Welcome to our tribute to Di - actually, we should say your tribute. The main rule here is that there are no rules. Post as often as you like, and with anything at all. Your reflections on her life and her effect on you are of course welcome, but also tell us about the time you thought of her this morning while you were brushing your teeth. Tell us about a fun few minutes you had with her. Tell us about a not so fun few minutes you had with her! Diana lives on in the lives of all those she touched, and we feel as though the more we know from you, the more we can preserve her memory and more completely grieve her loss. Thank you!
    Mom (),
    Dad (),
    John (),
    Becca (),
    Allison (),
    Abi ()

Diana's Biography
Abi's Words from the Service
Allison's Words from the Service
Dad's Words from the Service
John's Words from the Service

Donations may be made in Diana's name to: Sierra Club, Cousteau Society, Northwest Earth Institute. Donations can also be made to the Diana B. Kornet Memorial Fund at Dartmouth College, c/o The Stewardship Office, 63 South Main Street, Suite 6066, Hanover, NH 03755.

Enter the Picture Gallery

Would you like to include a picture, sound, song, movie, or other multimedia item? We would love to put those up, too! Please email for details. He can also handle removals, problems, etc.

Please click the button below to add your own thoughts:

Dearest Diana:

I just donated a tree to be planted in your name in the Costa Rican rainforest. Smile down on it! Happy Holidays sweetheart.

I love you,
Dad Kornet

I recently moved to Portland and I've been thinking about Diana frequently.
I miss her and I wish she was still with us.
Scott 'Smitty' Smith

When I hear Hammer and a Nail or (especially) Moondance...my heart stops just for a minute. I remember the awful drop I felt when I learned of your death, and right afterward the amazing lift I feel when I think of how you lived your life.
Gretchen McNeely

Di, I saw you today quite clearly in Jack's face. It was startling! He was tubing behind the Gates motor skiff at full speed and the wind was whipping his hair around and he was just about to jump the wake on one side. Beaming. And there you were, plain as day.

It is so hard to believe that it has been 12 years since we lost you, but lovely young Rachel Diana turns 12 tomorrow, so that makes it real. You are still so much with us...and with some more than others – Allison's Sydney seems to be in close touch! We are glad you are keeping an eye on us.
Mom (dianadkornet(at)verizon.net)

Diana, you come to mind, from time to time.......you were such a wonderfully comforting presence and an inspiration based on the concept or living life to its fullest. It would be great to hear your laughter ringing in my ears, again, but my primary wish is that our friendship would have had the chance to grow old so that our giggles could become guffaws.
I miss you.

Thinking of you on your birthday, Di. I don't know what I want to write here, but I wanted to write something. I suppose I don't really need to write much, because you're currently with me, in my head, strolling down memory lane. Miss you!
Norm R.

8/22/2011. I had a dream about Diana last night. It was the kind of dream that follows you into the next day. I miss her.
Terry Campos

Just amazing that after all these years, Diana's voice and face are still etched into my brain. Some people are just so memorable, such emotional figures, so permanently integrated with those around them. Some people will never make sense of her absence. And some were lucky just to have been within spitting distance of her joy.

Di- Thinking of you today, no particular reason why. I miss you. I love hearing "Hammer and a Nail" when it plays on the radio - I can see your face, hear your voice and feel your spirit. Thanks for all the fun times.

It has now been over 10 years.

Still miss you Di!

Diana's life and your tribute to her life have meaning. Lauren Paulson http://www.bulletinsfromaloha.org/

I just paid a visit to Dartmouth for Homecoming weekend. It also happens to be the Dodecs' 25th anniversary this year, which they celebrated as they hosted the big Fall Fling concert. Dodec alums were invited to join in a small reunion, as part of the celebration. It was great fun to meet the young members, who were starving for a sense of the group's lost history. Given their lack of information, I don't know how they learned about Diana, but I was very pleased that, as part of their introductory remarks, they dedicated the concert to her. It was a fantastic concert, and I'm sure that Diana would have been proud.

Di and I were classmates at both Milton Academy and Dartmouth. We rehearsed and performed together and were friends for a long time. She was a key player in a number of events that turned out to be seminal moments in my life, but I never managed to thank her for that. In part, I credit Di with helping to put me on a path that has defined me, and I thank her for sharing some very memorable moments.

Di drove me to Dartmouth for my first visit, and since we both sang in our high school's a cappella groups, she said, "Hey, come join me at my brother's a cappella rehearsal." Then she said, "Don't forget to go to the Glee Club rehearsal." Well, I fell in love with Dartmouth during that visit, begged my parents to find some way to send me, and I ended up joining both groups, making life-long friends. Of course, I will never forget Di's unsolicited coaching in the hallway, just before my Dodecs audition.

Before we ever reached Dartmouth, our high school chamber chorus went on a musical tour across Kenya - a once in a lifetime trip for me. The group split into several vans for the duration of the trip, and Di and I shared our amazing music/safari adventure in tight quarters with 5 other classmates.

That barely scratches the surface. There were so many shows, concerts, road trips, and much much more that spawned unforgettable moments. Of course, I regret my sense of gratitude that went unspoken, but I'm always thankful for moments to remember her influence on me. Di is indelibly written into my memories. Miss you, Yener!
Norm ndr(at)alum.dartmouth.org

i just really miss you.

I have intended to write for quite some time on this site but always felt that my words would be lacking. However, I realize that it is of some small comfort to all the Kornet family to realize that those who knew Diana do think of her and keep a memory of her alive in their hearts. I knew Diana at Dartmouth. In fact, for a fateful period of time our sophomore year we both had difficult romantic relationships with two guys who happened to share an apartment down in the River Cluster and became fast friends as a result of it. Probably one of the best outcomes of that dating foray was the fact that I became acquainted with Diana. I loved Diana; she was irrepressible. Many times she made me laugh when I would have cried instead. She was bright, witty and just a great person with whom to procrastinate and pass time. Oddly enough, even all the years later, I still feel close to her at some level and when I am hiking or being mischevious, thoughts of Diana always come to mind.
Tamar Gerber

Thinking of the Kornet family today, Diana's 37th birthday.

