Jeff Bonné's Fight Against Parkinson's

My name is Walter Bonné, and I am running the Brooklyn Half Marathon on Sunday, April 24, 2022, in memory of my father, Jeffrey Bonné, and his nearly 10-year fight against Parkinson's Disease. Jeffrey was an incredible father to myself and Skylar Bonné and an incredible husband to my mom, Karla Bonné. He was also an avid runner, so there is no better way to raise awareness for his fight against Parkinson's. All proceeds will benefit the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinsons Research, and any donation will help make an impact. Thanks in advance for your contribution to this cause that means so much to us. While Jeffrey Bonné is physically gone, he made the world a better place, and his memory will remain with us forever.

My dad, Jeffrey Bonne, was a unique soul from the start. He grew up in the Upper West Side, the son of German-Jewish refugees with thick German accents. My dad adored his father, my namesake, Walter Bonne, who grew up in a large family of urban professionals in Nuremberg. He escaped the Nazis in the 1930s, only to be sent back to Europe to fight the Nazis in 1944. My dad constantly told us stories about how his father used his native German tongue to interrogate Nazis and gain valuable intelligence for the US military. He was a man of courage, bravery, kindness, and trauma. It was amidst this backdrop that my dad was born in 1951. 

My dad wasn’t able to speak until he was 4, and formed an early pen pal relationship with Albert Einstein, who suffered from a similar speaking issue. My father was very intelligent, he skipped two grades and was accepted to Stuyvesant High-school. He was an introvert, who loved to read, play the guitar, spoke multiple languages, and rescued dogs. Perhaps this is why he dove head first into the hippie movement, growing his hair past his shoulders, joining hippie caravans and historic rock concerts, and playing in a rock band called “the greasy hand and the potato chips.” My dad fascinated us with stories from this era, telling us how he hitch hiked across the US and Canada with no money in his pocket, getting chased out of stores in the south by southerners who didn’t like “hippie folk with long hair.” 

My dad was also very spiritual. He was a yogi before it was cool, practicing tai chi, qigong, and all sorts of eastern religions. I would always see him reading the “Tibetan book of the dead,” constantly telling us his various theories on reincarnation and meditation. In the 70s, he lost 30 pounds after joining the Macrobiotic movement, who believe that in order to achieve true balance, you must only eat miso soup and brown rice. 

My dad eventually matured, dedicating his nearly 40 year career to the city of NY, where he rose the ladder of multiple city agencies. One city agency holds a special place in all of our hearts. While working at the Housing Preservation Department, my dad met my mom, Karla. It was love at first sight, and true to my parents, their first date was the gym, where they took a Step class and went out to dinner. My parents always joked that my mom was so nervous during their first date that she barely ate, and my dad, who was a foodie, was concerned about their chemistry. He soon learned on the second date that this was not the case. But my parents would be foodies together for the remainder of their marriage, traveling throughout Europe, the US, and Canada, always searching for the best meals. In fact, my dad centered all of our vacations on food. My parents would joke that a vacation consists of “eating a delicious meal, walking it off, and finding things to do until your next meal.” 

When I look at pictures of my parents during this era, I am entranced by their experiences. They look like movie stars, driving around Joshua tree in a convertible, strolling Quebec City in 90s snow garb, and riding Vespas around the Caribbean. My parents were truly in love, they did everything together, and made each other better. Their love and dedication to each other was beautiful, and will always inspire me to be the best fiancé and husband to my best friend, Arianna. They were soulmates, and I promise to be the husband to Arianna that my dad was to my mom. 

My dad was also an incredible father. He prioritized my brother and I above all else. He was a city person through and through, having lived in the Upper West Side his whole life. Against the insistence of my mother, he refused to move to the suburbs. He eventually compromised and moved to Northeast Queens to raise a family. We all knew that his heart belonged in Manhattan, but he loved us so much that he sucked it up and endured a lifetime as a misplaced, somewhat awkward suburbanite. But he tried his hardest to be the best suburban dad he could. He coached our basketball teams, took my brother camping with the Boy Scouts, and made sure to return home every night to cook dinner. I will always remember how he included me in dinner preparations, using it as an opportunity to teach me how to cook. We would make stir fry, Chili, enchiladas, and spaghetti bolognese together, while he would tell me stories about his dad cooking for him. I promise to always be home to cook with my children, and to tell them stories about how my dad and I use to cook together. 

