I am tremendously saddened with the loss of Lennart Meri, the President of Estonia from 1992-2001 who died yesterday. He was one of Europe's greatest diplomats, fluent in six languages and the ideal representative for his small country. During the Soviet occupation he was a writer, anthropolgist, filmmaker and cultural leader. He was my boss, a mentor and someone that took a chance on me in my youth.
I remember stitting in his study when I was supposed to be introducing him to the web, and learning far more from how he could put it into perspective. How in a dinner with the head of NATO he could draw upon history to make his argument without confrontation. How he recounted his survival skills in private meeting with Yeltsin that required two bottles of vodka. How his curiosity and knowedge almost surpassed the professor that gave us a tour of Chichen Itza. How he taught me to speak slowly to be heard, act ethically for more than character, believe in freedom that is always at stake and showed me how diverse, deep and delightful life could be. He was, in a word, inspiring.
When I was working late at night with a cold, an isolated and ignorant American in the dead of winter, he brought me up to the west wing and he and his family gave me a homemade basalm. There was a very quiet moment there of care I will never forget.
I really can't recount or express my feelings properly. I can only say that his passing makes me realizes how much he gave to his country and to me. I never had the opportunity to thank him.