I didn't know Diana as well as most of you here. However, I lived down the hall from her in the Choates (dorms) at Dartmouth in the fall and spring of 1989/90, both of our freshman years. I'm pretty sure that I first heard the Indigo Girls, whom I've loved ever since, when she played them (one of their very early albums) -- which she did over and over again! So, even though I didn't know Diana all that well, I still think of her sometimes when I hear an Indigo Girls song. I always wondered what she did after college, and it's good to know she was so accomplished and so loved. My condolences to all of you who feel her loss so deeply.
Jaron (Caroline) Kanegson

Just found out that Diana passed away. I was a member of her Kenyan family when she was here. I am in shock and will need some time to think it through. God rest her soul in peace.
Bradley Kisia (bkisia(at)gmail.com

Dear Kornet Family,
I have thought of Diana often through the years since her passing, and for some reason she came to mind to me today. I was pleased to find this website in her honor, and I would have written much sooner had I known how to get in touch with you.
I worked with Diana at Menlo School during my-our first year there. She was a breath of fresh air, and became my pal and confidante that first year, which ended up being my first of 13 years at Menlo (I left 3 years ago) Though she left after what I believe was one year, I always remembered her great laugh, her amazing dimples, and her love and passion for life. She was a wonderful influence on her students that year, and I know they remembered her fondly and were very very sad to hear of her passing.
Please know that I think of you and Diana often.´
Janet Tennyson 9-5-07

Dear Kornet Family,
You don't know me,but my name is also....... Diana Kornet
I saw Diana's accident on the internet,terrible!!!
She has the same name and same age as me!!!very strange for me to see!
But i wish all Family all the best of world!!

Greetings from Diana Kornet
The Netherlands

I carried thoughts of Diana with me on what would have been her 35th birthday.....I was in Santa Fe and knew she would have loved the creativity that's expressed in that town. My thoughts and a beautiful silk scarf she made for me kept her close that day........
Linda Kornet Chisari

merry christmas, di. ..........."RUN RUN REINDEER!!"

I first met Di in the most unpleasant environment -- organic chemistry. The summer of 97(?) she and I met in a summer school course as we dreamed of medical school. I don't remember our first meeting, but like many who encountered this remarkable woman, we became fast friends. We spent almost every day together studying, sharing stories, trading books, and making fun of our professors.

When the summer ended, we kept in contact intermittently. I moved to Louisiana for medical school, and was so excited when she told me of her admission to OHSU. I tried to keep in touch with her, but my emails never received a reply -- I assumed that school kept her too busy and planned to look her up during my next trip to PDX. While doing a rotation at OHSU in 2002, I tried to find her, to no avail.

One day last month, I was thinking about my good friend, who I had not spoken to in years. I "Googled" her name, and anticipated the thorough teasing I could give her for not returning my emails.

Instead, I discovered this website.

One month later, I am still in shock. My long-lost friend is lost to me forever.

I don't know what else to write, except that this unforgettable, exceptional person made an impact on me. Years later, I still think of her and our all-too-brief friendship. I appreciate the creators of this site for the tribute they have created.

Boy I haven't been here in a while. You guys are all fantastic. Just wanted to quickly relate a moment I enjoyed for Di a few weeks ago. That was when I saw this. Go ahead, take a look. Wow! What happened to my little baby sister?! Di would have absolutely LOST it over these pictures. So for Di, I told Abi: You GO girl!!

August 2004

Hello to family Kornet. My thoughts and prayers are sent out to you regularly every time I think of Di - and this is often.

I come here because I am finally ready to formally honor Diana in song. I wrote this a few weeks after Diana died in 2000 and have been working hard to finish the CD that will send it forth to the world. My new CD comes out in October and "Song for Diana" will be track number lucky 7. I'll include the lyrics here..

Song for Diana
Music and Lyrics: Nicole Campbell
Dedicated to Diana Kornet 1971-2000

There must have been a time and place for you,
I guess it's just not here.
You always went for the greatest view
even if you had to wade through fear.

Diana, Diana.

You took every bull by the horns
and wrestled them to the ground.
Could walk a mile in a field of thorns
and never ever once make a sound.

Diana, Diana

If I could hold your hand one last time
I'd look into your endless blue eyes and say
"Never, never, never stop climbing."

You always had the greatest way
of fixing everything.
The only peace that I have today
Is knowing in heaven you're doing the same damn thing.

Diana, Diana.

If I could hold your hand one last time
I'd look into your endless blue eyes and say
"Never, never, never stop climbing."

Diana, Diana,
Diana, my Diana.

with dearest love,
Nicole (campnicole(at)nicolecampbell.com)

it's 2004 and i miss her still. i still get that involuntary instinct to phone her. my arts professor has her hair, my classmate andrea has her handwriting, and my friend val recounts a story the same way-- she doesn't just use her own gestures, she has to handle me into position to re-enact the other motions she's remembering. you have no choice but to participate.

Dear Kornet Family,

I worked with Diana at Dartmouth when she was a UGA and I was a residential life professional staff member. My apartment was in the Choates and, as you know, that is where she worked as a UGA. Everyone wanted to be with Diana. When UGA placements came out, one by one each Choates UGA came in and said "I don't know if you have done floor placements yet, but could I be on the floor above or below Diana Kornet?" Once I met her I understood why. She was smart, funny and lovely. I appreciated her directness and enthusiasm. She was a treasure and I am glad to have known her.


Mary Liscinsky

How often have I visited this site? Read and reread the words that moved me to tears at Diana's memorial service? I return here every time I am feeling lost, self-important, lonely, scared, full of love. Diana was an acquaintance in life. In her death she is a guiding force as is the strength of the love of all of you. Thank you for sharing it.

Eulogy to Diana, to the Dartmouth Club of Oregon, June 2000:

Walter Bonatti, a famous mountaineer said this..

"The mountains are the means, the man is the end.
The idea is to improve the man, not to reach the
top of mountains. Climbing only makes sense if
you consider the man..."

Critics will say that such pursuits are a waste, never having enjoyed the heightened sense of life they bring.

