Leo was a Midwestern boy born to two wayward Jews from New York. We loved watching him grow up in and with this community and this land. Leo was welcomed by friends, neighbors, and strangers at the True/False Film Fest, just days after his birth. He was loved by so many kind, patient teachers, caregivers, and classmates as he grew up. He played in, helped clean up, and loved the many creeks that make up our little corner of the world; every park and forest holds a small, shimmering memory of his time there. He had a way with chickens, and lovingly raised a few generations of chicks. He cuddled them from an early age, and later they starred in some of his funny videos.
Leo had a grace jumping from hay bale to hay bale in our backyard. He took pleasure in climbing the rangy Redbud trees, stuffing his face with the spring blossoms as well as the mulberries, wild chives, and wild sorrel that grow all around. He could scramble up a scree-filled hillside, sure-footed, without hesitation. That sort of can-do physicality — plus an iconoclastic orientation — inspired a homegrown, outdoor school called Wild Folk. He attended the school for five years where he made deep friendships, learned many things, and inspired and vexed many a grownup. One of his friends and classmates wrote to us last week to tell us how she saw him: “Leo did what he loved, and wasn’t trying to follow ANYONE’s idea of what he should be doing. Even in our school where everyone was different than the norm, Leo still managed to be MORE different.”
In his last year, Leo made what seemed like a seismic jump for a feral, unschooled kid, but then again he never failed to surprise us: Leo enrolled in Columbia Independent School, a college prep academy, enjoying the intellectual rigor and hominess of a warm community of learners. It was exciting to watch him take on the challenge of school so gracefully; and with that, watch him edge towards adolescence, his body grown so lean and long, and his sense of self changing and maturing so quickly. As his parents, we were always playing catch-up.
While he could appear to be shy, when he was around the family or anyone he was comfortable with, Leo would reveal himself to be a frenetic, jubilant entertainer, contorting his face into all kinds of hilarious shapes, doing silly impressions and improv. Leo pulsed with a strong, playful life force that could escalate to fifth gear in a blink of an eye. He would often devise games and scenarios for his little sister Iko or his friends. Leo was fierce about fun. He was very much about converting ideas into actions NOW.
In the past couple of years, Leo took to baking and was always excited to make new and challenging concoctions, often letting his sister help as they joyfully took over the kitchen together. He would dutifully set aside and deliver some of his creations to his grandmother, Gaga, a few blocks away. In his last few months, he became a sort of daily caretaker for his grandmother, transporting food on his bicycle, keeping her company, helping her with the computer, and enjoying her total acceptance and devoted care.
While Leo could be crusty and argumentative, or “spirited” as some books might put it, he had a heart of gold, as careful and doting towards younger children and small creatures as he was towards his grandmother. One year, for his birthday, he requested to spend time with cats at the animal shelter, where he joyfully brushed and cuddled them.
Leo was often rebellious and irreverent about authority and hypocrisy; he was not convinced that the adults around him had things too figured out. We couldn’t say we much disagreed either, though it did make bedtime and teeth brushing and other such frivolous requests pretty hard sometimes. But this defiance was just part and parcel of Leo’s vivacious, questioning, bright, and indomitable spirit. As our neighbor aptly told us: “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who was better described as mercurial. I admired his creativity, generativity (all the stuff he produced!) and his ability to follow the bent of his interest.” Leo was always wanting to stay up a little later, work a little longer, try something new. As his grandmother said, he was “very, very, very.”
Leo was a ravenous reader and enthusiastic writer. We were lucky to live near the public library, from which we would emerge with heavy sacks of books, or where Leo would find refuge in his special cozy chair on rainy days. He gobbled up all manner of stories and was incredibly informed about world history and geography, all of which made him sometimes seem too mature for his years. Despite all the (often dark) history he read and his sometimes dim view of humanity, he still, underneath, we think he still believed in the world’s goodness and we could see his strong sense of integrity. He was intensely private and introverted, but he was committed to justice and fairness and truth in his own way.
His obsessive cartooning and radical cartography, detailed drawings of imaginary places, would take him as late into the night as we could stand to allow. Those were the hours too where he wrote incredible stories, including an unfinished fanciful sci-fi novella called “Paprika.” With his childhood best friend, he published Top News, an occasional newspaper with absurd headlines and satirical drawings. Just weeks before he died, Leo came up with an idea to sell tiny, commissioned drawings via the mail for $2 each, with the proceeds going to help the food bank. He managed to send out over 40 little drawings to people all around the country. Leo was always coming up with some idea and wanting to implement it without hesitation. Just a few weeks ago, he decided he had to make life-size mannequins out of old clothes and rolled-up newspapers. These hilarious, lumpy figures — Jamie and Jeremy — haunted our house, our car, and his grandmother’s house for several weeks. On another day, he hit upon the phrase “I love craziness” and drew it on t-shirts for himself, his 8-year-old sister Iko and his 2-year-old niece Aoife. Leo also had an attraction and ease with technology, quickly learning how to make animated films and effortlessly figuring out games and programs. As his low-tech parents, we never quite figured out how to support his dreams of being a game designer.
Leo had a sly, knowing smile, a strong sense of self and a belief that fun was just around the corner. He had a superpower of being confounding and mysterious in all the best ways. We are going to miss him fiercely. Beyond just being sad for losing someone we hold so dear (it feels like a major limb of our family's body has been torn away), we really regret that the world didn't see Leo as an older person. We were so excited to see how this incredible, stubborn, ferocious, creative, and unpredictable little person would grow up. We take solace that Leo’s last hours were in a beautiful place, having fun with his sister and best friend. He was not taken away because of human cruelty or callousness like so many others.
Leo Antsel Sturtz Malikin was born Feb. 6, 2009 in a home birth in Columbia, Missouri. He died July 3, 2020 in a drowning accident on the St. Croix River in Minnesota. He leaves behind his parents, Polina Malikin and Paul Sturtz, younger sister Iko Malikin, older brother Zola Sturtz, sister-in-law Angela Marcinik and grandmother Galina Malikin. His grandparents Vladimir Eidlin, Alexander Sturtz and Marilyn Press Sturtz preceded him in death.
The Leo Malikin Memorial Fund, housed at Central Bank of Boone County, will honor his short, brilliant life by making visible improvements in his hometown: planting long-lasting oaks to increase the city’s tree canopy and eventually building an adventure playground.
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