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Mariah King Steinwinter Kochavi, an Army veterinarian, was born in Washington on April 1, 1980 to Mary Oren King and Mark Steinwinter. Along with her brother, Clayton King Steinwinter, Mariah grew up in the care of Bethesda Friends Meeting, thrived at Catoctin Quaker Camp, and graduated from Sidwell Friends School. She and Clay, who’s two years younger, were lifelong friends and teammates.

Mariah brought an almost regal presence to Meeting, with her long neck and dancer’s posture. She never spoke and, though close to many in the Meeting, did not join it. Nonetheless, her life’s witness shows Mariah as a practicing Quaker with much to teach us.

Pam Benson, her sixth-grade teacher, described Mariah at the time as “respected by her classmates for her intelligence, her kindness to others, her seriousness of purpose, her wonderful attention to detail and her artistic ability.” She said Mariah was “frank and often disarmingly truthful–and also very strong.” Another teacher recalled Mariah’s intense concentration at age nine as she perfected the lines of beak and claw in her drawing of a bird.

Actually, Mariah showed lots of veterinary tendencies in middle school: She rescued two baby robins who’d fallen to the ground in a storm, fed them minced catfood, and ultimately returned them to their mother. Not long afterward, she rescued from a cat’s mouth a mouse who came to live in her blouse pocket and sleep in her hair.

She also showed disciplined physical audacity, dancing with the Maryland Youth Ballet as a young teen and earning a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. When the strains proved too much for her body, Mariah took a summer off to work with horses and muck out stables at Little Brook Farm, a place of refuge for neglected animals, located in Old Chatham, New York.

Suzanna Strasburg Fitzpatrick, her classmate, oldest friend, and ultimately adopter of Mariah’s beloved dog, Chai, recognized two exquisite traits in Mariah: In a highly competitive school, Susanna recalled, “Mariah never wanted to stand out. She wanted to do her best without ever drawing attention to herself.” The second thing was, “Mariah was relaxed and easy, soothing, caring and nonjudgmental, and it was contagious. She was the happiest person I’ve met in my entire life.”

Mariah entered Pomona College in Claremont, Calif., in 1998. She majored in German studies and art, intending to become a scientific illustrator. As a sophomore, she met her future husband, Ramon Kochavi of Eilat, Israel, in a dorm lounge popular with Pomona’s foreign students and language majors. Over dinner at a Pasadena Denny’s a few months later, Ramon made a ring out of a straw wrapper and proposed. They married in January 2001. By then, Mariah was cramming into her schedule the science courses she’d need for veterinary school.

The switch was hardly a surprise for a couple that was pet-mad. Their 722-square-foot apartment was home, Ramon recalled recently, to a 60-gallon aquarium containing schools of fish; love birds named Sweetie and Rory, who was a biter; two female ferrets, Orit and yafit; two sugar gliders (Australian flying squirrels) named Mr. and Mrs. Bruce Lee; an iguana named Abigail, a bunny named Dirty Paws, and an umbrella cockatoo named Shooki. “It was a zoo,” said Ramon. “And we loved it.”

Mariah’s career-goal shift proved a brilliant decision for her and for the U.S. Army, which paid most of her way through Tufts University’s School of Veterinary Medicine in North Grafton, Mass. While there, several faculty noticed that Mariah drew well. “I just doodle a little,” she told Prof. Mary Anna Labato, who, after viewing Mariah’s work, asked her to illustrate a journal article. “Her work was remarkably precise and professional” said Dr. Labato, which is how Mariah came to contribute a drawing as well to the definitive Textbook of Veterinary Internal Medicine. At graduation she looked embarrassed when named among the top ten in her class.

In return for the Army’s support, Capt. Kochavi in 2006 reported to Fort Meade, Md., where she was vet to all of the roughly 150 security, explosive- and bomb-sniffing dogs that work for government agencies in the Greater Washington area.  In addition, Mariah and the 27 military and 11 civilian personnel who reported to her delivered veterinary care to active duty and retired military personnel at bases throughout the region. They included Forts Detrick and Meade, Andrews and Bolling Air Force bases, Carlisle Barracks in Carlisle, Pa., the Walter Reed Army Medical Center, the Forest Glenn Army Medical Annex in Silver Spring, and the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis. Mariah also served as food inspector for those bases.

On the Veterinary Command’s books, it was work of three officers and initially, at 26, with a Quaker’s uneasiness about command and authority, Mariah worried that she wasn’t up to it. First, she had to win the respect of working-dog handlers. They’re the most demanding clients a veterinarian will ever meet, according to Mariah’s colleague and successor, Capt. Shara Chance. She also had to win over career personnel made cynical by the constant turnover of inexperienced officers.