I vividly recall the unreserved support on my first climb. Diana, seeing that I was having a difficult time up the sandy, St. Helens slope, gave me the strength and help to reach the summit, a summit I thought too distant, to painful to reach. That was one of my first climbing moments ever, and a memory of Diana I'll always keep -- completely selfless, providing encouragement, arms outstretched. I would not have done it without her. Any ascents I have achieved and future ones I dream of, I owe something to Diana who inspired me and pushed me to continue

The Dartmouth Family is deeply saddened by the loss of this exceptional women. Her deaths stop us and we still have a hard time believing it is true. We are forever changed. Our lives can never go back to the way that we were before. Perhaps it will be that our lives will become more fully realized for having known her. Her passing reminds us that this is a precious gift, this life, and we have the opportunity to wake up to that gift, today, now, in the moment, tomorrow and in our futures. We are always inspired by people who make the most out of life, acting on their dreams. Certainly Diana did just that and we hope that in the sadness and grief that follows her death we can all remember her life and how she lived. We have lost an amazing person but, her spirit will summoned in our daily lives and her memories will be in our hearts forever.

We are here, then, not to mourn, but to celebrate the life of Diana Kornet, whose thirst for adventure and for life was stronger than any thought prompting to her stay away from the mountains and wilderness which she loved. I am sure Diana died in peace; for death hit her doing what she loved, surrounded by her friends.

Today, her friends are gathered and though we must bid farewell to her voice, we shall never bid adieu to the her spirit.

So please raise your glasses in a toast, to Diana Kornet, our dear friend, as we say to you, in your own words.

Ok, then! Thank your for playing.
Randy Bloom, Dartmouth 1991

On Monday, June 17, 2002, at 04:42 PM, rbloom(at)r-source.com wrote:

Dear Kornets,

You probably don't know me. I am a friend of Diana's. She was an
inspiration to me. And for some reason, where ever I went in Portland, I
bumped into her. As a Dartmouth grad, we shared a common bond. But I
gravitated towards her enthusiasm for enjoying the moment. Diana and I
summitted Mt. St.Helens twice, once on summer's volcanic earth and again
on winter's snow. A full circle.

I was to have been with Diana that fateful day but for a twisted ankle
and a late flight back fromBoston, I cancelled at the last moment. I
wish I could have come even if the outcome remained the same, for being
with her, climbing, and talking shop, was always a wonderful time.

At her memorial, I was silent, choosing to listen to others, rather
than be heard. My wife Kristin has asked that I send you my thoughts
and my words given to theDartmouth alums and climbing crew immediately
following the accident. The time seems right now, so I have enclosed
those thoughts.

I have often thought of Diana, but not as much as I do today. For
today, I realize that Diana's untimely departure marks the very day,June 4th
2002, that my daughter, Kate Margaret Bloom, was born. Today, I again
shed more tears for my loss, but also tears of joy for my happiness.
Again a full circle.

As Kate grows up I will always try and encourage the best in her. And
know that in some way I will want to instill in Kate much that was
beautiful, compassionate and adventurous, in a word, Diana.

I hope life finds all the rest of the Kornet clan as well as can be. I
wish you all the best.

Randy, Kristin, Kate Bloom (and Bruno the Swiss mountain dog)

Attached: Letter & photos


i love u soooooooo....... much that one can ever estimate.u really are the queen of peoples hearts.And mostly,u r a RARE DIAMOND.u will live in our hearts forever.u r alive in this world,di.i know u r alive.

I find myself returning here often to read about Diana and just think about her and enjoy missing her, if that is possible. I wonder at the emotion she still inspires in all who knew her, but to those who knew her best, I'm sure there really is no wonder at all. At times, she helps to give me peace. Another precious gift.
Mike Keller

What an unwelcome shock, to go looking up a friend with whom I'd lost touch, and to learn the news so late. Diana is one of those rare people of whom I have no bad memories. We knew each other mostly through the Glee Club, and even those few times we ever found ourselves at odds, I was comfortable because that determination of hers was one of her strongest charms. She was so outgoing and so sincere...a woman impossible not to love.
Michael Sutherland (agramante(at)gso.uri.edu)

What an exquisite song lyric, Nicole, in that first sentence of your entry...

Right now i am studying at the National Theater Institute for the spring semester and i wanted to share a moment that my class and i had the wonder of experiencing a couple days ago. Prior to the start of NTI, we were asked to write a list entitled "Things I never told..."--fill in the blank. I wrote a 37 item list under "Things I Never Told My Sister, Diana" stemming from the idea that the only reason I had never told her these things was because it wasn't physically possible to do so anymore. Each student read aloud a list other than their own and the moment after my title was read, a little collection of birdies outside the roof that seemed to be nested in the eaves of the low-ceiling building we were in, started chirping. After a couple items, the sound seemed to dissipate and the birdies scattered away...My friend continued reading the list, though after she finished, the class (who are asked to make comments) remained silent for a strong solid minute. And then someone said, "Man, those birds were creepin' me out!" and the rest of us chimed in in agreement. (FYI, my entire class here at NTI knew about Diana from maybe Day 3 when we were asked by our design teacher to share our best and worst moments...) I thought of the oriole that appeared outside the church window at Di's memorial service.

A friend here at NTI wrote a play based on the African-American belief that the bird carries the soul to peace after a body has died.

A teacher (and an old soul) I have connected with here told me that when those "coincidences" happen, it is Diana guiding me with her hand so lightly resting on my shoulder, and so softly pushing me along. Funny. I haven't felt this happy and this peaceful for so consistent a period of time in a long long while. Happy Birthday, Di. I'm sure glad you were born.


I come here as I prepare myself for Diana's birthday to come upon me simultaneously like a sucker punch and a warm breeze in the dead of winter. My thoughts are so full of her that I know she lives in all of us in a way that only she could. I miss you, my dear Diana, and I know that in both my most glorious and most difficult moments I feel you strongly by my side.

It's surprising to find myself here. I actually made my way through Abi, little does she know. I've heard enough about Di to know I should have met her. My thoughts are not expressible now, yet I'm drawn to the pendant Abi now wears around her neck. I saw it in the pictures. It's wonderful to think she lives on in your thoughts, and in more ways than you think.

