Lynn Chapin

Lynn Chapin

August 20, 1939-December 16, 2025

Lynn Chapin, wife, mother, giver and friend, quietly passed away on December 16, 2025 in Denver, Colorado, surrounded by her family.

Lynn was born August 20, 1939, in Lander, Wyoming to Evelyn and Harry S. Harnsberger where she enjoyed a True West childhood of riding her horse down Lander’s main street on her way to school. Each summer, she and her best friend sold “porcupine eggs,” i.e., goat heads, to tourists on their way to Yellowstone. They made a killing.

When Harry was appointed as Wyoming’s Attorney General in 1950, the family moved to Cheyenne, where she quickly adapted to “big city” life, joining Cheyenne High School’s marching band and debate team, finding a perfect debate partner in future U.S. District Court Judge Alan B. Johnson.

During Lynn’s freshman year at the University of Wyoming in 1957, she met a lean, charming upperclassman, Jim Chapin. Their love for one another was instantaneous, and Jim lost no time in proposing to the beautiful Pi Phi, a strawberry blond with a Hollywood smile.

Excited to share the news of their engagement, Lynn and Jim drove from Laramie to Cheyenne to report the happy news to Evelyn and Harry, then to Casper to tell the Chapins before returning to Laramie that night, an exhilarating 400-mile roundtrip of rain, sun, sleet and snow, much of it on gravel roads through Shirley Basin.

Eager to get started with their life together, Lynn accelerated her studies and graduated in 3 years with a double major in Economics and English in 1959. The couple married on September 17, 1960, in Cheyenne, then settled in Casper where Jim was a bank examiner and then worked at Hilltop National Bank. Jim and Lynn had three kids, firstborn David Lind (named for the streets where Jim grew up) followed by Diane Lenore, then Susan Lynn.

In 1972, Jim’s banking career took the young family first to Glenwood Springs, Colorado, where Lynn was busy as both Girl and Boy Scout leader, and a lift operator at Sunlight Ski Area. In her spare time, she wrote and produced a musical for Glenwood schoolchildren before moving to Grand Junction where Lynn worked at Powderhorn Ski Area to pay for the family’s ski passes, first as a lift operator, then as an adaptive ski instructor. She was also ski mom, gate keeper, course crew and chauffeur through the state for David, Diane and Susan’s ski races.

Music defined Lynn’s life and upon moving to Grand Junction, she joined the local Piano Teacher’s Association and opened her own piano studio, teaching countless students not only to play, but to love the piano.

After nine years in Grand Junction, Lynn and Jim moved to Vail where Jim opened up a branch office of Aspen Savings & Loan. In Vail, Lynn and Jim quickly found their people, a community of skiers, hikers, lovers of the outdoors. Lynn was an early volunteer at the Betty Ford Alpine Gardens and through her volunteerism became a quasi-expert in identifying high alpine flowers. For many years, Lynn was a Vail Resorts ski instructor, developing deep friendships with clients worldwide. When she wasn’t on the snow, she continued teaching piano students in the Vail Valley, whom she nurtured and grew not into concert pianists but intelligent high performing humans who pursued careers in medicine, science, humanities and yes, music.

Lynn’s signature was her smile, her bottomless optimism and her cheery disposition. She gave every last bit of herself in service to all who came within her orbit.

In Jim, Lynn found the missing half of her soul, kindred in every way. Through their 65 years together, they climbed the highest of peaks, pedaled over countless mountain passes, forged streams, skied, and paddled the Boundary Waters, one summer sleeping more days in a tent than in a bed.

They were each other’s best friend and confidants. They shared a bond which cannot be manufactured nor replicated, their love so deeply woven into the marrow of their relationship.

Death surely will not separate them.

For David, Diane and Susan, Lynn was their fiercest advocate, champion and defender. Her protective spirit extended to her Harnsberger nieces and nephews, many of whom recount their treasured summers they spent with Lynn and Jim, filled with love, fun and games.

Lynn carried a culture of refinement and elegance to whatever she did, a nod to her storybook childhood, framed by her father’s political and judicial career, one populated by ambassadors, dignitaries and politicians.

Beauty followed her, no matter the setting. No dinner table went without fresh flowers from her garden, no condiment bottle ever found on the table. She brought tablecloths with her on backpack and ski trips deep in the back country. In the highest of elevations, there was always a floral centerpiece on a makeshift granite table for the Chapin family.

If a measure of one’s life could be distilled to the final moments, it is this:

In the remaining hours of her life, her grandchildren spoke into her and recounted sitting next to her on the piano bench, playing duets, and time spent with her on the trail; her children spoke to her, pressing their lips to her ears and whispered their gratitude, prayed for her, described how she had shaped them, encouraged them, and loved them. They thanked her for who she was, what she had given them.

Love is its own kind of legacy. This is a snapshot of a life well lived.

Somewhere, high in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, a woman climbs, her blond bob catching the rays of the sun. Her steps are steady, her yoke light. She is engulfed in fields of Columbines and every variety of wildflower. She knows them all by name.

Steps ahead of her, there is a man. That is her prince, her protector, her faithful one. Behind her are three children, blond, shades of gold to light, the oldest, a boy is nearest to her, he knows if he slips, she will be there. Two little girls follow, they hold hands, their untidy pig tails alight at their shoulders. They keep up. Charging up and down the trail is a cocker spaniel, taking seriously her job of holding firm the group.

Further behind, four more children, captured in shades of red to blond. The three boys are at play, even on this high slope they tussle, engage in high elevation hijinks. The oldest, a serene red head beauty presides, keeping them in tow. Each of them carry a piece of the woman, in a way unique to them, her legacy yet realized.

As they hike, the woman experiences a clarity of mind that had been missing for some time now. Her body and mind are now fully restored.

The woman can see the peak now. She reaches the saddle and stops. She looks back at her family and smiles - that million-dollar smile - the shade of the whitest snowcapped peak. From here, the journey is hers alone now.

She waves to them and heads up the trail.

Lynn is preceded in death by her parents, older brother Bill and Harry Jr. Harnsberger. She is survived by her treasured husband Jim Chapin, son David (Francis) Chapin, and daughters Diane (Frank) Melara, and Susan (Tim) Stubson, and grandchildren, Katie and Jake Melara, and Finn and Meade Stubson.

The family will hold a private service on January 7, 2026. In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to the Denver Rescue Mission: https://denverrescuemission.org