Mariah needn’t have worried, say those she worked with, including Capt. Chance, then a subordinate. “A lot of people don’t love officers, but a lot of those people loved Mariah,” said Capt. Chance. The secret, she thought, was that “Mariah respected everybody and what they did, and, while she didn’t talk a lot, when she spoke, everyone wanted to listen.” For that, and for her eternal gusto, “Everybody looked up to Mariah and after her,” said Thomas Arvey, the Veterinary Command’s human resources specialist. “She was the sister that everybody wanted to have.”

It helped that Mariah was cheerful about the split lip, dislocated shoulder and black eye that martial arts practices at Fort Meade left her with. It helped, too, that she was buff to the point of awesome, scoring 291 points out of a possible 300 on her Army fitness test. The feat included 81 push-ups and 103 sit-ups performed in two, two-minute sets.

In Mariah’s clinic, it mattered more that she was a superb diagnostician and a confident one, said Cpl. Wayne Butler, a working-dog handler recently retired from the Maryland Transit Authority Police. Coupled with Mariah’s intellectual skills, Cpl. Butler added, was generous and deep caring: “Mariah was adamant that if you had a problem with your dog, you needed to call her. She’d come in on her day off, the weekend, whatever. And when she saw you and your dog, you felt like you were the only ones in the world who mattered.” Said another working-dog handler, Emory Williams: “Mariah went out of her way for people she didn’t even know.”

Mariah was looking forward to deployment in Egypt’s Sinai Peninsula in the summer of 2008. She saw it as part of the adventure the Army had promised. It was also as a career step toward her long-term goal of becoming head veterinarian at the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology on the Walter Reed campus. But first she wanted to hike in the mountains around Machu Picchu in Peru.

A blood clot grew slowly at the back of Mariah’s neck over two mid-June days in which she hiked at the front of a small pack of climbers put together by REI. When headaches, dizziness, blurry vision, slurred speech and failing memory sidelined her, local doctors misdiagnosed the symptoms as salmonella, then spinal meningitis, rather than the stroke that eventually shut down nearly all of Mariah’s neurological functions.

The life reviewed thus far ended there. A life lifted mainly by others’ love began. The Army promptly med-evaced Mariah from Peru by Lear jet to Walter Reed. Doctors, nurses and therapists there and at Hunter Holmes McGuire Veterans Hospital in Richmond, Va., provided the finest medical care.

Among staff and friends, there was exultation that Mariah could communicate by moving her big right toe. There was new faith in miracles when Mariah rediscovered speech, an event captured on video on her father Mark’s loving chronicle, a blog called Mariah’s Reemergence. Mark and Mary-O moved in by turns as Mariah’s resident care-givers and Clay  came up from North Carolina regularly to spell them. When Mariah asked him to live with her at Walter Reed, Clay gave up his apartment, stored his belongings and looked after her. “We really looked out for each other,” Clay recalled recently. “She showed me it’s possible to find an abundance of courage in the face of overwhelming internal fear.”

Ramon, separated from Mariah before her accident, came to her bedside, too. One nurse brought Mariah her favorite movies to watch. A soldier’s mother made Mariah the floral quilt that she slept under. Many friends brought Mariah chocolates, her only known vice. Dog handlers showed how tough they weren’t. And Quakers who knew military bases mainly from picketing outside their gates discovered the awesome depth of heart in the words “Army family”.

There is as much reason to celebrate the love that people showed when Mariah most needed it, as there is to celebrate her remarkable, loving life. She ended what she described as her endless nightmare on Dec. 24, 2009. Mariah rests in peace. May her spirit live on in those who knew her and loved her.

Mariah and Mom, Mary-O King, at the Ft. Myer Therapeutic Riding Program (2009)

Saturday, January 16, at 2:30 pm, a Quaker Memorial Meeting for Worship service will be conducted at Bethesda Friends Meeting in Bethesda, Maryland. The service will be in the fashion of Quakers, featuring an hour or more of respectful silence punctuated by brief, spontaneous spoken messages that help us recall and feel connected to Mariah and to one another. A reception on the grounds will follow the meeting for worship. All are welcome, but seating is limited to about 200. Child care will be provided.

The meeting house is on the campus of the Sidwell Friends Lower School located in a residential neighborhood. There is some parking on the grounds, but if you are able-bodied, please park on a street in the surrounding neighborhood so that those less abled may park close by.