I was lucky enough to have been a student of Diana's when she tought at OES. I was a part of the A capella group she started there. I had a dream of Di the night I learned of her death. The time frame was about a day or two before the start of the trip. All I can remember of the dream now is thet I knew what was going to happen, but could not tell her. I also remember her just sitting and smiling at me. There was little, if any, conversation between us. It was heart breaking, but at the same time very comforting to be in her presence. I awoke frome the dream not being able to tell if it had actually taken place. I can not express how blessed I feel to have known Di. She still has a profound impact on my life today.
Ryan Taylor (ibrt(at)mindspring.com)

Just a couple of days ago I thought of Diana. Dartmouth had been after me about getting my pledge returned for it's anual fund raising. As I wrote the check, Diana's name suddenly popped into my mind. I wrote in the space for a note: in memory of Diana Kornet '93. (of course had I been more on the ball I would have checked this web-site and made it out to the fund in her name) Thinking back, I didn't know Diana very well. My main connection to her was through her sister, Allison. At some point my senior year, Allison told me that Diana had coined a nickname for me. This was quite endearing, because I always give nicknames to my friends, whether they know it or not. The funny thing about Diana's nickname for me was that it was silent. In fact it was a gesture that expressed the state of my uncountrolled hair. She would put her hands on her forehead with the fingers pointing in all different directions. e.g. "Where is (insert rooster-finger-gesture here)?

after reading al's entry, i'd like to rewrite mine before it and not sound so philosophically mournful. because, really, whenever i DO think of di, it's something that makes me laugh at the memory of it. and i have a lot of them to put up here but not right now as i am on my way out the door, onto a ferry, off the island of the vineyard, and into my car, and off to school. and since that sequence seems so exhausting in itself, i will share a short memory of di and how she pretended to sleep...she would put her cheekbone down to her shoulder, close her eyes, and let out a miniscule snore and whistle, at an unusually high speed. it was her power nap, or "cat" nap as one might put it, because within about 10 seconds she would be "awake." al is right on--di had so many intonations of her voice--she played with it for amusement. a favorite, for example, is Animal (the muppet) screaming "run, run, reindeeeer!!" .... or Miss Piggy singing "BUH DUM BUM BUM BUM..." after her five golden rings of the 12 days of xmas...

i have been working at a copydesk saturday and sunday nights, and every time we get the newspaper out and have down time before proofreading the third edition, i check this web site to see if anyone is remembering diana here this week. sometimes it depresses me when there are no new entries --i want to know that others are keeping her vivid, and i crave anecdotes, tend to revisit the same favorites in my own head when i want to have her expand in my mind instead. isn't it awesome when a new recollection does pop up? it's like she's visiting for a few more moments.

di's speech patterns are what keep coming back to me, like when she'd drop the "g" off of "-ing" words when she was feelin good, or when she would sweetly ask if you needed "slubbuh-duh-bubbuh" when you were sleepy (i think that one came from Mark!). the other evening when di's old buddy schlitzy and i were out seeing "the score," apparently i did an unwitting diana impersonation when he asked how i'd guessed early on that de niro actually had the scepter, and i told him it was because i was "wicked pissah smaht." i don't know if it was my accent or my general obnoxia that made him think of di, but in any case we laughed at the living reminder.

here's another gross memory, and you should stop reading here if you don't want to be utterly disgusted and embarrassed for us all. the last time i remember being MAJORLY, unspeakably pissed at diana was when our family was on the hiking/rafting trip diana had organized out in oregon, and i happened to be getting my period bigtime. well, damned if on the hour diana didn't FOLLOW me through the woods collecting cardboard tampax in little plastic baggies because she insisted they were bad for the environment. i was in shock at her officious violation of my privacy, and the family was divided over her actions for several miles of hiking. see now? not all memories need to be pleasant ones. they're all fun. that's all for now. write if the muse moves you, please!
allison 8/12/01

every day i think of di and how there is not a day that even goes by that i don't think of her. and whether i liked it or not, today i was forced to. on my lunch break at work, i decided to check my email "just because" and in my inbox was an email from one of my closest friends regarding her father who had unexpectedly passed on in his sleep because of a heart eurythmia. the moment i saw "sad news" in the subject heading of the email, i knew something was wrong and most likely it was going to hit close. and i cried. i don't know if i was crying for diana or for my friend's father or for the idea of unexpected departure in general. my boss told me to take the rest of the day off. i said no, i'll be fine in a little bit. there's no need. and i was thinking to myself, i don't need the day off, this is just a moment like any other, it will pass. but my boss said, "no, but you're heart won't be fine. your heart needs the afternoon off." sure enough, the moment passed and i was fine, but at the same time, i knew my heart did need that time to recompose itself.

this summer i've been lucky enough to have been able to breathe deep into my heart and soul and really truly learn something that we only think we are aware of, but what actually takes time to discover--what the heart consists of and what the soul feels like.


Allison wasn't able to join us for dinner last night (June 4), but wished she could be there. We just had a great weekend with her up at Craig & Sharon's wedding - a place and event that yearned for Di's presence. All the scrapbooks Craig had out from Glee Club tours and the like were full of Di. We missed her so much. We sang a ton, and one voice was so obviously missing.

Last night Mom and Dad and Abi came over to have dinner. We opened up a bottle of Edgefield (one of Di's favorite Portland wineries - she was always so mad that we kept it on the rack so long - "You're supposed to drink it, not look at it!!" she'd say).

Mom is of the mind that this will be the only year we "mark" June 4, so that from now on we can concentrate on the great things about her and not the sad. I think I agree. We also have so much joy in this week, with Rachel turning ONE today and Jack turning 3 on Thursday. Hopefully it will soon be "their" week. You can bet our family will always be calling each other on Di's birthday (Feb 24) - a much happier day to celebrate, for sure!

As the first year anniversary draws near, my thoughts are with the Kornet family and all who knew and cared for Diana. May we be at peace and find harmony with this reality. I struggle to find the appropriate words; instead I offer a John Gorka song that we used to share. Take Care.

