Ann Carroll Varnon

from a heart attack.

Ann was the biggest personality with a fierce social justice heart. She talked to all she met no matter where or

when. She was brave and adventurous traveling far from her home and also traveling far in the inward life. She

was a Quaker and an avid attendee of the People’s Jazz Society of Washington, DC, which sponsors jazz

church. Her main loves were her daughter, granddaughter, partner, and the many, many books she read often

late into the night about which she would say, “this is the best book I’ve ever read!” Her daughter would

respond on cue, “You just said that about the book you read last week, Mom.” At heart, Ann Varnon was an

enthusiast. In life, enthusiasts are in short supply. Those in her orbit felt drawn to that energy (and sometimes

lovingly had to find quiet recovery time).

Ann was born in Sandusky, Alabama. She graduated from Phillips High school in Birmingham, Alabama, and

was voted “best dressed” in her class. This will be no surprise to anyone; wherever she went, people commented

on her superlative style which included colorful scarves, eye-catching jewelry, and unique hats. After high

school, she longed to attend the University of Alabama and begged her parents to finish one year; she

eventually graduated with a degree in Education and a History minor. This was the first of several degrees as a

first-generation college student that she attained. After graduating from college, Ann was a field representative

for her sorority, Delta Zeta, which allowed her to travel across the United States for the first time. She taught

high school history before returning to the University of Alabama to get her MA in Counseling. Ann was

interested in psychology, human potential, and personal growth. She attended workshops, and even lived in

community, at Pendle Hill, the Quaker Study Center, Esalen, Zen Buddhist retreats, and regularly attended the

Friends Conference on Religion and Psychology. Every workshop and retreat was a chance to try something

new--Qigong, Macrobiotics, intentional journaling, or dream work--thereby becoming just that bit more alive.

It’s hard to imagine someone more alive than Ann, but it’s important to know that she cultivated and worked on

becoming ever more authentic and real.

In 1964, she met and married Ron Crowley; their daughter Karlyn was born soon after in Columbus, Georgia.

They moved to Germany in 1970 where Ann was a high school guidance counselor at the American high

school. When they returned, they moved to Alexandria, Virginia, and the Washington, DC, area became a

home. Eventually, Ann decided to return for her PhD in Education at Indiana University; she and Karlyn moved

to Bloomington, Indiana in 1980. From the moment Ann started school again, Karlyn would be with her

studying, reading, having pizza parties, and making friends at the University. Ann taught a variety of college

courses and published an article, “Using Journal Writing to Monitor Study Skills.” This public writing was an

early indication of her vocational calling to write both professionally, but even more importantly, creatively.

Ann felt moved to attend law school while Karlyn was in high school so every day after Karlyn got off the

school bus, they would make popcorn and do their homework together. Ann graduated from law school when

Karlyn graduated from high school in a double graduation. Notably, Ann, one of the only single mothers in law

school who was also not in her twenties, made Law Review, the highest honor in law school.

While Ann started practicing law in her forties, she did so for forty years. Ann retired just two weeks before her

death. After being the Program Director for Legal Writing at Indiana University and clerking for an Indiana

judge, she returned to Washington, DC, in 1990. Ann bought her beloved home in Cleveland Park in

Washington, DC, and began working for the Department of Justice where she remained for 30 years in

Environmental Torts and, eventually, the Office of Immigration. Many wondered why she did not retire sooner,

but working, writing, and giving oral arguments was empowering and rewarding. Her day work also balanced

her other real passion--working on a searingly honest memoir about race, place, and belonging growing up in

Sandusky, Alabama. Her hope was to have it published; her daughter will need to take up that work for it to be

out in the world.

In 1999, Ann met Jaime Federico Lobaton, who became her life partner for the last twenty plus years. They

truly enjoyed one another’s company and had many travels together with many anticipated travels to come.

Jaime and Ann watched endless detective shows with popcorn (a theme) and liked to talk about politics and

history while also watching the birds and squirrels in the backyard. Ann was always thinking and planning for

others--whether gifts for her granddaughter or experiences for the whole family. Gift giving was one of her love

languages. Her granddaughter, Ada, was a source of delight and light and a future hope that family stories

would be carried on. Ann was a wonderful storyteller, from the Southern tradition, and loved hearing them from

others. She would talk to anyone, anywhere, needing to gather their stories. She would tell the stories of others

to which her daughter would often reply, “Mom, I don’t know that person.” Ann would respond, “It doesn’t

matter; isn’t that a great story?” Sitting next to Ann at a party meant that she would pepper you with questions

and at any moment would meander far down a story telling path of her own. It was best to stock up on drinks

and snacks for the story marathon.

Betty Friedan said, “Woman is the sex who gets better with age.” Ann became ever bolder, blunt, courageous in

her speech as she got older; the early veneer of propriety and, for her, false social expectation fell away. She

increasingly felt called to “speak truth to power” remarking frequently on social justice issues which was a

marvel to those around her. More importantly, she was endlessly curious and intellectually engaged throughout

her life, always wanting to talk about what she was encountering, particularly as it related to issues of race and

structural inequality at a societal and personal level. She was a deep enthusiast for knowledge. She became ever

involved personally and politically with anti-racism work, becoming a founding member of the Langley Hill

Anti-Racism Working Group in 2012 and was a member until her death. She studied, reflected, wrote about,

and worked as an activist for diversity, equity, and inclusion till her passing. She protested in several marches

carrying provocative signs even into her eighties, wearing tennis shoes and hitting the DC streets to raise heck.

Her indefatigable spirit is an inspiration. As the saying goes, “Be the things you loved most about people who

are gone.” Ann Varnon lives on in those who loved her especially when we are courageous, bold, loving, truth telling, have a heart and passion for justice, and are just that much outrageous (she was a graduate of clown

school after all).

Ann Varnon is survived by her daughter, Karlyn Crowley (spouse, John Pennington) and granddaughter, Ada

Mae Varnon Crowley-Pennington and her life partner, Jaime Federico Lobaton.

A celebration in honor of her life will be held at the Langley Hill Friends Meeting on November 20th at 10am, both in-person and remote

(Zoom). A lunch at Ann’s home to follow at noon with her Southern favorites from Rocklands Barbeque.

Please rsvp to [email protected] if you wish to attend some, all, or want to attend virtually.

Ann’s wish was for a scholarship for students of color attending her alma mater, University of Alabama. The “Ann Carroll

Varnon Memorial Diversity Endowed Scholarship Fund” has been established. It can be accessed through this

link or go to the University of Alabama giving page www.give.ua.edu using her scholarship name.

The family would like to thank Dr. Alex Papolos, Dr. Ben Kenigsberg, the doctors, nurses, specialists, and the

Palliative Care team, including the chaplains, at MedStar Washington Hospital Center in Washington, DC, for

their extraordinary expertise and attention for Ann’s health and care.

“If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.” Virginia Woolf