Telling Stories, Sharing Memories Together
Please breathe, linger and remember. We can join together a bit here in our loss and the memory of an astonishing person and maybe find some comfort, joy and wisdom. Please share a memory (here). It can be a story, a photo, a moment, a lifetime.
The name of the site is honoring Gregory’s refrain of calling out this particular phase of the moon… and also his love of astrophysics.
Dr. Gregory Reinemer, Physicist
by Rufus Cone, July 2025
The day that Gregory first showed up in the AJMJ Hall Physics Building and stated that he planned on working for his Ph.D. in our lab is a day I remember. Betsie was with him.
During his graduate career, Gregory took on many tasks exploiting both his physics studies and his broad practical experience from previous activities. His most dramatic previous activity, to me, was as a bridge painter. When our lab group moved into in the new EPS Building in late 1997 and found ourselves in an empty room lacking much of the technology and capabilities we needed, Gregory like the other group members pitched in to return the group to productive operation. Todd Harris had helped a lot with the planning. Gregory, Todd, Charles, and Tom all pitched in with moving our equipment, constructing our new apparatus, and getting new and old equipment going. Gregory’s plumbing skills were repurposed to design and construct our multi-room vacuum systems, with giant 6” valves that he ordered and installed.
Gregory had an interesting Ph.D. project that was of special interest to our
collaboration with Scientific Materials Corporation of Bozeman and its founder Ralph Hutcheson. Ralph had developed a special process for Scientific Materials to use to create the Y 2 O 3 crystal at exceptionally high temperature. That crystal was among the literally dozens of expensive yttrium aluminum garnet (YAG) crystals that Ralph provided for Gregory’s thesis project. Gregory and the three other graduate students were helped by Dr. Yongchen Sun, who had completed his degree several years earlier. Gregory’s research was successfully completed, and he went on to several academic positions in Idaho and Washington.
After graduating from MSU, Gregory continued for the rest of his life to teach
Einstein’s relativity, another of his academic interests, to students in MSU’s online Masters of Science in Science Education programs. One of the directors said, “He was a highly valued instructor for the MSSE degree program. He continued to contribute to the success of our graduate students following his retirement. Our students (who are science educators) are so very lucky for the knowledge Gregory shared with them, and they will continue to pass along what they’ve learned to their students.”
Gregory was a gregarious member of the group, and I remember him
enthusiastically playing the piano at gatherings. I was honored and pleased for Gregory and Todd to visit with me in Bozeman in summer 2024. Thank you, Gregory.
“I Think We’re All Bozos on this Bus” was a Firesign Theatre album Fred, Lee, Gregory and I listened to back in those days, and this particular excerpt was one that Gregory could easily perform from memory, particularly if one of us started singing the song. Also the references to Artie Choke there and on another place in the album where Artichoke Mode is mentioned were the inspiration to the name of the Artichoke Mode (of the True Food Conspiracy) restaurant. Kent Christman
Back From the Shadows Again
(sung to the tune of “Back in the Saddle Again”)
♫ Back from the Shadows again,
Out where an In-jun’s your friend,
Where the vegetables are green,
And you can pee into the stream,
Yes, we’re back from the Shadows again ♫
“Howdy, everybody – I’m the Whisperin’ Squash”
“And I’m the Lonesome Beet”
“And I’m Artie Choke, and we’re just a joke.”
“And don’t be afraid, little people, ’cause we’re just Holy-grams!”
“Great!”
“Yeah, but what about you, pardner? What you doin’ today?”
“Can’t be much, Lonesome, nobody’s workin'”
“Nobody ‘cept us, and I’m gettin’ tired of standin’ here with these geeks a-gawkin’ at me!”
“Now you keep it sweet, Beet!”
“Listen here, leaf-head, I’m gonna pluck you…”
“Now, now, boys! Fightin’s out of style. Fun’s where the Faire’s at – in the Future, that is!”
“You can bet your roots, toots, it’s tons of fun!
