Very Sad News about Devastated
Moderator: Super Moderators
Very Sad News about Devastated
I am very sad to report that I have learned that Sareda Milosz known to many Pirates as "Devastated" died this week. She was my first and dearest friend here and I loved her very much and I will always love her. Her wit, intellect, fairness, and compassion were legendary on this ship and among those who knew her. I miss you so very much, Sareda but am happy to know that you no longer suffer and I know that God has a special role for you now, just as he did in life. Those of us who knew you were truly blessed. Thank you for enriching my life.
Last edited by racehorse on 12-14-2006 12:50 AM, edited 1 time in total.
racehorse
I of course, didn't know her, but your reverence for her tells me she was a very special person! Sorry for your loss racehorse.
"The Constitution is not an instrument for the government to restrain the people, it is an instrument for the people to restrain the government -- lest it come to dominate our lives and interests." ~ Patrick Henry
The following article about Sareda conveys much about this courageous and noble Pirate.
________
http://www.atencionsanmiguel.org/index.php?engsearch
Sareda's toughing it out
By Lou Christine (June 2, 2006)
Sareda Milosz is dying. It's no secret. Sareda knows it. I know it. Her family and friends are coming to grips with it. She's aware of this impending article. She's well into the late rounds in an uphill battle, but she's hanging in there. The effects from procedures and therapies, along with the illness itself, have taken their toll.
Sareda's weak and emaciated. Sareda has no choice but to go the distance while coming to terms with the inevitable. Despite the dreary prognosis she holds fast to a glint of "hope springs eternal."
The malignant melanoma was diagnosed back in 1998. Surgery, chemo, radiation and every other "-ation" connected to medical science haven't been able to turn the tide. She's been treated on both sides of the border, often commuting back and forth from here to Nevada for treatment and to be near family.
She's now here in San Miguel, and it's for good. There will be no more probing, no more procedures nor the dread of going back under the knife. Sareda says, "Thank goodness that part is over."
Pragmatically, she says sees this moment as a pocket of time and space, to reflect and savor what she can. Long ago she sold the car. If her strength is up, and it's not too hot, Sareda enjoys a stroll through Centro.
These days, those pleasant interludes are fewer and fewer. "Seventy-five percent of the time I feel lousy … I'm often nauseous. The pain's mostly in my abdomen. It's the toughest part. It's more frequent …, " she says while catching her breath in between the painful rounds. During the most challenging moments she prefers to go it alone, riding it out and holding on until the next breather.
Admired for her upfront honesty, Sareda has overtly addressed her plight: "When I was first diagnosed I never felt more alive. I was willing to fight. The first few years weren't so bad." Still, she has no regrets. She's proud how she's chosen her own life path, like when she threw caution to the wind, passed on financial security and embarked into the unknown. Perhaps such reflection tempers the many medicines' bilious aftertaste. She's satisfied with the ride, what she's seen and with the essence of her existence. Those aspects within the bouquet of life leave a better taste in her mouth.
She brays some, too. Why not? Her aspirations to write lie dormant. Says she's lost desire. "If healthy I'd love to be involved in local media.… Even this, I'd even write about my fix, since it's something you don't hear much about, I'd write what it's like dealing with cancer, but unfortunately I haven't the strength."
A portrait of Sareda during healthier times is one of an independent, friendly lady with energy, enthusiasm, talent and moxie. She's known for having quick wit and possessing a delicious, warped sense of humor. She's always rooted for the underdog and stood up for the little guy. She's as tough as a tow truck driver if challenged and as tender as a pediatrician when called for. She's always been hands-on and a welcomed collaborator among peers.
Sareda Milosz was part of the flamboyant wave of colorful nomads who trail-blazed into San Miguel during the late '70s and early '80s. Sareda escaped the trappings of the rat race north of the border and serendipitously discovered Mexico.
Right away she embraced Mexico's language and culture and involved herself in journalism and theater. She became a tireless volunteer. Born Sareda Goux Ludwig on June 19, 1946, in San Francisco, California, her father was Jewish, from Russian extraction, and her mother's Swedish-American.
