John and Mark, FinnFest 2023
I met John Simon by a quirk of fate. I’d never heard of the man until, after being asked to participate in FinnFest 2023 (on the strength of my Finnish American trilogy of historical novels, Suomalaiset, Sukulaiset, and Kotimaa) I noticed that a Finnish author with a strange surname (for a Finn) was going to join me on a panel discussing writing historical fiction for Finnish Americans, Finnish Canadians, and Finns. John Simon sounds Jewish, was my first thought. Having no knowledge of the man or his work, I Googled John, found his book Strangers in a Strange Land on Amazon, ordered it, read it, and loved it. An unusual blend of fact and fiction, Strangers covers ground similar to my second Finnish novel, Sukulaiset, in that it chronicles the fate of Jews in Finland during WW 2. Once I finished the book, I was anxious to meet the author. We emailed each other and, after inquiring whether John was bringing copies of Strangers to the festival to sell, and learning he was but had no means of selling them, I offered John table space in my booth. I believed in the book and John’s work and was happy to make the offer (which included running his credit card sales through my Square account). When we met in person for the first time while setting up my booth at FinnFest, we took an instant liking to each other. From there, we proceeded to spend four or five days together, every hour of the festival (outside of our time spent as panelists) talking about life, marriage, kids, basketball, writing, and our unusual (for FinnFest) non-Finnish heritages.
John had read the first novel in my trilogy, Suomalaiset: People of the Marsh, a story based upon the lynching of a Finn in Duluth in 1918. He was gracious in his praise for the book and, because much of the story takes place along the Cloquet River which flows in my rural backyard, I suggested we take a road trip to my “neck of the woods” so John could see for himself the landscape depicted in the tale. We drove to my home where John met my wife, René (another non-Finn!), wandered down to the river, and shared a meal at a local eatery as we continued to bond and talk and become friends. I can honestly say, John is one of the only human beings I’ve ever formed a deep and abiding friendship with in the blink of an eye. His personality was such that he made it easy to like him. Not only that, but his writing style was akin to my own, forming another basis for a bond.
In the end, John flew back to Helsinki, leaving me a few dozen copies of Strangers (and the routing number and account number for his NYC Wells Fargo account so I could make deposits) which I carted along with my books to various Finnish events. I sold them all and have heard nothing but praise for the book from those who’ve read it. After FinnFest, we shared a few long-distance conversations about our writing, lives, and families via WhatsApp (for an eighty something, John was darn tec-savvy!) during which he repeatedly thanked me for selling the copies he’d left behind.
A few months before his death, John called me on another topic. “Maybe I should’ve asked permission,” he began the conversation (his wife was on the line as well). “How’s that?” “Well,” he said, “for the past year my wife and I’ve been translating Suomalaiset into Finnish.” “Really?” “Yes. And we’re getting close to the point where I’ll have a friend of mine at the university make sure we’ve got it right.” “Okay.” Then, the man’s innate kindness rose up. “It’s such a great story, a story every Finn here in Finland should know, I want to see if my publisher here will publish it.” I was stunned. Such generosity. I can’t even imagine the hours he and his wife had spent on the project. “If it happens, John, we need to figure out your share of the profits.” As I said the words, I knew he wasn’t interested in money. That wasn’t the point. Still, fair is fair. “No, Mark. I’m doing this because I believe in the book. It’s great. It needs a larger audience.” Wow. I knew, from the beginning of the conversation, that John had recently battled a serious illness but he sounded like he was on the mend. After letting John vent a bit about Finland’s decision to landmine its border with Russia and the toll Israel’s actions in Palestine were taking on noncombatants, we said our goodbyes. Little did I know, as I hung up, that would be our last internet telephone call.
I remain amazed that in four or five days of personal interaction and over a half-dozen phone calls two men can become fast friends in this hectic, dissonant, disconnected, angry world. But that’s what happened. John Simon was a man of grace, poise, intellect, kindness, and wisdom who I was happy, however briefly, to know and call friend.
(Two Celebrations of Life were held, one in Helsinki and one in New York City, to honor and remember the life of Finnish American John Simon. Both were well attended, attesting to the kindness, goodness, and integrity of this fine man.)
Judge Mark Munger
Duluth, MN
