PORTLAND – On Feb. 20, 2026, John P. Driscoll passed away in Portland. He recently wrote the following:
“The alacrity and agility of death caught me off guard. Had breakfast this morning with a close friend, enjoyed the conversation and went home feeling privileged to know the guy. Got sick when I got home. This followed by abdominal pain necessitating a trip to the ER where they made the diagnosis quickly; pancreatic cancer with metastatic infiltration of the liver. All so fast.
So tonight, with a sense of urgency, I sit at my desk under a warm amber light and write this piece. I’ve rejected the formulaic approach, favoring more of a freelance way of thinking. This has made me an outlier, for good and bad, but it worked for me. With that outlook I’ve seen a kaleidoscope of experiences, success, failure, friends lost, disgrace, heartache and fear. This list doesn’t name love because love is the pinnacle of our existence on this tilted earth. When a darkness, rather the darkness, approaches with its alacrity and its agility, hold on to the hands that love you. Then go along for the ride.”