The meeting house address is 5100 Edgemoor Ln, Bethesda, MD 20814. You can get directions and a Google map at http://www.bethesdafriends.org/directions.html.

Please do not send flowers or gifts. If you wish to make a charitable donation in Mariah’s name, consider contributing to Little Brook Farm. See http://mariahsreemergence.com/2010/01/03/mariah-kochavi-memorial-contributions/ for instructions on how to do that.

Last Wednesday, January 6, a Moment of Remembrance for Mariah was observed at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, DC., where Mariah resided and worked on rehab for the last year. Attending were dozens, perhaps hundreds, of her fellow soldiers from the Warrior Transition Brigade, her commanders, doctors, therapists, caregivers and family. A poster-sized photo of Captain Kochavi gazing lovingly at us (left) was on display at the front of the assembly during the ceremony. Mariah’s presence in the hall was so real I half expected her to stride in quietly and take a seat.

The outpouring of condolences is so heartening. Mail, email, comments on this blog, and phone calls expressing sympathy and offering support pour in from around the country. Please continue to hold Mariah’s family in your hearts and prayers.

- Mark

The farm was founded in 1977 by Lynn Cross to house and care for horses and other animals that were rescued from neglect, abuse, or danger of destruction. In 1986, Lynn established a non-profit program called “Balanced Innovative Teaching Strategies”, or B.I.T.S., a therapeutic riding program for the benefit of children and adults with physical and/or developmental challenges.

Today there are over 60 rescued horses at the farm. In addition to Lynn Cross, there are 8 full time volunteers. You can learn more about the farm and B.I.T.S. at the farm’s website at http://littlebrookfarm.org. (Lynn apologizes that the site is out of date. She apparently spends more time rescuing and rehabilitating horses and generously helping people in need than keeping her electronic house in order.) And visit http://www.timesunion.com/ASPStories/story.asp?StoryID=865915 to view a recent article in the Albany, NY, Times Union about the farm’s involvement in a program to link needy children with adoptive parents.

If you would like to contribute to a worthy cause in Mariah’s name, we ask that you consider making a tax-deductible donation to B.I.T.S.. There is a page on the website for making online donations, but Lynn says there are problems with that, so please send checks only. Gifts will be used for general operations.

Make your check payable to Balanced Innovative Teaching Strategies, Inc. and mail it to:

Little Brook Farm – B.I.T.S. Program
PO Box 127
548 County Route 13
Old Chatham, NY 12136

Be sure to clearly indicate on your check that it’s in memory of Mariah Kochavi, and please include your name and address so your gift can be acknowledged.

- Mark

Mariah and Dad, Christmas Day, 2007

First, to the more than 1,000 visitors to this blog in the last two days, and to the dozens of folks sending emails and calling to express condolence: thank you.

Mariah touched and inspired hundreds of people, and it seems clear she’ll continue to do so for a very long time. Her obituary was printed in today’s (Tuesday, 12/29) Washington Post Metro section on page B2. The print edition includes two beautiful photos of Mariah. You can also view it online here.

Here’s what we understand about memorial arrangements for her. These may be subject to change, so check back here for updates before making plans.

Mariah directed that her remains be donated to science (she is the gift that keeps on giving), so there will be no viewing or traditional funeral  with a casket.

Next Wednesday, January 6, there will be brief Moment of Remembrance at 0800 in the gymnasium at Walter Reed Army Medical Center. This event is open but intended primarily for the soldiers in Mariah’s brigade.

On Saturday, January 16, at 2:30 pm, a Quaker Memorial Meeting service will be conducted at Bethesda Friends Meeting in Bethesda, Maryland. The service will be in the fashion of Quakers, featuring about an hour of respectful silence punctuated by brief, spontaneous spoken messages that help us feel connected to Mariah and to one another. All are welcome, but seating is limited and available on a first-come basis. Check here for updates concerning child care, time changes, address, etc.

Finally, sometime after 6-12 months, there will likely be a service at Arlington National Cemetery where Mariah’s remains will be laid to rest in a military ceremony befitting an officer of the United States Army. Our hope is that she will be borne from the cemetery chapel to her resting place on a caisson drawn by the same beautiful horses she loved so much at Ft. Myer.