“And technical stimulation!”
“That’s what I need!”
“And there’s lots more of me where I come from!”
“In Government inflicted simulation!”
“The future can’t wait – no place to hide!”
“So climb on aboard…”
“We’re goin’ inside!”
“We’re goin’…”
♫ Back to the Shadows again
Out where an Indian’s your friend
(Goin’ down, goin’ down)
Where the vegetables are green,
And you can pee right into the stream
(And that’s important)
We’re back from the Shadows again ♫
My husband and I found out we were pregnant a month after we moved to Olympia. We had moved 3 days drive from family to take a good job raising seeds for a local non-profit. It was a big move, but it would give us the money we’d need to afford to have a family.
As time went by I became more pregnant and we started earnestly looking for a house- a place to raise a family. What we fell in love with, a beautiful property at the base of the Black Hills, was a tear-down house, just west of Olympia. We dove in, head over heels (assuming life would settle swiftly once we had a child), signing the papers on my daughters due date, just as I was about to burst.
When our daughter arrived, a few days later, we realized just how much we would need to do to move in, and time was of the essence, we could not pay rent and mortage for more than a month or two: the floor joists were rotten, as was the back wall, there was no place to bathe in the “bathroom,” the roof was leaky, there were layers of asbestos flooring under moldy carpet, the sink counters were full of mold, not to mention the need for a good coat of paint, and a way to heat the house. It was going to be an undertaking! Sierra had a volunteer crew that showed up to help with native prairie plants at his workplace, and that is how we met Betsie and Gregory.
When they heard we had found a house and were planning to move in asap, they offered to come “help.” After that first Saturday, they came back again the next day, the next weekend and nearly every weekend after that for nearly two months. Betsie would hold the baby (Gwynnevere is now 12) while I scrubbed and painted. Gregory helped tear out the sink and replace the pipes, “Oh we can figure that out,” was a common refrain as he talked my husband through project after project. Sometime the second month I was staring exhausted at the back wall, Gregory came up and said “What still needs to be done?” I pointed at the hole in the wall where the window had been. Gregory said “Well I’m no carpenter, but I can help out.” and he proceeded to frame in a new window, right there on the spot.
It was as if we had won the jackpot-not our house, but these two amazing individuals (angels, really) were determined to help us feel loved and a valuable part of the community, worth investing into. It was such a special feeling, the way they worked together, chided each other, and helped the rest of us get through tough times.
I remember after we settled into our house and life with baby, a work colleague had a baby. I remember how much I felt ease in offering help to her–it was as if Gregory and Betsie had filled us up with so much love, we had abundant cups, ready to share.
We are so indebted to you both! Gregory certainly lives on in our lives-when we open the windows, & turn on the tap or use the old table saw he gifted us, it’s as if he’s here again smiling “it’ll be ok….”
Eowyn Smith
Gregory, how do you measure the significance of a 44 year friendship? Impossible to quantify. Your giddy laugh and infectious smile have remained alive in me since my 19-yr-old self joined the Blue Heron Bakery so many decades ago.
You have always been a wise one in my life: you mentored DIY sensibilities while making repairs and doing carpentry projects at that funky bakery building. I learned bread-baking and granola-making tips and tricks–and you taught me double-entry bookkeeping, which comes in handy to those of us who hop and jump through careers and collective enterprises. That crazy baby blue geodesic dome you built on the back of the bakery delivery pickup always made me grin as I traveled around town delivering bread and granola. I can’t find any photos, but it remains vivid in my mind.
Most meaningful was your knack for being in the present moment—always curious and engaged. You modelled warmth as a young father and I remember talking about the joys of kids in our lives… my encounters in collective households. You encouraged me to travel to the Whole Grain Collective Baker’s conference in Buffalo one year, and as Blue Heron got more involved in the collective bakeries cookbook project, the next conference had visiting bakers camping on your land!
