Jonathan Philbin Bowman was born in Dublin on January 6th, 1969. He first attended Sunnyside play group where one morning, on hearing his teacher thank God for a fine day, he patiently explained to her that it had nothing to do with God and everything to do with cloud formations.
He subsequently attended Sandford Parish School and Sandford Park School in Ranelagh.
A conscious pacifist from an early age, his first byline appeared at the age of seven in a letter to The Irish Times: "Sir, last year I went to Switzer's to see Santa and he said `what do you want in your parcel?' I said anything but a gun. When I got home I discovered it was a sword. This year I went to Lee's to see Santa. He asked me what I would like in my parcel. `Not a gun or a sword' I said. When I went home I discovered I had a bag of toy soldiers. Next year I am going to try and find a good Santa."
To the understandable concern of his parents, he chose not to complete his formal education and left his final school, Newpark Comprehensive, in Blackrock, Co Dublin at the age of 16. Aided by a word processor that finally enabled his fingers to keep up with his fierce speed of thought, he immediately embarked on what became, due both to his youth and precocious intellect, a very public career in journalism and broadcasting.
His first professional credit was as photographer for Image magazine. In the early 1990s he wrote for In Dublin, the Sunday Tribune and the Sunday Times.
He joined Carr Communications in September 1992 to work as a communications trainer where, thanks to his particular affinity with high technology, (it could barely keep up with him) he was especially effective in training groups of electronic engineers to clarify and simplify their presentations.
Extraordinarily articulate, and a gifted mimic, with the ability to speak spontaneously without deviation, hesitation or repetition, he appeared to have found his natural medium when for two years (1993-1994) he co-presented The Rude Awakening on FM104.
Using a variety of personae he entertained the country with prankster phone-calls live on air to such august bodies as Hibernian Insurance and the IDA regarding the demise of uninsured goldfish and a scheme to make fuel from the excess potato crop. In what must be unique in the annals of broadcasting, he also charmed the then serving Taoiseach, Mr Reynolds, into reviewing a Whitney Houston concert at the Point.
Impatient and mischievous, his was not an easy talent to manage. A former colleague recalls trying to persuade the station to renew his contract: "I told them they were off their heads to let him go but they couldn't see it."
In the autumn of 1994 he joined the Sunday Independent on contract. Appreciated and encouraged, he found a home there. In September 1998 he began a weekly log that suited his talent for life admirably. He never missed a deadline.
He treated those within his orbit sans fear or favour, treading blithely on all sorts of powerful toes regardless of the consequences to his own advancement. He thrived on constant intellectual stimulation and many of those he interviewed in depth became firm friends.
The editor of the American Spectator remembers him as "daring and principled - an unusual combination in a journalist."
Unusual too in that his intellect never seemed to threaten his compassion. At the age of 20 he fathered a son and took on the role of single parent with great gusto and good humour.
Friends, old or new, humble or exalted, found in him an inexhaustible well of empathy and laughter. He was energetic, high-spirited and enthusiastic about everything except sport, in which he had no interest whatsoever.
For an individual to live with such intensity places untold demands on the psyche. It too needs replenishing from time to time in order to achieve a balanced if perhaps a slightly duller life. Jonathan Philbin Bowman's interest in Buddhism was more than a passing flirtation. His soul was growing apace and asking for the time to do it. Sadly it was not to be but he added immeasurably during his short life to the society in which we live and for that we must be grateful.
The password to access his hi-tech powerbook was "Love" and it is with love he will always be remembered by everyone who knew him.
Jonathan Philbin Bowman is survived by his son Saul; his father and mother, John and Eimer; brothers, Abie and Daniel; sister, Emma; grandmother, Eva and Saul's mother, CaraIosa.
Jonathan Philbin Bowman: born 1969; died March, 2000