Love Is Our Cross to Bear

I didn't know where to look for you last night
I didn't know where to find you
I didn't know how I could touch that light
That's always gathering behind you

I didn't know that I would find a way
To find you in the morning
But love can pull you out of yesterday
As it takes you without warning

I want to be a long time friend to you
I want to be a long time known
Not one of your memory's used --to-bes
A summer's fading song

It's from me, it's to you
For you eyes
It's a weight, a wonder that is wise
I am here, you are there
And love is our cross to bear

I know I'll think of us upon that hill
With the golden moon arising
And the stars will fall around us still
While the love is realizing

And so it is until we meet again
And I throw my arms around you
You can count the gray hairs in my head
I'll still be thankful that I found you

It's from me, it's to you
For your eyes
It's a weight, a wonder that is wise
I am here, you are there
And love is our cross to bear

Buh, I miss you.
Love, Mark

This Friday night is a show I have put together that is very near and dear to my heart... Last year at this time I lost my closest friend, Diana Kornet, to a climbing accident on Mt. Hood. She was the most vibrant woman I knew. Incredibly full of life and soul and touched everyone she knew deeply. Although I miss her terribly every day, she would have wanted her life to be more celebrated than mourned. So that is what I intend to do. Diana, being the musician that she was always managed to be the number one fan of her good singer/songwriter friends. I have put together a show with some of my favorite singer/songwriters to perform at Dante's Inferno in downtown Portland this Friday night, June 1st, 2001 in her honor. The will be a celebration of the life of a woman who will live on forever in my songs.
Nicole Campbell / campnicole(at)nicolecampbell.com

my women's rowing program at the national cathedral school here in DC is naming a boat tomorrow morning after diana. they never met her, but many were at her service and understood what an inspiration and support she was to me, and through me, to them. what i like most about this honor is that the boat we're naming is a new kind of hull that is virtually indestructible-- you can stand on it upside down and charge it into reefs (we've done both)-- whatever, it lasts. john would like it because it's sleek and black. and its brand name is "RESOLUTE," a pretty fitting adjective for di.

diana was always interested in crew, though her night-owl social energy didn't lend itself to morning practices and at dartmouth she was way too into the singing groups to swing both scenes. but i do remember diana coming out to a practice of mine in LA, after we had both graduated. she watched from the launch, remarking about how beautiful the motion was and admiring the kind of shape the rowers were in. ultimately, she had me dictate erg workouts to her over the phone so she could practice herself. when i later lost my own erg workout sheet, she sent her dictated copy back to me and i had to laugh: in her funny handwriting, she had written down all the set repetitions with MUSICAL repeat signs (the two bars and the two dots). which makes perfect sense, of course, since rowing is so musical and rhythmic. i think of her every time i use this sheet to set a workout for my team.

later that day in LA, it turns out, diana and i had a favorite moment with a friend of mine who was driving us by motorboat out to catalina. zipping out there over the waves at max speed, we started travelling with a huge school of dophins which magically pursued and preceded us, twenty or more of them jumping up near our bow and racing alongside with effortless grace. diana and i lay on the two sides of the bow point and flew our hands out over them in the water. they were clearly playing, and so were we. we felt like we were 4 and 5 years old. exquisite. a reminder to all that we certainly have lived well.

i check in on this page every so often just to see what's been put up lately and today i wanted to add something i was thinking about yesterday.
i've got 12 days to go in my sophomore year of college. the fact that i'm going to be a junior next year is a weeee bit scary. it seems like just yesterday i was the little sister going up to dartmouth to see my siblings in dodecs concerts, crew races, jazz performances or the annual family weekend. now it's me at college. what i was thinking about yesterday is the fact that these four years of my life are the first years i feel i truly connect the most with john, al, and di. and with that comes needing them the most. how di fits into all this is that i felt the most connected with her in particular. we were alike in lots of ways and always seemed to be on the same wavelength...at least in the same category of wavelengths! she's that one person who i felt understood me the best, and i can't hear her voice on the other end of the phoneline and i can't get guidance from her with certain situations. i talk to her, though. constantly. and i feel her with me all the time. but i can't hear her and not being able to hear diana is just not right. of course, i can hear her voice and her laugh all too clearly, but only in my memory. and when you can't have a conversation with someone, you begin to realize that being able to have that conversation with that specific person is the best thing in the world.
it's hard to believe it's almost been a year but i've learned so much about me and about life....and i sure hope she's doin' ok.

Happy 30th Birthday, dear Diana. We're all thinking of you and wishing you could help us celebrate. As I look at your picture on my desk, your smilng face brings tears from my eyes and I song from my heart.
(Aunt) Linda Chisari

I still remember the phone call from Becca, as if it were yesterday. I'm starting to cry as I write this...I never know when it's going to hit me, and it always hurts so much. "Celebrating the Life of Diana Bradford Kornet" has been framed and is hanging on my wall, overlooking my computer. Di is smiling down at me with her spectacular grin.

Rachel Diana will be 8 months old tomorrow morning, and, as I celebrate the joy she has brought into our lives, I'm aware of the loss I continue to feel.


I had the privilege to know Diana through our work in clinical trials. I am the monitor that inspected the work that Diana did at Northwest Gastroenterology clinic. It is my responsibilty to ensure that all the data was collected, that it was authentic, clear and complete. I have never been more impressed with a study coordinator than I have been with Diana. Her attention to detail was remarkable. She worked with a sense of dedication to the patients, to Dr. Bennetts and to the quality and integrity of the data. I was always impressed with her thoroughness in capturing and reporting the study information. It is through her efforts that her clinical site had the highest enrollment of study subjects out of 53 investigators. And the second place enroller wasn't even close. The high enrollment is a testament to the enthusiasm and energy that Diana invested into her work, as with everything that she did.

Besides my respect for her work, I have great admiration for who Diana is. She showed me her personal side as we became friends. I always looked forward to coming to Portland because of Diana. It is very sad now when I come to Portland because it will always remind me of her, and I miss her very much. I am still reviewing the notes that she kept for the study. I have had to overcome much grief with her passing before I was able to express these feelings for Diana.

I offer my deep and sincere condolences to the family and friends of Diana.