She and her younger brother, Richie, were extremely close, and they shared a love of the theater and a joint scatological sense of humor that continues to this day.
The family was basically not religiously observant but otherwise was extremely strict. They lived in upscale Woodside, a suburb on the Bay Area's peninsula. Strict family discipline erased any sense of privilege. No potato chips or candies or sodas-(M)these were addictions. The family had a swimming pool mostly off limits to her and Richie.
In high school, Sareda developed the two lifelong loves: journalism and theater. She acted and edited the school paper, attended U.C. Berkeley and earned a B.A. in journalism. Always a prolific and diverse writer, she even contributed to Catholic periodicals.
After graduating, in the tumultuous sixties, she married Tony, the bad-boy son of a Polish émigré poet. Later on, in 1980, her father-in-law, Czeslaw Milosz, was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature. Tony and Sareda lived an alternative lifestyle where heavy partying was part of the makeup. After seven years it finally sunk in that the party was over; they amicably divorced yet are on friendly terms.
Surprising in one so talented and educated, Sareda opted to work at the US Post Office. During the time, having to eat and pay bills out-paced flower power. Busted-out hippies found employment within San Francisco's postal system. Sareda found the job perfect. Despite the divorce her party mode was still intact, providing her a lifestyle of burning the candle at both ends.
She socialized into the wee hours, then shook it off and showed up at 5am to sort and deliver mail.
Sareda speaks fondly about her postal career. She discovered something invigorating and social. The job was mostly outdoors and offered good exercise. The money was considered good, and she was building up a pension. She saved money and bought and sold several houses, which enabled her eventually to move to Mexico while in her mid-30s.
In the late '70s Sareda took an unexpected vacation in Puerto Vallarta. The trip left an immediate impact, wiping away any previous perceptions about Mexico. For Sareda, Mexico's atmosphere and mannerisms meshed with her own lust for life. It was an eye-opener. Sareda marveled that someone could actually go into a farmacia and buy just one band aid, or one aspirin or just one cigarette. The simplicity of everyday Mexican life she found refreshing, way more so than the super-sizing taking place back in her society. Returning to Oakland, she sold her house, tidied up affairs, and moved to Puerto Vallarta.
Immediately she tackled Spanish, not just the formal version but the offbeat puns, and slang, mostly lipped on esquinas, during street talk. Although modest about her bilingual talents, during healthier times many tapped her for translation.
Later on, Sareda visited San Miguel and instantly fell in love with this old town. Puerto Vallarta was great, but San Miguel presented an additional appeal: a sense of community, a trait lacking in transient beach towns such as PV.
Sareda immersed herself in Playreaders and the Player's Workshop and contributed articles and proofread for Atención. Countless hours were spent working at Don Bosco's and Betsy Schell's orphanages. A true sucker for street animals, she's unable to ignore a sickly or deserted dog or cat. She'd whisk them home, fatten them up, and then find them caring homes. Even today, despite her illness, Sareda has her four dogs and two cats.
Sareda has had two runs at the editorship at Atención. Past contributors attest that she's been a terrific editor. She employed her special knack while remaining on the same page as authors; with a keen sense, she supported the writers, figuring out their slant and what they were trying to convey even though their angle may not have been apparent in original drafts. Sareda worked her magic by inserting more appropriate word choices, tinkered some with phrasing and, most of all, did so without the authors losing their original voice.
Sareda quit Atención the first time. She did so in a huff, culminating a dispute with the Biblioteca's board. She had gone to bat, or should we say gone to war, by peppering the Biblioteca's board with the logic that a long-time employee deserved a proper raise. Her replacement didn't work out. She was asked back. Nevertheless, her earlier stance substantiated an eagerness to perpetuate justice and reward loyalty. Her second stint showed a Sareda less likely to bite her tongue. Familiar disagreements persisted. She was terminated after little more than a year.
Her beef with the board had little effect on the surface and didn't dampen her spirits when it came to community service. She served as the local president of PEN, a worldwide organization supporting writers who have been censored or imprisoned. Good causes, human rights and activities involving the healthy state of children and animals remained high on Sareda's dance card. Her face and voice added flavor to local theater. Directors counted on her uncanny talent to mimic. She delighted audiences by imitating accents in an over-exaggerated manner, or by going kinetic, comically copy-catting a character's supposed body language.
