I first met Desa in the early 80s. I was editing Judge Tom Berger's book about Native Alaska, Village Journey, and Desa was an advisor. We became wary friends at first but occasionally spoke by phone. We frequently disagreed but enjoyed discussing the clash of ideas and cultures that we represented. She was tough and unyielding one moment and kind and generous in the next. I liked Desa, and she liked me.

Over the decades I didn't always live near Desa, but we stayed in touch nevertheless--trading our thoughts and outlooks on issues of the day and sad memories of childhood and loss that came at night. It was one of the most intriguing, satisfying, and enduring relationships of my life, and I will miss her. The last time we spoke Desa confided that she had cancer and that she would die soon. She said, "Don't bother to call me again because I won't be here." Then she hung up. She was wrong about that. She's still here, and her words will always whisper truth to me.