Danny Estrella

While channel-surfing last night, I watched about 10 seconds of an infomercial for a huge CD retrospective boxed set of The Beatles. There was vintage Paul McCartney singing "Hey Jude" ... I just burst out laughing all of a sudden, and of course my wife looked at me with the strangest expression.... What made me laugh so hard was a brief flashback of Diana at Dartmouth. As I remember it, we were in a Dodecaphonics rehearsal and someone started singing "Hey Jude" -- Di jumped in with her own lyrics, which somehow surfaced in my brain last night.... I think it went like this: "Hey Dude...... I saw you nude........ Don't try and fake it...... I saw you naaaaked....." I have no idea where those words originated, but I'm left with the rather wonderful visual memory of Diana singing them, and grinning from ear to ear.
David Martosko (martosko(at)email.com)

Hello, everyone. As you can see, I've just finished a massive addition to our picture gallery, including a top 110 list that deserves some explanation. After our fantastic 1996 trip out to hike and whitewater-raft in Oregon (planned and led by Di), we got together and created this top 10 list of great things about our trip. Well, once we all got going it ended up a top 110 list. I then set to making a digital collage-type thing with the list and the pictures I had taken to give to Di as remembrance and thank-you. Alas, it never got completed. (If we had only kept it down to ten...) I figured this was probably a good time to finish - in classic Kornet style, I am really really late.

It has been four months now. I have recently returned to work from maternity leave, and with this move away from chasing children and toward a more sedentary day has come more time to think about Di. In fact, I seem to find myself thinking about her whenever I'm alone and have quiet time to think.

I often listen to music at my desk, and certain songs have become emotional triggers for me. I'll listen to a CD I've listened to a hundred times before and for the first time realize that a song is so clearly about death. I've found myself getting teary-eyed while listening to such a song, yet I'll play the song over and over during the day, because it somehow feels better to be immersed in how I'm feeling.

Diana was my sister-in-law, not my sister, so I have often felt a certain sense of guilt for my deep sense of grief at her passing. I didn't grow up with her, I wasn't her college roommate, or a part of her wonderful community of friends in Portland. Do I deserve to grieve her loss as much as John, Al, and Abi do?

My grief has several components. First and foremost, I grieve for John, Allison and Abigail, and John and Pokey. It is heartbreaking to see my husband and my wonderful family of in-laws in so much pain. I cannot even imagine what it would be like to lose my sister Emily. As a parent, I can't comprehend how one can come to terms with losing a child. I also grieve for my two children, Jack and Rachel Diana, even though they do not now understand the loss they will someday be told about.

Although we have been told not to be regretful about what she will not get to do, and to focus instead on the unbelievable life she led, I find it difficult not to grieve for the future that will not be. As a parent, I feel a particular sadness that she missed the opportunity to be a mother. I picture her singing a baby to sleep in her house in Portland, or gardening with a young child in the backyard, teaching her about the importance of the environment around us. She was wonderful with our son Jack, and they adored each other -- she would have been a terrific mom.

I think also of specific missed events of the future, particularly Christmases in Cohasset. We used to joke about what it might be like someday when we'd all have kids -- wondering whose child just knocked over the lamp down the hall, each of us hoping it was someone else's.

But I also grieve because I miss my sister-in-law and my friend. I remember our days at Dartmouth, particularly Dodecs rehearsals and concerts. I remember being upset when she snapped at me during one rehearsal, and John responded by telling me that was actually good news -- she was treating me like family!

I remember Christmases past with presents she made herself -- jewelry, food, linens made to match the home decor of the person for whom she was making them. And I'm sorry she had to see that we hadn't yet finished the pickled peppers that were still in our fridge the last time she was at our house!

I remember our tremendous Portland vacation, where we enjoyed so many of the things Di loved -- hiking, camping, white water rafting -- all done at such a level that couch potatoes like yours truly could join in with relative ease.

I remember the fun of having her sing the Creation concert with us this past New Year's Day, and how proud (and jealous!) of her we both were, because she got to sing a solo in Jordan Hall. Before the concert, we sat in our kitchen transferring our group's markings to the score of the version she had just sung with her group in Portland. The two versions had distinctly different translations, and we had so much fun arguing back and forth about which one was better. I will never forget us laughing about her version's text, "the light and FLUFFY snow," which John and I thought was just hilarious for a serious piece of music (ours said "the light and FLAKY snow," which we deemed to be much more mature).

I remember our last phone call, brief as it was, the Wednesday before the accident. She was calling to let us know where she'd be at various times during her business trip east that week, wanting to make sure we could reach her quickly if we had the baby. I remember we put Jack on the phone, and he said, "Hi, Di!" -- which was a lot of phone conversation for him at that point.

I think there's a part of me that still -- four months later -- simply cannot believe that she is gone. She had such an enormous presence on this earth...it seems impossible that the world could keep turning without her. Although the accident itself took but a moment in time, the impact of her passing is still as strong now as it was four months ago.

I remember being home with her on xmas break or summer vacation and sitting in front of the TV with our lunch that we had just made a mess of in the kitchen...watching soaps. It was almost a ritual to do this with my sisters when we were all around, but now it had become a special treat on special occasions like these. If Days of Our Lives was going sour, Di would flip the channel to All My Children (an all time favorite of the Kornet sisters).I remember several times that Diana and I sat there going gaga over this one character named Sonny on General Hostpital. He left the show at one point and we were both so devastated but when I called her to tell her that he was back, she exclaimed "HE IS?!? No, he's not...REALLY?!?" Now, whenever I see the show (when I accidentally hit the "on" switch of the tv at 3 in the afternoon, of course) I see Sonny and think of Diana. One viewing, Di was eating tuna fish with mayo, onion, celery--the whole bit--in a bowl on a bed of lettuce and an added twist of lime juice. So I ended up trying this lime juice recipe and now I usually add lime juice to my tuna fish and think of Di in the green chair in the living room curled up watching Sonny. The littlest things we remember...
abi kornet

I remember the phone call from Becca, at just about this time, a month ago. She wasn't calling with the exciting news I had been waiting for, hoping for, and expecting all day long. Instead, she called with the unexpected, unwanted, and still unbelievable news that would change all our lives forever. As I sit here tonight, July 4, 2000, rather than weeping for my grandchildren's loss, I promise to do my part to keep Auntie Di's memory alive.

