in Hawaii in high school, us in SF before she moved to NZ and a pic of Davis in his onsie from Ninz (we got her package 3 days before I heard the news of her accident, came complete with one of the Nina drawings in the card that she was famous for :) )

Posted by caroline (helwig) dudley on Wednesday 6th June 2007 @ 4:35am

nina

i last saw nina in New York in September 2006. i had every expectation i would see her again - perhaps when she moved to NYC. she said she was thinking that NYC would be her next move after New Zealand. i was looking forward to the day when she lived here...

i am sure that most of the people posting their thoughts here knew nina more closely than I did. i feel compelled to share a few stories about nina, however, because she made a big impression on me and i will never forget her. nina was truly special, and, as many others have observed, was the epitome of the "well-balanced individual." i met nina through San Francisco Bay Area urban planning social circles. the first time was at a "pie cook off" party hosted by a City Car Share enthusiast in some industrial loft/warehouse in Oakland. the fond memories of nina follow: coffee/ conversations at the Mission Dolores Cafe', more parties, indoor soccer matches at the Bladium in Alameda, soccer practices (training sessions!) at Kezar Stadium in Golden Gate Park, and pickup soccer games in the Presidio, long discussions on urban design and policy, sustainable transportation, music, relationships, U.C. Berkeley, conditioning strategies, soccer skills/techniques, the World Cup, many others. nina played on my men's indoor soccer team - and was one of the best players. standing out was effortless for nina. she just seemed to be good at nearly everything. she was charming, sincere, funny, had amazing energy and was a thoughtful and principled person. her observations on most anything we talked about were spot on. nina was the kind of person we need more of... i am still shocked that she is gone. it's unfair and it's senseless. she deserved a much longer life and the world would have been better for it. i know she will live on in the memories of everyone that knew her. she was an inspiring human being. i know i will always remember her. i know i will find motivation and strength in thinking about how nina lived her life and in what she stood for.

Posted by patrick j. duffy on Thursday 19th April 2007 @ 4:28am

Creeds

Creeds is a huge part of my life and my character. While we were friends in high school, it wasn't until we were both in San Francisco as 20-somethings that we became so close. Creeds, Nina R., and I would go out often to fun dinners followed by drinks or dancing and have a blast every time.

I saw Creeds last in NYC this past September where we went to kickboxing together, shared chinese and met Lev for a drink in the village. We never failed to get into the debate of transportation...she would walk 15 minutes uphill in the rain to get to the bus while I thought a healthy transportation system meant you didn't have to do that. We always felt as ease with one another no matter what we were debating. I haven't been able to bring myself to write until now...at the eve of her San Francisco/Marin memorial.

I have experienced quite a bit of loss in my life, but with Creeds it is different...so early, sudden, and unfair. Yet the fact that she was doing something she loved just reminds me that while there are absolutely no words to console and no way to ever understand this...the best way I can honor her is to live life infused with her spirit and charge the world in a way that would make Creeds proud...

Posted by Lara Ettenson on Sunday 15th April 2007 @ 6:51pm

Nina

THE GIRL WITH CHARMING SMILE.
WE LOVED HER MADLY.

Posted by Jun Kato on Sunday 15th April 2007 @ 8:58am

The Autumn light

Nina bounced into my life last winter, a fellow student on the alpine instruction course, declaring passionately: “I LOVE tramping!”

Vibrant and vivacious, with a sparkling zest for life, Nina inspired me in many ways. I admired her for her openness and directness. She was so good at asking questions that she always seemed to get details out of me that I hadn’t shared with many others. Nina was highly intelligent, multi-talented, generous and a whole lot of fun. With legendary enthusiasm, she was always willing to give anything a go, especially if it involved being outside.

At this time of year there’s this incredible Autumn light here, especially in the South Island. The landscape of the Mt Cook region is immensely beautiful at any time, but especially when cast in that light. On her final adventure in the South Island hills, Nina repeatedly pointed out to us the quality of the light and how it enhanced the already spectacular environment.

Surrounded by New Zealand’s highest mountains, on a day where the sky was impossibly blue and the snow was a blinding white, the four of us stood in the moment and took it all in. With a contented sigh, Nina burst out with: “Days like today just make me want to go out and play a game of soccer!”

In a week where she’d worked ten-hour days, she had made the time to bake us a delicious banana cake laced with caramelised peaches. She surprised us by transforming into a concert pianist in the lodge at Mt Cook village, stunning us with gorgeous classical music when we hadn’t even known she could play. She amused us with her adoration of her lime green gaiters, and her fashion dilemma that perhaps they would clash with her bright orange jacket.

I was with Nina when the accident happened. It happened very fast, she was unconscious immediately so can’t have felt any pain. She didn’t die alone, she was with friends who loved her and cared for her.

Although the Autumn glow can’t cast any light on why Nina’s life has ended so early and so suddenly, I’ll remember how much Nina loved the environment in that light.

Thanks so much Nina for your light and sparkle, you have been an inspiring friend and climbing partner. Haere ra, e hoa ataahua (farewell, beautiful friend).