The family is determining where donations can be made in Mariah’s name. That information will be posted when it’s available. In the meantime, please send cards or correspondence only to:

Mary-O King (mother)
4425 Chestnut St.
Bethesda, MD 20814

Clay Steinwinter (brother)
1206 Cotanche St., Apt. #1
Greenville, NC 27858

Mark Steinwinter (father)
181 Cabot Street
Newton, MA 02458

Thank you once again for your prayers and expressions of sympathy. Every single kind word and thought helps us move into a new world illuminated even more brightly by Mariah’s shining spirit.

- Mark

Dear Friends,

My heart is breaking as I write to tell you that our beautiful Mariah passed from this earth on Christmas Eve.

Army Captain Kochavi struggled to overcome multiple physical disabilities that resulted from a brain stem stroke she suffered while trekking in the mountains of Peru on Father’s Day in June, 2008. Even more difficult than the physical impairments were an intractable depression and inexplicable inability to see and accept the amazing progress she made.

For several months after the stroke, she could not speak, eat, swallow, hold anything in her hand, or even sit up unaided. Eighteen months later she was able to do all those things, and much more. Recently, she was even walking with the assistance of a guide dog for balance.

Mariah was brave, strong, and stubborn. We cheered her on as she poured her heart into work that was frustrating, physically painful, and often without reward, and she did so in spite of an entrenched belief that she simply wasn’t getting better. I’m certain that Mariah would wish us to be brave, strong, and stubborn as we face tough times – like this one – in our own lives.

A final thought: Mariah was unique and as an artist she shaped the spaces, people and ideas around her into unexpected forms. Even in reemergence, she managed to surprise by reframing what that could mean. My expectation was not that she would recover precisely all she had lost, but that she would figure out how to transform the broken parts of her body, psyche, and dreams into a new Mariah, different and in many ways stronger than before. Mariah gave that an honest shot, but she finally chose to give it another meaning altogether. Instead of rehabbing one body for another, she chose to reinvent herself as an angel, as a pure spirit, eternally free of limits. Unconfined at last, Mariah now inhabits the warmest and most intimate places in our hearts.

Farewell, Bunny. God bless you. We love you to pieces.

- Mark

P.S. When we have information about a memorial service and where to send cards and flowers, I’ll post it here.

Perhaps these photos (click on the thumbnails to see a larger image) will help you recall Mariah’s amazing life and works. I hope you’ll find yourself in here, either in person or in spirit.

Here’s a gallery of the event:

The next day Mariah and I made a day trip to Bethany Beach, Delaware, where we often summered when she and brother were kids. The day was cold, windy and wet, and Mariah was still under the weather, but she wanted to see the ocean so off we went.

At the Beach (Bethany Beach, DE, 5/09)

The drive seemed longer and the town smaller than I remembered. We took a quick peek at the old haunts, clucking our tongues at all the changes, then grabbed burgers and fries at Five Guys (one of the positive changes). Thus fortified, we plunged back into the blowing, chilly rain and made our way to the beach.

The nasty weather had driven all but the hardiest of souls from town, so we were pretty much by ourselves on the boardwalk at the top of the dune. I held an umbrella and read from All Things Wise and Wonderful while Mariah listened and laughed from under her hood. The charming and touching stories told by an English country veterinarian prevailed against the backdrop of the pounding surf and blowing wind, and we were warmed.

After a few chapters, we marched back into town. We bought some sweets at the Candy Kitchen and found some tasty gelato in a quiet cafe that would be a chaos of vacationers in just a few days. Then we  clambered back into her old Subaru Outback and pointed the bow toward Washington, DC.

- Mark

      I know it has been far too long since the last blog post.  Please accept my humble apologies for not posting since mid-March.  Mariah and I have been keeping busy as usual with the therapies and extracurricular activities.  We have spent the last two Thursdays horseback riding with the therapeutic program offered at nearby Fort Meyer at the Caisson Platoon.  Mariah beamed from atop the white horse “Clyde” last Thursday.  Her grin was actually so wide she could have swallowed Clyde whole had she been hungry enough!  The last week we have had the extreme pleasure of sharing our usual Stephanie Plum novel reading outside in this awesome Spring weather.  Thank God for it, I forget how difficult the winter is on the blues.  It is good timing for spring’s arrival, as I will be heading back to North Carolina in just a few short weeks, and Mariah is anticipating the change-of-care with apprehension and some fear.  Having some sunshine about will hopefully help her pull through the transition.