Wait a minute. Was Diana a freshman when I was a senior at Dartmouth? Surely I knew her for more than one year. It seems like she must have been in the Dodecs with me for years. She had such a big presence. I still remember her audition, and everyone in the Dodecs looking at each other and smiling wordlessly, by way of saying, "Obviously she's in." I still listen to the tape of my final Dodecs concert, and there's such a sweet, humerous exchange between her and her brother, my friend John, as they sing a duet clearly not meant for a brother and sister! This website has helped me to grieve her loss. I can't believe how much time has passed since I saw her last--my impressions of her are so strong. I clearly remember staying at the Kornet household and singing in their church, and feeling the strength and solidity of that family. That solidarity is now a blessing and a curse--a curse because it makes the pain so much sharper now, a blessing because you had the magic of a tight family for all of those years, and you can count on each other now for support. My thoughts are with you. And, Diana, I bet you are dancing on the moon.
Jessica Silver jessess5(at)aol.com

Much to my regret, I never spent as much time with Diana as some of the people who have paid tribute to her on this page. However, over the few years we spent together at Dartmouth, I feel as though I came to know her as well as most. She had an uncanny gift for connecting with the people in her life and making them feel special that I try to learn from even today. Her conversation was so empathic, her appeal so genuine. How could someone be so vulnerable and so centered at the same time? Her manner could put you immediately at ease. Trust was unavoidable. I treasure those moments now, moreso than ever. Soon after I heard the news of Diana's death, I went home and quietly hugged my daughter. Diana is teaching me lessons still. I will miss you friend.
Mike Keller

I am a new doctor, starting my residency, and was thus not able to make Diana's service this week. A few years back, Diana met me for dinner in New York. I had just been accepted to medical school, and she told me that she too wanted to become a doctor. "But, Gregoire," she said "my grades are not quite as good as yours..." We decided that in spite of that, when there is a will, there is a way. I reminded her about a talk we had had many years ago. We had finished a Dodecaphonics (our college a capella goup) rehearsal, and she invited me to dinner "for some advice." She said she was frustrated about her decision to major in Biology, because she had just received a poor grade. "I love Biology," she had said, "but it is clearly not what I do best." A big smile came to her face, and at that moment she decided it did not matter, she was going to do what she loved and keep her major. I believe that this was her approach to life in general. I really, really respected that quality of hers. I only knew her at Dartmouth for two and one-half years, but in that time she taught me a lot. I wish I could share with her my excitement and anxiety about starting a career in medicine; I feel lucky to have had my life touched by her.
G. Abel (gaabel(at)partners.org)

My reading at Diana's memorial:

On June 4th, 2000, at approximately 7:20 AM, my dearest friend Diana Kornet was swept from the top of a mountain, her favorite mountain. Each of us is here today because we deeply cared for Diana Kornet. Everyone who knew Diana loved her in their own way, no matter how much, or whether we knew how much until now. Neither of these factors changed the purity of what she gave to us. Every ounce of what Diana gave was unconditional love in some form. Whether outright gushing or stringently direct, it touched us deeply and changed us forever.

The evening of her death I lit a candle in her honor. The candle had just been gifted to me by another close friend only a week or so before and I had yet to light or closely examine it. Just before I lit it I noticed that the label on the front read "inspire" The candle is a deep garnet color and is elegant and sturdy, much like Di. Every night since her passing it has burned in my home, and in my heart. It has reminded me that even in her absence she lives on in me, because in the 18 short months that I had the privilege to share her company as a friend, the LEAST that Diana Kornet did for me was to inspire.

I met Diana as a patient in a study she coordinated for work and we connected immediately. She asked about what I did with my life and when I told her that I was a singer/songwriter she told me that she had always wanted to pursue music but had chosen her equal passion of medicine. So she and I shared music. We joked that she was just doing this crazy side gig of medicine until the music thing took off. She came to most of my shows, and most certainly my important ones. Her home and her guitar were the scene on many occasions of me playing a new song idea for her as it's first outside ears and she would always sing harmony with me. One of my last moments with her and now forever one of my best memories was of 10 days ago she and I had gone for a walk around Mt. Tabor. When we reached the reservoir it turned into a jog as she wanted to continue to train for her climb to the top of Mt. Hood. A feat she would accomplish in a mere 48 hours. We finished our training just as some fireworks started downtown signaling the opening of rose festival. I grabbed her arm and turned us up higher on Mt. Tabor for a better view and to take advantage of our well timed excursion. As she and I watched the fireworks she asked me the question of what song I was to sing for my upcoming cousin's wedding. I said, "Oh, just some sappy Shania Twain song" to which Diana replied, "Oh, is it that 'From this moment on' song? I LOVE that song - and then immediately burst into it's chorus in full voice. I chimed in, and there we were, standing on the side of Mt. Tabor and at the top of our lungs we sang. We struggled to remember all the words but did so in perfect alto, soprano harmony as we walked our way back down the mountain through her neighborhood to her house.

There was not a moment of this woman's life that was not lived to it's fullest. Most important to her was to squeeze every possible drop of soul from each moment that time offered her and to in turn give it back 1000 fold. Her heart was big enough to house and feed the world and we all took our shelter there at some time or another and she in ours. My loss is tremendous, more so than I can even fathom as I try to use my mind to explain this furious ache in my heart. But the world's loss, the loss of the energy that this one soul put forth into it is greater still than mine. And it is in our collective grieving, our living and breathing, our feeling and speaking of Diana that we honor and represent this loss. We take community here in her today and in doing so spread her legacy farther and deeper still. Because if we have learned one thing from Diana Kornet -- and can now touch those around us with -- it is that love knows no bounds, knows no etiquette, no protocol, no walls of fear and no pretense to be anything than exactly what it is. Absolute, pure, Unconditional Love.
Nicole Campbell (nc(at)nicolecampbell.com)

I was lucky enough to spend time with Diana right up until the end. I called her the night before the climb, we had been trying to go to a Salsa Dance lesson for weeks, and I tracked one down and gave it a shot. True to her form, she immediately agreed to go, putting aside her paperwork for another time.