Sareda also reentered the world of local publishing and founded El Independiente, a biweekly San Miguel bilingual newspaper focusing on cultural events. Issues concerning both the Mexican and expatriate community were front and center. The paper enjoyed a strong local readership, but financially a biweekly wasn't feasible. She and her team didn't want to take on the heavier workload to produce a weekly. The paper self-terminated after two years, in 2000.
Sareda went on to write for magazines and moonlighted as San Miguel's correspondent for Universal.
Until recently, Sareda remained committed to theater as both an actor and proficient producer. She remains on the board of directors of the Player's Workshop.
Her yeoman's work at orphanages hasn't gone unnoticed. She visited frequently, socialized with kids and staff, contributed clothes and food (often that favorite, pizza) and kicked in any extra money that came her way.
All those times and events are behind her now. How much time Sareda has left is anybody's guess. She's slugging it out. She no longer possesses a knock-out punch to beat this thing. Those she's helped and those who love Sareda would cherish the chance to jump into the ring with her and help her fight the fight, but that's out of the question; she's in this alone. Other than the Almighty, no referee will mercifully step in to stop this bout. She's prepared. Everything's in order. The 24-Hour Society has her last wishes. She still smiles, still laughs and can talk up a storm when she has the strength. She loves life and loves people and her animals. There are no more time-outs, and she can't be saved by the bell-yet Sareda fights on.
=====
Lou Christine is a local writer and long-time contributor to Atención. Special thanks to Sareda's good friend, Melanie Nance, for contributing to this article.
________
http://www.atencionsanmiguel.org/index.php?engsearch
Sareda's toughing it out
By Lou Christine (June 2, 2006)
Sareda Milosz is dying. It's no secret. Sareda knows it. I know it. Her family and friends are coming to grips with it. She's aware of this impending article. She's well into the late rounds in an uphill battle, but she's hanging in there. The effects from procedures and therapies, along with the illness itself, have taken their toll.
Sareda's weak and emaciated. Sareda has no choice but to go the distance while coming to terms with the inevitable. Despite the dreary prognosis she holds fast to a glint of "hope springs eternal."
The malignant melanoma was diagnosed back in 1998. Surgery, chemo, radiation and every other "-ation" connected to medical science haven't been able to turn the tide. She's been treated on both sides of the border, often commuting back and forth from here to Nevada for treatment and to be near family.
She's now here in San Miguel, and it's for good. There will be no more probing, no more procedures nor the dread of going back under the knife. Sareda says, "Thank goodness that part is over."
Pragmatically, she says sees this moment as a pocket of time and space, to reflect and savor what she can. Long ago she sold the car. If her strength is up, and it's not too hot, Sareda enjoys a stroll through Centro.
These days, those pleasant interludes are fewer and fewer. "Seventy-five percent of the time I feel lousy … I'm often nauseous. The pain's mostly in my abdomen. It's the toughest part. It's more frequent …, " she says while catching her breath in between the painful rounds. During the most challenging moments she prefers to go it alone, riding it out and holding on until the next breather.
Admired for her upfront honesty, Sareda has overtly addressed her plight: "When I was first diagnosed I never felt more alive. I was willing to fight. The first few years weren't so bad." Still, she has no regrets. She's proud how she's chosen her own life path, like when she threw caution to the wind, passed on financial security and embarked into the unknown. Perhaps such reflection tempers the many medicines' bilious aftertaste. She's satisfied with the ride, what she's seen and with the essence of her existence. Those aspects within the bouquet of life leave a better taste in her mouth.
She brays some, too. Why not? Her aspirations to write lie dormant. Says she's lost desire. "If healthy I'd love to be involved in local media.… Even this, I'd even write about my fix, since it's something you don't hear much about, I'd write what it's like dealing with cancer, but unfortunately I haven't the strength."
A portrait of Sareda during healthier times is one of an independent, friendly lady with energy, enthusiasm, talent and moxie. She's known for having quick wit and possessing a delicious, warped sense of humor. She's always rooted for the underdog and stood up for the little guy. She's as tough as a tow truck driver if challenged and as tender as a pediatrician when called for. She's always been hands-on and a welcomed collaborator among peers.
