In Loving Memory of Timothy Green

January 15, 1978 — February 15, 2024

Timothy wasn’t just a remarkable educator and community servant — he was a man whose life was fully aligned with his calling. From his earliest days volunteering with youth to his deep embrace of Montessori philosophy, Tim showed up with love, patience, and an unwavering belief in the potential of every child.

He understood what so many miss: that teaching isn’t just a job — it’s love in motion. He saw young hearts first, then minds. He partnered with families, championed collaboration, and lived as though every soul was worth investing in.

Tim was also a poet — a writer with a tender gaze on mystery, life, and the human experience. He wrote from his heart, and that heart carried strength and faith in equal measure.

I had the honor of reading his work at Flava Coffee House — a moment I carry with gratitude. I remember the steadiness of his words, the gentle sincerity of his voice, and the way he made space for others to feel seen.

Tim’s legacy reaches far beyond classrooms and cities. His influence stretched from Connecticut to Colorado, Louisiana to Florida, and here in Washington. But more importantly, it lives in the lives he touched, the parents he empowered, the children he believed in, and the friends who will carry his memory forward.

Timothy loved deeply — his children, his mother, his work, and the beauty of human potential. It is with both sadness and gratitude that we remember him: a giant in character, gentle in spirit, and steadfast in faith.

May he rest in peace. May his writing continue to inspire. And may we — the ones who loved him — carry forward his legacy of care, conviction, and courage.

A Personal Tribute to Timothy G. Green

In the early days of my life as Lady Flava, when social media was just beginning to find its footing and creativity felt raw and personal, I crossed paths with a man named Timothy G. Green. At the time, I was becoming known as a reviewer of African American literature, and books were how worlds collided. That’s how Tim and I connected—through words, through truth, through stories that mattered.

Tim’s first poetry book, As A Child My Eyes Heard It First, remains one of those reads that stays with you. It wasn’t just poetry—it was memory, family, childhood, faith, and reflection wrapped together with honesty. His words carried tenderness and depth, the kind that lets you know the writer has lived, listened, and loved deeply. One day I’ll find that photo I have of myself sitting in Flava Coffee House reading it for review and when I do, it will sit right here—where it belongs.

Though miles separated us—Tim in Connecticut and me in Washington’s State—we were connected across time zones and seasons of life. We talked occasionally on the phone, but more often through messages, first on MySpace (that’s how far back we go), and later on Facebook. It was a different era then—when social media felt more like conversation than performance, and community was built slowly, sincerely.

What I didn’t know then—what I only learned Today —was that in his final chapter, Tim was also in Washington State, just about four hours from me. Life has a way of holding those quiet ironies. Paths so close, yet never crossing again.

Tim was a Christian man, and his ministry was clear—not loud, not showy—but lived. His heart was for children, for guiding, supporting, and serving them in meaningful ways. He embodied kindness. He was steady, thoughtful, and gentle in a world that often isn’t.

I was saddened to learn that Tim had passed—and even more so that I found out two years later. I feel a touch of guilt for losing touch, but I hold far more gratitude for the warmth of the memories we shared. Some connections don’t fade because they end; they last because they were real.

I am grateful to one of our shared literary friends for reaching out and letting me know. And I am especially thankful to Lost Sohl, also named Timothy, for contacting me. We both learned the truth late—but love and remembrance are never late.

Timothy G. Green was a great man. A writer. A poet. A kind soul.

He is truly missed and will never be forgotten by Lost Sohl and me.

With love and remembrance,

Lady Flava 🌻