Just like my father, I was somewhat shy growing up. In middle school, my parents signed me up to take the yellow bus to school. For some reason, I was terrified of the bus and came home crying after the first day of 6th grade. The following day, my dad walked me to school, which was over a mile away. He continued to walk me to school every day for the next 3 years. We would buy scratch off lottery tickets on the walk, and he told me he only won when he was with me. Later on, I became obsessed with the idea of being allowed to walk places on my own, partially because I was embarrassed of my classmates knowing that I wasn’t allowed to walk places by myself. And understandably, my parents weren’t crazy about me walking the streets of queens alone. As a compromise, my dad would walk me 99% of the way to school, and let me walk the last block on my own. We agreed to never tell my mom, and I proudly told my classmates that I walked to school by myself. Dad, I promise to spend every morning with my children, and to protect them from their fears, no matter how irrational. 

Like my dad, my brother and I had unique interests. Growing up, for some unexplainable reason, I was obsessed with the mafia and organized crime. My dad immediately embraced this interest; watching every gangster movie with me, buying me every crime book, and developing his own passion for the topic. He created an “organized crime tour of New York City,” where he took me to all the famous sites of mob shootings and movie filming. We ended the day with dinner at Sparks Steakhouse where a famous mob scene occurred. That same year, he took my brother and I on a Sopranos tour of New Jersey. During this time, I also loved rap music. My dad, hated rap, preferring classic rock instead. Despite our disagreement, he embraced rap music for me. I was obsessed with the song Juicy by Notorious BIG, and I remember when I would call him at work, he would answer the phone “son, it was all a dream.” Dad, I promise to always support my Children’s interests and passions, and use them as bonding opportunities. 

My dad pushed us to be the best version of ourselves. He pushed my mom to rise in her career and have more confidence, and pushed all of us to love ourselves. He constantly praised us, telling us that we could do anything. My dad taught us that family was most important, and everything else could wait. Whenever we cooked a big meal, you could tell he was truly happy when he said “me gunza familie,” which is German for “my entire family.” 

He also gave the best advice. Perhaps because of his hippie days, or his interest in spirituality, his advice was so calming. He would tell us not to stress the little things, and remind us that there’s a bigger picture to life. He always managed to tie our problems to stories he had when he was younger. He was that person who always knew what to say at the right time. His calming advice always made me feel better, no matter how sad or stressed I was. I promise to always be there for my children, when they are stressed or sad, like my dad was for me. 

Over the last 8 years, my dad suffered greatly. As Parkinson’s took away his motor functions and cognitive ability, I slowly felt my dad being taken away from me. But no matter how much his body didn’t want to cooperate with him, he was still always my dad. When he was no longer able to walk, he suggested we rent a convertible and drive to Montauk together. I will never forget that day, driving 2 hours each way, listening to Bob Dylan and the Band, enjoying each others company. When his ability to speak declined, each word he chose simply gained more weight. Last year, I spoke to him about a fight I was having with a colleague that was really upsetting me. He looked at me and said “Son, what do you care.” Those 5 words said it all: my dad was telling me not to stress the little things, and that everything would be ok. I went to see him 2 weeks ago after he lost the ability to speak or move. When I walked into the room, he looked at me and gave me the biggest smile. I will always remember that smile, it was his way of telling me that everything will be ok. 

I am so happy my dad met my fiancé Arianna, and my brother’s girlfriend, Sibel. This summer, my dad toured our wedding venue with us so he could see where Arianna and I are getting married. One of my dad’s last public appearances was to attend our engagement party. I loved watching Arianna and dad build a relationship. They shared a special bond that made me so happy. I know dad will be looking down at us smiling on our wedding day. 

My dad will be with us everyday, watching us, free from Parkinson’s and suffering, always reminding us that everything will be ok. I will forever live with the guilt that when my dad had Parkinson’s, I blamed him. I blamed him for not being able to do the things he use to do, and for not being the dad he used to be. I am so sorry dad. Parkinson’s didn’t take you away, you were always here, and you will always be here. Whenever I feel sad, I will have you, I will have your lessons, and I will have your voice, telling me that everything will be ok. I love you dad. 

More information about The Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson's Research: The Michael J. Fox Foundation is dedicated to finding a cure for Parkinson's disease through an aggressively funded research agenda and to ensuring the development of improved therapies for those living with Parkinson's today.

We believe without fail that our goal is within reach - but we can't get there without your support. Please join the fight today.