I have loved reconnecting with you when I returned to Olympia recently–in yoga classes, socializing, at the co-op. So much gratitude to you, Gregory. Your laughter and smile remain a true gift that I’ll continue to pass on to those I meet.
Melissa Roberts
In his writing, Ticking of Time, Gregory pens his final few sentences, “And right there in the middle, between the immense and the tiny, lies the most important and most obvious to us of natures’s tickings, the human heart. Keeping time in a variable, more human, kind of way, moving faster as we move faster, slower as we calm down, changing with our state of mind. Perhaps this is the truest measure of time we can ever really hope for, perhaps the only one that really matters in the end.”
He died of a heart attack on March 21, 2025.
What an amazing man, an old soul, a man ahead of his time, with a vast appreciation of our natural world, a true teacher, a humorist to his core, a lover of life, learning, & sharing, and a heart as infinite as the universe. Gregory, my friend, you left us far too soon . . . go safely and radiantly on your next adventurous journey! You will be missed until we all meet again . . .
Margaret Jarrett
When we were growing up, and much like other siblings, our nicknames evolved weirdly.
Greg-Grag-Ragamuffin-Muffin-Muff
Leslie-Lester-Pester-Sapester-Sap
Somehow these names stuck through adulthood and it was common for us to greet each other by Muff or Sap! We always laughed when those names were used. Witness the imaginative poem I received one birthday about 30 years ago, complete with a graphic origin drawing 😂
“There once was an old maple tree
Too old to make syrup was she
So she spit out her tap
A young girl of sap
And everyone knew her as Leslie.”
Gregory was my big brother. We were only three years apart in age and while he pursued his own interests and likewise I did too, there was always a bond between us that lasted our lifetime. There were some gaps while we entered different phases of our lives but we always managed to stay connected in some capacity. After my husband passed away 4 years ago, he stepped up in his own way to look after me, as if it were now his responsibility. No matter how capable and confident I was, I appreciated him acknowledging he cared about me, showing an ongoing interest in my life and sharing more of his with me – he was always someone to laugh with, cry with, celebrate with and help each other remember our common bonds. A connection to our past. Gregory and I shared this connection and his death has left a void in my heart and soul but our memories together will always make me smile and warm my heart.
I am unsure how long I have known Gregory as we met when I was a child and at that point every one is just old to you even though I now realize he was was likely quite young when we met.
Gregory was part of my beloved Independence Valley farm community.
He was there along side Betsie at every potluck, birthday party, game night, dance party, natural disaster/flooding clean up and other events. I grew up playing in his back yard, waving at him on the porch, wandering through his barn, wandering into the house often unannounced just dropping by on a neighbor. I never thought about where he came from or that one day he would die. He was one with the Valley, ever living, ever there changing with each season.
I remember learning he had a life out side the valley and was dear friends with Debby and Keith ( who lived in Olympia) who were my friends! I Remember finding out as a young adult that Keith and Gregory had been friends for years and that their children were friends. I had known both these people for years and never had a clue. I was shocked but also delighted.
Betsie and Gregory invited me and my friend Cylas to go back packing when I was in my teens. What a blast. I slid down a snow bank twice. I have no clue if I scared my chaperones, looking back that must have been scary but they played it cool. if there are pictures from that time I do not have any. (Bets here: I found one! It’s below.) We hid in our tent from mosquitos playing cards!
My memory’s are so fond of that time. I remember thinking, “The Valley grandparents are so cool.” I never told Gregory that I sort of thought of him in this way.
It’s only been in the last two years that I have gone from relating to Gregory almost as if he was part of the land and me just a little fuzzy animal also on the land. This came when I invited him to both my wedding and baby shower. We got to be two humans for those last two years.
I was so overjoyed that Gregory came to my wedding. He and Betsie danced so hard, what a young spirit he has.
I did not get to see Gregory at my baby shower because he died right before we had it. Now my baby boy sits in our living room enjoying the beautiful mobile that Gregory and Betsie made for him.
Miss you, thanks for being one of the people who helped raise me in the valley.
River