Unless you knew her, you can’t imagine her vitality! From the moment in July of 1959 that she walked, beautifully, past the manhole I was digging in State Street in Syracuse, till the last day of her life, we were inextricably engaged, truly for better or worse. All my life the people I’ve been most attracted to have been those most ready for adventure, for beginning an action you hope will lead to a desired result, but may not — like asking a woman to dance; entering a challenging rapid in a river far from home; starting a family because it’s time, not because your future is clear. Mother was the purest of adventure-seekers. In our very first brief conversation, after I’d chased her down the street and caught her at a post box, I heard in her voice the rising inflection that meant she was ready for almost anything.
Read the full tribute here.