    The usual continues at the hospital.  Mariah and her physical team are digging at pain management issues to address walking difficulties that concern her knees.  She is going through some more MRI’s and Xrays, and is continuing her Occupational therapy with a current seven-week workbook to help her gain some handwriting abilities.  Recently Mariah and her case manager visited a residential reintegration program in Pennsylvania as a next-step option.  We gave it a thumbs-down due to the isolation that seemed to come with the small number of clients and the location of the program.  Our next step is under way as the Army searches for a battle-buddy for Mariah.  This would be another female soldier rehabilitating here at Walter Reed who can buddy up and assist Mariah; basically a partner system involving assistance, mutuality, and soldier comraderie.  Please send your prayers for this possibility!  

    I would like to give a huge “thank you”  to all our friends and family who continue to pray, to call, to send fan mail and care packages to Mariah, to visit us at the Mologne House, to the old faces who have shown up recently, to the nurses and docs back at McGuire Veterans Hospital who have sent their love and encouragement, and to the beautiful individuals who have shown up to help relieve me in the difficult recent weeks, and very importantly to those people who are stepping forward to companion and help as I take a big step back end of this month.  Thank You!

Love and Light,

Clay

Mariah and Clay (DC, 1/09)

After virtually living with Mariah in Washington and Richmond for most of six months, I’m finding it kind of tough to return to “normal” life. Back in Boston I rely on Clay’s nearly daily updates to keep me informed and aware of what’s going on in his sister’s – and his – life in Washington. (God bless you, Clay. You can’t know how much comfort I take in knowing your sister is in your caring and competent hands.)

She returned to Walter Reed in DC on December 11,  and since then I spent a week with her in December and again in January. Then just four days in February, and later this week another four days.

Cutting back has been a challenge. My concern for Mariah and now Clay as well sometimes blossoms into full-blown anxiety, especially when reports are dark with troubles. As hard as it was to sit by her side and watch her struggle, it’s harder to be hundreds of miles away and dogged by doubt and uncertainty for both of my brave, beautiful children.

I pray that Mariah will take heart in the old skills she has regained and the new ones she’s developing, and embrace her life with the commitment and determination that are the hallmarks her amazing story.

In the meantime, more often than not life goes on with plenty of humor and wonder and joy.

Here are the reminders of some of those from January.

Occupational Therapy (DC, 1/09)

Physical Therapy (DC, 1/09)

- Mark

Oh yeah, it is basketball finals season.  I am so excited.  I love the Red Sox.  I don’t know anything about sports.  Just not that interested.  …Until this past weekend.  Mariah and I just came back from Gettysburg, PA, where we spent two full days skiing with a group of wounded warrior soldiers from here at Walter Reed.  Mariah spent Friday  morning skiing in a sit-down adaptive seat with an instructor attached and helping from behind.  I grabbed some beginner lessons and proceeded to eat snow drift down the side of a mountain.  We had a blast.  In the afternoon we went snow tubing together.  That was a sight-to-see, I am sure.  We went attached down the slope; Clay in front feet-first, Mariah in the middle feet-in-Clay’s ears, and instructor in back, laughing at both of us.  Our third time down, we picked up so much speed that the people “stopping” at the bottom couldn’t catch us and we sailed on through and about broke through the protective mesh fence at the far end of the course.  (That was the part where I crossed myself and thought, “I can see it now: ‘Yeah, Mariah and I had a great time.  Huh?  Where is she? Oh, I might’ve accidentally sent my sister off the side of the mountain in a rubber donut. Totally not my fault, though, the army should’ve kept a closer watch on her.’ ”   I have a whole bag full of outrageous excuses for why nothing is ever my fault.  I am a little brother, and we all carry one of those bags around.

The weekend was truly a gift.  If anyone reading this post happens to have a friend or family member or know someone who needs assistance for athletic sports, if you are in the area (Liberty Mountain Resort), check out “brasski.org” first.  These guys (and gals!) have a phenomenal program for disabled people with visual, developmental, cognitive, and mobility impairments and provide great care and professionalism to getting people on the slopes and engaging in snow sports that they may have never thought possible.  Sorry for the advertisement, but this was a real memorable event and the folks who provided it are amazing.  

I was headed for a fairly tough intermediate level run this morning after hopping off the top of the lift when Manny and Mike (two of our one-legged skiers) hollered at me to turn left with them down the black diamond course that ran alongside.  I hollered out, “thanks but all three of us will have one leg by the time i fall down to the bottom of that run!”  They laughed and sped off.  Oh yeah, Mariah passed me on that blue-level course, and my instructors had just told me they didn’t believe I was a first-time skier considering my speed and ability to parallel and control, so I think Mariah could’ve been clocked at about 130 mph.  Is anyone surprised?  …Didn’t think so.    

Clay