At the class, you got a free drink, Diana got a Long Island Iced Tea, because "If it's free, I'm going to get the biggest bang". She always did. Our instructor wasn't very good. He used Di as an example, and didn't explain things very well. When he thought he was done with the demonstration, Di pulled him back on the floor and said "Wait a minute buddy, you'll stay here until I understand it". Again, getting the biggest bang.

That night she asked me if I wanted to do the climb. She knew I always wanted to, but I was wishy-washy, using excuses you use when you are not sure if you want to do something. After about 10 minutes of Di shooting down each one of my lame excuses, I figured it would be easier to climb the mountain than to argue with her all night.

I was on the summit with her. I didn't see the fall. The last memory I have of Di is when she came up behind me and hugged me, congratulating me on summiting the mountain. Her smile went through her whole body, and as tired as I was, I couldn't help but share in her joy immediately, as it was so genuine and so direct. She was the happiest she had ever been.

That is how I will always remember Di.
Foster Nostrand ( foster(at)nostrand.com)

To the dear family of Diana Kornet:

I did not speak at the memorial, there were so many wanting to give tribute. I did not introduce myself; so many others needed to touch you. I watched you closely, saw that you were cared for, and left when the evening began to cool.

It meant much for all of us, to have you see how Diana made a difference. Being her family, it probably didn't come as a surprise but we all were grateful that you gave her West Coast life an opportunity to grieve with you and to show you our pride of attachment. We are in so many ways part of your family, Diana saw to it. Clearly, her love for life came from home.

I too, felt honored to have Diana as my friend, mostly, I wish I had been closer to her, but never did I feel less than those who were with her daily.

Thank your for your gift to us. Wisely, we treasured her, as she was our own.

A Simple and Quiet Tribute, My Friend.

Were I a botanist, I'd search,
For a plant unknown to the books,
I would then give it your name.

Had my lot been as physician,
I'd determine through dawn,
To discover a cure,
For title in your honor.

A musician?
A song would be sung.

A poet?
Fine words would be organized.
* * * *

I am none of those, but better,
As my fortune, I became your friend,
It was simpleso simple

Now, as tribute,
I will speak your name,
Softly, into the breezes.
Caress the grasses,
In the same way,
Your gaze caressed life's pleasures, and
Admire the clouds,
As they try,
Over and over,
And over and over and over,
To sculpt,
Your magnificence in their place.

donna steger

I worked with Diana at a clinic in Portland and was forever having to counsel the other employees that Di had offended.
This was difficult because most of the time she was right and the other person deserved to hear what Di said!!!
I want the family to know that I really admired their daughter and they must be so proud of the way she lived her
life. I believe that many people will vow to live their lives different because of the legacy DK left behind. I too
have children who have chosen a risky profession and I know that if anything ever happens to them, I will be
comforted knowing that they were loved and admired for the life they lived
Lovingly Another Diana

when i've got a runny nose, i will think of you, diana, and your old kleenex
routine. you taught me well: just stuff a tissue up your nose and let it
attractively hang there as you go about your business. nevermind what it
looks like, it works.

A few words about Di (or, Strong, Wise Di)

I was nineteen - She, at the end of her sophmore year of high school.

Inquisitive, wide-eyed, but young. "I want to go to Dartmouth," she said. And I knew she would, but she wasn't as confident as I.

Three years later - my senior year, her Freshman - ready to conquer the world, or at least the campus, and conquer it she did. Fiesty and dedicated, a friend to all, as she carved a larger and larger niche for herself into the Dartmouth fabric. First Glee Club and Dodecs, then later Kenya and the Dartmouth Outing Club. Gaining confidence, strength and opinions from each.

I worked with her on the 1990 Mass PIRG summer campaign. Her evironmental convictions fueled her activism for a stronger federal Clean Air Act and a Massachussetts recycling initiative. She made it to work, despite catastrophic, hysterical incidents. Once, on the way to work, her brakes went out and she literally tore through Boston suburbs - fortunately injuring neither herself nor the many screaming surrounding pedestrians.

Her ready smile was a welcome boost after a hard day of knocking on doors.

In '92, I returned to the east coast. I got to hike through New England w/ Di during her last year at Dartmouth. We shared Kendall Jackson Chardonnay on a cabin porch while laughing and reminiscing about Boston and past fun we'd had. She filled me in on her college adventures and I saw for the first time the strong woman she was - with experiences I only dreamed of, and confidence I aspired to. Her inner light shone brightly in her eyes and smile. She flashed her quick wit to strike up a friendly camraderie with anyone and everyone - regardless of authority or position, or lack thereof. She believed in and saw the best in others, and listened well - focusing those big blues intensely on the speaker, hearing and seeing things undiscovered by normal audiences.

This was the woman who summitted last Sunday. This is the friend I lost; the sister and daughter you lost. She has popped up so many times in my life - even in Portland, Oregon - and I hoped not to lose her again. I hoped to continue to see her when I could - between and around her floats, climbs and travels.

I'll not feel her energy, love and warmth directly again - But it's there for me in so many ways. Hearing good choral and acappella music; floating a peaceful river and crashing through raging rapids; hiking the woods, peaks and valleys of New England and the Northwest . . . and sipping a cool Kendall Jackson Chardonnay.

I'll look for you, my friend.


There is no longer water in the well.
I search for answers in the empty shaft.
The dusk sets in quickly, but does not quell
My grief hearing echoes of your sweet laugh.

But then through the clouds breaks moonlight so bright;
For was it not you who gave us the chance
To see that every night is always right
For a marvelous night for a moondance?

I smile to think that it's you in the moon,
That you will shine brighter than every star;
Dance in the heavens, provide them the boon
That helped us to shape into who we are.

We will continue to bask in your light
And join you in your moondance every night.

-Love from John McCormick

I should start. I hope they have a T3 line in heaven, Yayn, because I bet this is going to be one heck of a tribute. I will always love you.