Sareda Milosz was part of the flamboyant wave of colorful nomads who trail-blazed into San Miguel during the late '70s and early '80s. Sareda escaped the trappings of the rat race north of the border and serendipitously discovered Mexico.
Right away she embraced Mexico's language and culture and involved herself in journalism and theater. She became a tireless volunteer. Born Sareda Goux Ludwig on June 19, 1946, in San Francisco, California, her father was Jewish, from Russian extraction, and her mother's Swedish-American.
She and her younger brother, Richie, were extremely close, and they shared a love of the theater and a joint scatological sense of humor that continues to this day.
The family was basically not religiously observant but otherwise was extremely strict. They lived in upscale Woodside, a suburb on the Bay Area's peninsula. Strict family discipline erased any sense of privilege. No potato chips or candies or sodas-(M)these were addictions. The family had a swimming pool mostly off limits to her and Richie.
In high school, Sareda developed the two lifelong loves: journalism and theater. She acted and edited the school paper, attended U.C. Berkeley and earned a B.A. in journalism. Always a prolific and diverse writer, she even contributed to Catholic periodicals.
After graduating, in the tumultuous sixties, she married Tony, the bad-boy son of a Polish émigré poet. Later on, in 1980, her father-in-law, Czeslaw Milosz, was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature. Tony and Sareda lived an alternative lifestyle where heavy partying was part of the makeup. After seven years it finally sunk in that the party was over; they amicably divorced yet are on friendly terms.
Surprising in one so talented and educated, Sareda opted to work at the US Post Office. During the time, having to eat and pay bills out-paced flower power. Busted-out hippies found employment within San Francisco's postal system. Sareda found the job perfect. Despite the divorce her party mode was still intact, providing her a lifestyle of burning the candle at both ends.
She socialized into the wee hours, then shook it off and showed up at 5am to sort and deliver mail.
Sareda speaks fondly about her postal career. She discovered something invigorating and social. The job was mostly outdoors and offered good exercise. The money was considered good, and she was building up a pension. She saved money and bought and sold several houses, which enabled her eventually to move to Mexico while in her mid-30s.
In the late '70s Sareda took an unexpected vacation in Puerto Vallarta. The trip left an immediate impact, wiping away any previous perceptions about Mexico. For Sareda, Mexico's atmosphere and mannerisms meshed with her own lust for life. It was an eye-opener. Sareda marveled that someone could actually go into a farmacia and buy just one band aid, or one aspirin or just one cigarette. The simplicity of everyday Mexican life she found refreshing, way more so than the super-sizing taking place back in her society. Returning to Oakland, she sold her house, tidied up affairs, and moved to Puerto Vallarta.
Immediately she tackled Spanish, not just the formal version but the offbeat puns, and slang, mostly lipped on esquinas, during street talk. Although modest about her bilingual talents, during healthier times many tapped her for translation.
Later on, Sareda visited San Miguel and instantly fell in love with this old town. Puerto Vallarta was great, but San Miguel presented an additional appeal: a sense of community, a trait lacking in transient beach towns such as PV.
Sareda immersed herself in Playreaders and the Player's Workshop and contributed articles and proofread for Atención. Countless hours were spent working at Don Bosco's and Betsy Schell's orphanages. A true sucker for street animals, she's unable to ignore a sickly or deserted dog or cat. She'd whisk them home, fatten them up, and then find them caring homes. Even today, despite her illness, Sareda has her four dogs and two cats.
Sareda has had two runs at the editorship at Atención. Past contributors attest that she's been a terrific editor. She employed her special knack while remaining on the same page as authors; with a keen sense, she supported the writers, figuring out their slant and what they were trying to convey even though their angle may not have been apparent in original drafts. Sareda worked her magic by inserting more appropriate word choices, tinkered some with phrasing and, most of all, did so without the authors losing their original voice.
