Tribute to Meghan, Class of 1998

As a group of 38 young women, the Class of 1998 was one of the smallest classes to pass through the halls of Agnes Irwin. We not only knew each other by name, but even the least likely of friends realized some intimate detail about each others’ lives. So when cancer stole one of us away earlier this year, more than a decade after many of us had last seen her, we felt a palpable loss.

On February 5, 2011, at 30 years of age, our dear friend Meghan Murphy left this world.

While at Agnes Irwin, Meghan was a leader, always balancing academics with issues she felt passionately about. She not only sat on the student-faculty committee, she was active in advancing race relations among the study body and was a member of umoja—which in Swahili means unity. She was one of the few students who participated in a committee to recognize gender awareness, and she expressed her deep commitment to public service through her representation on Agnes Irwin’s community service board. She rowed on the crew team, but more importantly, she acted as a positive force between the different personalities in our small class. Her humor brought lightness to our classrooms, and her friendship was important to so many of us. Often inspired by Meghan, we selected her to speak at our graduation in Bryn Mawr. While sitting there together listening to her beautiful speech, it was difficult to discern between tears of laughter and tears of sadness. Her speech struck that perfect chord between nostalgia, anticipation for the future, and a sense of history.

Following her young career at Agnes Irwin, Meghan attended Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, where her commitment to the environmental movement flourished. After graduating from Cornell in 2003, she stayed among the hills, gorges, and the one great, long finger lake that comprises Ithaca, to start a biodiesel company and to become the editor of the book, Biodiesel America, which later became a movie. She volunteered at a local hospice care facility and threw the rest of her energy into working for T. Colin Campbell, the author of The China Project, the most comprehensive study of health and nutrition ever conducted. Like Dr. Campbell, Meghan was a fierce advocate of sustainable living and the vegan diet. She was also a soul-searcher, and from Ithaca, traveled to India to partake in a spiritual retreat. For Meghan, no adventure was too big. No cause she felt passionately about was unworthy of her sacrifice.

When she found out she would have to battle cancer, she tackled it head on, staying positive and seemingly hopeful during her last year with us. Through an online journal, she reconnected with many of us, writing about her struggles, making us laugh, when all we wanted to do was cry. One of the most telling photographs of Meghan posted last year was of her hula hooping on the beach in Florida—where she sought treatment and care—with a grand smile on her face.

As Meghan’s spirit looked around at those of us attending her funeral service, she saw a reflection of herself. Songs sung by her friends filled the halls of the Ithaca church. Each friend and family member who spoke recalled her energy and enthusiasm for life. Collectively, we buried Meghan on top of a large Ithaca hill, in a nature conservancy, far from the sounds of the roads below. The wind whipped snow to our brows and we followed a large draft horse that pulled a sled carrying Meghan’s body, which was wrapped in a biodegradable cloth. She became part of the Earth, as it always was a part of her—to the singing voices of those who loved her.

…Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home,
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.
I looked over Jordan, and what did I see
Coming for to carry me home?
A band of angels coming after me,
Coming for to carry me home.

Dear Meghan, may you rest in peace.