Posted by Lou Thornley on Saturday 14th April 2007 @ 6:18pm

Memories of Nina

In writing this, I think this is the first step I can make to even begin to accept what happened to Nina. Despite the incredible sadness I feel, I want it to ring with a positive spirit because that is what Nina was about.

My friendship with Nina began as roommates in college at Johns Hopkins. I remember walking into my dorm room and being greeted by a pretty girl with a 1000 watt smile. She said "Hi, I'm Nina!" and shook my hand. Instantly, I knew that this girl was going to be a cool roommate. I think we were really fascinated with each other because we were so different. She's a West coast girl, I'm from the East. Her family is American and mine, Caribbean. In that tiny room in the AMR 1 dorm, we spent many a night talking into the wee hours of the morning. She loved to talk about Mt. Tam and her years at University High School. Nina was a great listener & confidant. We leaned on each others shoulders during the tough times that come with freshman year.

I admired how Nina truly defined the word "well-rounded". She could party Friday night, play soccer on Saturday, and spend Sunday studying for the Monday morning Organic Chemistry test .....and ace the test. She amazed me. I have fun memories of sitting in class and she would whip out her small purple worn baggie, fill a syringe with insulin, and give herself a shot within a matter of seconds. In seeing my look of surprise, she would stifle a giggle, smile, & give me a wink.

When college came to an end, one would think that friends from the opposite side of the country would go their separate ways. However, as we all know, Nina valued friendships so staying in touch was never really hard. During a couple of visits to San Francisco, she hosted me in Berkeley, took me to her mother's house in Sonoma, and baked the most incredible apple pies. She always thought about my international doll collection when she traveled so my shelf is full of dolls from all over the world.

I love how Nina appreciated the people in her life and expressed it. I think she packed more in her life than most and did it with a smile. I think a lot of that positive attitude came naturally but I think she also made a conscious decision to make the most out of her life. I think this is one of the biggest things I learned from her.

Nina, I miss you and wish I could have one more conversation with you. Thanks for remembering my birthday several weeks ago and I'll make a toast on yours.

Posted by Vanessa Laquinte on Saturday 7th April 2007 @ 1:03pm

that smile

I was so upset to hear today of Nina's untimely passing. So many memories of growing up together in Mill Valley overwhelm me . Playing Monopoly with her and being amazed how she'd roll the dice and and in an instant confidently plonk her playing piece on the correct destination without counting out each square. I was very impressed. She was always so smart and talented.

Lot of memories of ballet class and the carpooling to and from there with Lucy. All being squashed together in the backseat.

We lost touch after about 7th grade and seeing all the wonderful pictures of Nina as an adult how could I not recognize that smile and the twinkle in her eyes? That is my strongest memory of her - her beautiful energy and electric smile.

Posted by Blossom Wright on Friday 6th April 2007 @ 7:15pm

Another old friend says goodbye to Nina

I met Nina in the second grade. We were very close friends in elementary school, more like friendly acquaintances in middle school, only ran into each other occasionally in high school, and spent time together only once as adults. The pictures and stories on this site tell me that she was just as adventurous and fun and loyal as an adult as she was as a kid. I can't believe I missed knowing her for all those years and now it's too late.

Memories of Nina:
She was so smart, and so much fun. She and I were a little bit competetive throughout our friendship, which made me work harder in school. I didn't want to beat her, but I wanted to be in her league. I had to work hard to get there and stay there. I wanted her to treat me like an equal, and I was always sort of amazed and flattered that she did. In third grade, Nina came back to school with diabetes after the summer vacation. She was so matter-of-fact and open about it that the whole class was able to learn from her. I remember her giving herself an insulin shot in front of a rapt audience at my slumber party. It was her idea to show us--she thought we'd be interested, and we were. I felt so lucky to be her friend. When she had headaches at school, I knew where the acupressure point on her hand was and I could help her head feel better. She was so capable, it was rare that she needed me like that. On Valentine's day, when everyone else just gave each other cards, Nina sewed tiny heart-shaped pillows for the whole class. The pillow she sewed for me was especially perfect, and I hurt her feelings when I didn't notice that mine was more carefully sewn than the others. We wrote stories about hot-air balloons and Nina bet me a penny she could write a longer story. (I won that one.) We played spies with Nina R. and Jamie all year, the best and longest game I've ever played. Nina and I were on the same side. There were double agents, secret codes, the works. I remember hearing Nina play the piano for the first time when we were 8 or 9, and I realized there was a whole side of Nina I didn't know. I remember her big sloping back yard, her dog with the exotic name that I remember but won't attempt to spell, and long lazy afternoons outside. I hardly ever remember being inside with Nina. We were either outside at her house, or outside at my house, or walking somewhere up long, shady hills in Mill Valley. I remember her always having a tan, with sun-lightened hair. I spent the rest of my life inside reading a book. Nina always got me to go out, do something, run somewhere, climb something, learn something.

I just read the police report about Nina's climbing accident. If Nina had to die so young, I'm glad that she died while she was on an adventure. She was always full of energy and laughter and I like to think of her out there under the sky.

Posted by Claire McGuire on Friday 6th April 2007 @ 3:25am