Sareda quit Atención the first time. She did so in a huff, culminating a dispute with the Biblioteca's board. She had gone to bat, or should we say gone to war, by peppering the Biblioteca's board with the logic that a long-time employee deserved a proper raise. Her replacement didn't work out. She was asked back. Nevertheless, her earlier stance substantiated an eagerness to perpetuate justice and reward loyalty. Her second stint showed a Sareda less likely to bite her tongue. Familiar disagreements persisted. She was terminated after little more than a year.
Her beef with the board had little effect on the surface and didn't dampen her spirits when it came to community service. She served as the local president of PEN, a worldwide organization supporting writers who have been censored or imprisoned. Good causes, human rights and activities involving the healthy state of children and animals remained high on Sareda's dance card. Her face and voice added flavor to local theater. Directors counted on her uncanny talent to mimic. She delighted audiences by imitating accents in an over-exaggerated manner, or by going kinetic, comically copy-catting a character's supposed body language.
Sareda also reentered the world of local publishing and founded El Independiente, a biweekly San Miguel bilingual newspaper focusing on cultural events. Issues concerning both the Mexican and expatriate community were front and center. The paper enjoyed a strong local readership, but financially a biweekly wasn't feasible. She and her team didn't want to take on the heavier workload to produce a weekly. The paper self-terminated after two years, in 2000.
Sareda went on to write for magazines and moonlighted as San Miguel's correspondent for Universal.
Until recently, Sareda remained committed to theater as both an actor and proficient producer. She remains on the board of directors of the Player's Workshop.
Her yeoman's work at orphanages hasn't gone unnoticed. She visited frequently, socialized with kids and staff, contributed clothes and food (often that favorite, pizza) and kicked in any extra money that came her way.
All those times and events are behind her now. How much time Sareda has left is anybody's guess. She's slugging it out. She no longer possesses a knock-out punch to beat this thing. Those she's helped and those who love Sareda would cherish the chance to jump into the ring with her and help her fight the fight, but that's out of the question; she's in this alone. Other than the Almighty, no referee will mercifully step in to stop this bout. She's prepared. Everything's in order. The 24-Hour Society has her last wishes. She still smiles, still laughs and can talk up a storm when she has the strength. She loves life and loves people and her animals. There are no more time-outs, and she can't be saved by the bell-yet Sareda fights on.
=====
Lou Christine is a local writer and long-time contributor to Atención. Special thanks to Sareda's good friend, Melanie Nance, for contributing to this article.
Last edited by racehorse on 12-14-2006 12:49 AM, edited 1 time in total.
racehorse
-
Shirleypal
- Pirate
- Posts: 45448
- Joined: 03-06-2003 03:00 AM
Thank you Racehorse, I will miss her dearly, but I will always remember her with great affection. I loved her very concise comments to other pirates post and brilliant wit. I never come to FF without her entering my thoughts and will never forget her.
I’m deeply saddened by this tragic news even though I knew this day would come.
Rest in peace my friend for pain you will suffer no longer.
This is my favourite picture, to me known simply as Devastated
I’m deeply saddened by this tragic news even though I knew this day would come.
Rest in peace my friend for pain you will suffer no longer.
This is my favourite picture, to me known simply as Devastated
-
Dale O Sea
- Rogue Wingnut Pirate
- Posts: 17339
- Joined: 04-19-2003 10:10 PM
- Contact:
Wow, this news, even though it has been expected by me for quite some time, is truly hard to take. Dev was an amazing person. Bright, witty and on top of all the issues. I never skipped her posts. I didn't always agree but always learned something from her. She was, IMO, the finest, hardest working moderator here. She took her position very seriously and kept her rooms running smoothly with much great discussion.
Her suffering is finally done. The world is emptier with her passing.
While she was here she had me put up a little gallery of some of her pix. These are all nice, happy images. A good way to remember her and nice way to lighten this sad event up some. Here is a link if you want to check them out. Just click the image below.
And thank you very much for passing this on to us racehorse. I know you guys were very close so it must be very hard. Your contribution here is very much appreciated.
Her suffering is finally done. The world is emptier with her passing.
While she was here she had me put up a little gallery of some of her pix. These are all nice, happy images. A good way to remember her and nice way to lighten this sad event up some. Here is a link if you want to check them out. Just click the image below.
