Lee Myddleton Harwell, 79, passed away on June 11, 2026, surrounded by his family, after a 10-year dance with Multiple Myeloma. Most people were unaware of the burden he carried with this disease; weekly chemo, dialysis three days a week, sometimes spending 30-40 hours in medical care. Nearly 10 years ago, an accidental slip and fall revealed a bone lesion that shocked us all; it was cancer. Lee lived a healthy active life, cancer didn’t make sense. The early days after diagnosis were scary and stressful, but upon reflection, the most surprising part of such a scary diagnosis was the magic that came alongside it. Lee was adamant in his belief that he was alive because he did what his care team told him to do. Whenever he met another person dealing with health issues, he made sure to let them know to listen to the doctors. Lee knew time was precious. He meticulously prepared his end-of-life wishes and made certain all of his affairs were in order, other than writing this obituary, of course, for which he had no interest.

Lee was born on March 29, 1947, to Richard Sterling Harwell and Hazel (Kappstein) Harwell in Chicago, Illinois. He was the baby of the family, having two older brothers, R. Sterling, the eldest, followed by Todd Vines. He attended the Latin School of Chicago for elementary school and Lane Technical High School. Sterling and Todd did what their well-wishing parents had hoped – they received college degrees and pursued jobs in business and engineering. Lee was the self-proclaimed rebellious one, certainly that comes as no surprise to anyone who knew him. He left the city to attend college at the University of Wisconsin-La Crosse, later earning a Bachelor of Arts degree in Philosophy in 1969. He loved learning about the human mind and body, and he could philosophize for hours without tiring. He fell in love with the pace of La Crosse and its natural beauty, creating close friendships with lifelong buddies Jim Brickl, Steve Solberg, Jim Lewis, and Al Hulett. He loved adventuring outdoors, spelunking (with all the stylish and utilitarian suits of course), photography, martial arts, partying with his friends, and, of course, meeting ladies.

After graduating college, Lee returned to Chicago and worked for a well-paying insurance company for two years, but found it to be an excruciating waste of life and returned to La Crosse where he lived for the rest of his life.

While his dad insisted Lee make smart decisions to protect and sustain himself in the future, he rebelled, naturally. Lee realized early in life that a life worth living included love, joy, wonder, movement, thrill, trust, companionship, and generosity. These were always the common threads throughout his life, even though it might have been easier in many ways if he had listened to his dad.

Lee had an unmatched intellect and wittiness that made people adore him immediately. His seriousness and bold reactions were always a surprise that resembled Larry David’s existence in the show, “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” He was a tall, silly guy with a pony tail who could make items around him fly with a slight accidental movement. He was deeply invested in politics at all levels, and when he wasn’t doing Tai Chi, he was reading and studying heady books on complex topics and preparing philosophical arguments on topics only few wanted to talk about.

In the 1980s he met the love of his life, Jaqueline Manon, an immigrant of Germany, who he married and with whom he spent the best years of his life until her untimely death in 2004. Together they made their house a sanctuary, filled with beauty, art, vintage findings from estate sales, and of course, Jacqui’s outstanding baked goods and breads. While Lee’s other love was his German Shepherd, Gypsy, Jacqui later insisted on getting two tiny Yorkie puppies. And yes, he got her the puppies. Although throughout the last 10 years of his life he was being cared for, Lee, too, experienced being the caretaker for his wife during her last years. He became a widow at 57, and three years later, in 2008, he lost his job when his employer went out of business.

The following years were lonely and difficult for Lee. After experiencing such deep emotional hardship, he decided he had to do something, so Lee returned to his lifelong passion for martial arts. He was a dedicated and consistent student of Tai Chi and Wing Chun. He started building a community of classmates and students, which in turn became his community. Lee would host gatherings and classes at his home, transforming that space into a community space for anyone invited. He later taught Tai Chi classes for the City of La Crosse. Out of despair and pain of loss of his beloved wife, Lee built a community that gave him hope, purpose, and joy again. He recommitted to photography, spending hours capturing his art and honing his craft at the computer where he was mesmerized by creating mystical renditions of the natural world. Whatever he saw through that lens was different from what most see; it was his creative outlet. One of his most cherished artistic projects was a photo series he captured of rust and decay in a junk yard of cars with his great friend, Jim Brickl. He used that material creatively for years and it was chosen for an art exhibit at the Pump House Regional Arts Center in La Crosse.

In 2011, Lee met Mackenzie Mindel at the Root Note, a local coffee shop, when she asked him to teach Tai Chi at a retreat she was preparing. This became the most unexpected and precious relationship and the two quickly became best pals. When Mackenzie introduced Lee to an adventure-loving guy, David Mindel, the three quickly became partners in crime, forming a connection as deep as family. The three were inseparable, spending daily dinners together, and going on outdoor adventures and bike rides. One year, David and Mackenzie bought Lee a passport for his birthday and the three drove to Canada for an adventure, including getting flagged at the border for having a tall, goofy, and slightly suspicious guy in the backseat. In response to the Border Patrol agent asking what Lee did for work, he nervously said, “I, uh, I collect Social Security.” Lee nearly fainted when we were asked to come inside.

