Dear editor,
In response to Trevor’s trust fund supports Kus-kus-sum (Aug. 16 Record):
I recently heard about the generous contribution made by the Ashwell family to Project Watershed’s Kus-kus-sum initiative. The gift came from the trust fund for Trevor Ashwell, who died last November at age 25. In your August 9th article the Ashwell family says this is the kind of project Trevor would have supported. I wholeheartedly agree.
I had the privilege of being raised in the Comox Valley and attending high school with Trevor. Among the Highland graduating class of 2010, Trevor and I were voted by our peers “most likely to climb Everest.”
While I appreciate that this was the impression I gave off, I should have been the last person to receive that accolade. (My love for the outdoors leans more towards picking alpine flowers than navigating glacial crevices at 8,000m.) Trevor, on the other hand, was the worthy recipient of this honour.
After receiving the tragic news of Trevor’s death last fall, I was reminded of the Everest award. The duration of his life was incomprehensibly short, but what incredible heights he reached. Even—and perhaps especially—after becoming confined to a wheelchair in 2013, Trevor led a towering life. He cared deeply for the people around him and the planet. He adapted, seeking new opportunities; he had a firm grip on hope.
I remember coming across Trevor and his family once on a camping trip in Paradise Meadows. He was in his element—running circles around a crystalline lake, Ashwell laughter filling the mountain air.
People like Trevor make me wonder if we shouldn’t be measuring our lives in height rather than length; richness rather than years.
As I think about the Ashwell’s gift to the Kus-kus-sum initiative, I imagine the impact on eelgrass, salmon fry, and the small feet that will walk paths beside the estuary.
This project speaks of resilience, beauty, and hope, and I can’t think of a better way to honour Trevor.
Anika Barlow
Vancouver