And thank you very much for passing this on to us racehorse. I know you guys were very close so it must be very hard. Your contribution here is very much appreciated.
Last edited by Dale O Sea on 12-14-2006 02:49 AM, edited 1 time in total.
Blessed Dev. God speed and may you grace heaven with the same fiery wit that endeared you to those of us who crossed your path.
My heart is deeply saddened for our loss. I was always hoping that she would come back and back-hand us when we needed it...
My favorite picture of her was when she was hanging out with Corvid & Joolz. I wish I had been a fly on that wall.
Thank you for sharing this news with us racehorse. The article was beautiful.
Let us all share a pint to her memory.
My heart is deeply saddened for our loss. I was always hoping that she would come back and back-hand us when we needed it...
My favorite picture of her was when she was hanging out with Corvid & Joolz. I wish I had been a fly on that wall.
Thank you for sharing this news with us racehorse. The article was beautiful.
Let us all share a pint to her memory.
Dearest Sareda my friend, you are loved and have been so sorely missed. Yet you now are in a better place with no more suffering. Where joy, love and peace abound.......you will be able to see all and know all..........
Your spirit has been with us for a long time now and will continue with us on our journey.
Your intellegent, kind and whitty ways gave us many smiles and some thought provoking ideas.
Sail along in the light Sareda and keep an eye on us so that we can sail smoothly through what our destiny chooses for each of us.
Thank you Craig for letting us know of your dear friend's passing. We truly appreciate it..........
Sareda..........May your light shine brightly.........miss you...til we meet again.........Kathy
Your spirit has been with us for a long time now and will continue with us on our journey.
Your intellegent, kind and whitty ways gave us many smiles and some thought provoking ideas.
Sail along in the light Sareda and keep an eye on us so that we can sail smoothly through what our destiny chooses for each of us.
Thank you Craig for letting us know of your dear friend's passing. We truly appreciate it..........
Sareda..........May your light shine brightly.........miss you...til we meet again.........Kathy
Last edited by tiffany on 12-14-2006 03:20 AM, edited 1 time in total.
-
Jon-Marcus
- Pirate
- Posts: 1409
- Joined: 01-08-2005 09:10 AM
- Location: Bonham, Texas
I only knew her as Dev, only knew her here. A friend I never got to meet in person.
But someday I will meet her .... standing there in the Light.
Viya con Dios, Senora Sareda .
Rest in the Light, Lady Dev.
"Scuse me. There's something in my eye....
But someday I will meet her .... standing there in the Light.
Viya con Dios, Senora Sareda .
Rest in the Light, Lady Dev.
"Scuse me. There's something in my eye....
"You have forgotten the face of your father." Roland Deschain
From a very funny thread' I found from search'...
This is Dev's last post.
"Devastated
Moderator - Hammock Expert
Registered: Dec 2002
Location: Geographic Heart o' Mexico
Posts: 5068
Why conch you just play some music? Shell we dance?
06-26-2005 04:40 AM "
~The Dance~
"And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end, the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance,
I could have missed the pain,
But I'd have had to miss, the dance.
Yes my life, is better left to chance,
I could have missed the pain
But I'd have had to miss, the dance"
****************************
Sareda'
May the music never end while your dancing in the light'...
This is Dev's last post.
"Devastated
Moderator - Hammock Expert
Registered: Dec 2002
Location: Geographic Heart o' Mexico
Posts: 5068
Why conch you just play some music? Shell we dance?
06-26-2005 04:40 AM "
~The Dance~
"And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end, the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance,
I could have missed the pain,
But I'd have had to miss, the dance.
Yes my life, is better left to chance,
I could have missed the pain
But I'd have had to miss, the dance"
****************************
Sareda'
May the music never end while your dancing in the light'...
Dear Sareda, your presence has been so missed here. As RH says we were all blessed having know you and I can't help think of you whenever I visit the ship. Your journey here is finished but a new one has just started. You are finally at peace, where there is no pain.
Much love to you Dev, we are better for having known you. And you will always hold a spot in our hearts.
Much love to you Dev, we are better for having known you. And you will always hold a spot in our hearts.