Lee was there for Mackenzie’s biggest milestones in life: college graduation, graduate school graduation, first jobs, and meeting her husband. Lee was her biggest cheerleader, and he was there when David and Mackenzie got married, and, as you can imagine, he took hundreds of photos. He was the family photographer.

Lee and his wife never had children. In fact, neither of Lee’s brothers had children either. So when Mackenzie and David had two children of their own, he found the deepest joy with, and felt the deepest love for, his two little girls, Bluma and Miriam. He was their honorary Grandpa. Lee was entranced by their daily growth and changes, always willing to get on the floor and play, read stories, and have them sit on his lap. And just as Lee’s little girls were obsessed with him, so, too, was their little pug, Farfie, who would always be Lee’s snuggly companion.

After he was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, his brother Sterling would call Mackenzie for updates and to better understand what was happening. He’d say to Mackenzie, “I’ll be damned if I’m the last Harwell standing, you make sure my little brother outlives me.”  Lee spent every day focused on his health, so he could live for all of us, his friends and family. Those 10 years were some of the hardest, but what we didn’t expect was all the joy, the gift that every moment is precious and fleeting. Lee made friends with his care team, who he loved and adored. His cancer doc, neighbor and pal, Dr. Parson’s, who we lovingly refer to as Dr. P, was pivotal in Lee’s care. He embraced his social life that medical care provided him. He’d look forward to appointments with Dr. P, Nina, Dr. Bilaji, and dozens of nurses who he knew by name. Once he had the nurses on the infusion floor doing Tai Chi. Even when he was hospitalized, Lee enjoyed himself and made the best of the situation, creating friendships among his care team. He was just an irresistible, goofy, witty, and charming guy.

This spring, Lee’s cancer levels were increasing again, as it does, so Lee decided to try another therapy instead of throwing in the towel, stating, “Hell yeah I’ll do it! Better than the alternative.” His last days were in the hospital for a planned stay for step-up dosing with the new treatment. Lee was pain-free for the first time in months. He was walking miles on the hospital floor with his signature trekking poles; going to the outdoor terrace with David, Mackenzie, and the little girls; enjoying the hospital food selections; and socializing with his care team. He genuinely felt it was a vacation. After a quick and severe illness, along with various complications, he was bedridden for a single day before he passed. We find solace knowing that he never (ever) wanted to be stuck in a bed hooked up to machines. Movement was life and if he couldn’t move, he didn’t want to be in it. In his last moment of coherence, he seemed to have tapped into knowing he was headed out of this world and calmly said, “Home. I’m Home. I’m dying. I love you. I love you all.” That night when it was medically clear that he was dying, we honored his wishes and let him go. We told him this was his ultimate Tai Chi practice. He always taught people that Tai Chi wasn’t about resisting with force against what we don’t want, it was about going with the force presented to you and redirecting the energy for something else. And that’s exactly what he did. In his stunning final dance, he took a deep breath and let it go, and he was gone.

Lee was a major fixture in our lives and for all who knew him. It will take time to learn how to live without someone so pivotal and contributing to our daily life. How can you fit such a life inside a short narrative? We can only offer a glimpse and hope anyone reading this feels a sense of the fullness and grandeur of his life. We miss him in each moment, but he always wanted us to know that when he passed, we could be happy knowing we had such a deep love and precious family.

Lee is preceded in death by his parents, Richard “Dick” and Hazel Harwell, his brothers R. Sterling Harwell and Todd Vines Harwell, and his beloved wife, Jacqueline Manon.

He is survived by his family members Mackenzie, David, Bluma (6), Miriam (3) and Farfie the Pug Mindel; and precious friends Daniel Johnson, Jim Brickl, Steve Solberg, Jim Lewis, Al Hulett, Case Hobson, Nina and Hari-Om RadhaKrishna, Andrea Beien and many more, all of whom he loved deeply.

Our deepest appreciation goes out to his care team, Dr. Parsons, Nina Conrad, PA, Dr. Balaji, and Dr. Burnet; dozens of precious, loving, and caring nurses and support staff; Lisa and Sara in Palliative Care; Abby Vans; Moka staff bringing us joy in the form of a Capuccino; Emplify by Gundersen Urgent Care and ER staff; pharmacists and financial support teams; and all the nurses responding to our daily MyChart messages. We so deeply appreciate you.

In lieu of gifts, spread kindness and generosity, move your body, listen to your doctors, and love deeply.

Lee didn’t want a funeral or anything traditional. He was a rebel, remember? He liked to party. So we invite anyone who wishes to celebrate and honor his life to join us for a party, Lee style, at the Pump House Regional Arts Center in La Crosse for his final art show, on July 11th, from noon to 4pm. There will be a light meal, coffee, desert, and a cash bar.

Thank you for everything, Lee. We will love you forever.