- Stephen Record on Class Notes, Mar-Apr 2025: “Aside to Stew Palmer: All those years down the hall from you in Hawthorne, I don’t believe I knew we were classmates. Congratulations on all counts, especially retirement. -Steve R.” March 17, 2026
- on William John Stanisich, December 29, 2025: “I didn’t know Bill at college, but got to know him through the essay I wrote (co-wrote, to be exact) for our 50th reunion class book (the link is above). Bill was a warm and thoughtful guy. My wife and I went to one of his shows, and later I stayed with Bill and Jim over a weekend in San Francisco. They were super-hospitable. Bill took me out for a walk. Zooming along the sidewalk in his motorized wheelchair, he explained some of the architecture of the city to me. I had hoped to visit him one more time a few months ago, but he wasn’t up to it.” March 17, 2026
- on William John Stanisich, December 29, 2025: “If many of you don’t remember ever having seen Bill on the Yale campus, it may be because he spent so much time in New York, watching operas at the Met, waiting in line for standing-room tickets for those operas or shuttling back and forth on that decrepit old New Haven RR. I met Bill in our freshman year and was swept away by his joyous enthusiasms (in a setting where so many freshmen seemed prematurely afflicted with world-weariness and wariness.) Bill and I shared apartments two summers in New York, and then went our separate ways after graduation. In those days before email, Facebook, and cheap long distance rates, it was easy to lose track. We reconnected about ten years ago, when I visited Bill and his husband, Jim, in their beautiful home in San Francisco. (His passion for that city was as boundless as it was for opera.) Despite debilitating pain from a back injury and an ever-spiraling assortment of other health issues, he maintained an outlook as zesty and infectious as it was when we were both 18. In addition to Jim, Bill leaves behind a dazzling array of visionary watercolors and inspiring memories of a life well-lived for all who knew him.” March 10, 2026
- on William Byron Evans, October 13, 2025: “Bill, Louie Papp and I were the three students from the Utica area who matriculated to Yale in 1965. Bill introduced himself to me as such at our 50th, and I subsequently visited his his gallery in Jay, New York later that year, when I bought a cold Adirondack winter landscape. I wrote bill in 2024 that I had missed seeing him at our 55th, and wanted him to know how much I was enjoying the painting. He replied with a photo of a recent painting. The guy had talent.” March 9, 2026
- on Richard Stuart Lannamann, January 6, 2026: “It was my honor to propose Rick for membership on the Guild of Carillonneurs advisory board—and what a pleasure when he gracefully accepted. He brought intelligence, wisdom, and wit to our little group. As he did everywhere. Here is a picture of a recent visit to Harkness tower where I met with Rick. I had just played the bells, and Rick and I had played a duet on the practice clavier as well. ” January 29, 2026
- on Richard Stuart Lannamann, January 6, 2026: “As an Alley Cat (class of ’69), I knew Rick Lannamann well during the bright college years. But we kept in fairly close touch in the many years after that because of the type of person he exemplified. He was without a doubt the single most “goodness filled” individual anyone could encounter. He brimmed with integrity, overflowed with generosity, and oozed the milk of human kindness from every pore. He was very easy to like and, for Kate, easy to love. That essence of Rick we now miss dearly.” January 19, 2026
- on Richard Stuart Lannamann, January 6, 2026: “I vividly recall how Rick and I used to sit cheek by jowl on the carillon bench playing “Bright College Years” and “The Whiffenpoof Song,” the latter with the sorrowful phrase, “gone and now forgotten with the rest,” which I recall Rick, sitting on the bass side of the bench, used to play slowly and mournfully on the lower bells.” January 19, 2026
- on When I brought Maharishi to Yale: “Namaste David. Nice to hear from you and I look forward to connecting on Zoom. Thanks so much for reaching out to the group. Michael Folz and I attended Maharishi’s talk in Woolsey on Nov. 28, 1966. I will email you an entry from my scant journal of the time wherein I reference seeing him speak. I’ll also include the Yale Daily News report of his visit (if you have not seen it). I was deep in the middle of Professor Norvin Hein’s terrific course on modern saints of India (Sri Ramakrishna; Ramana Maharshi; Rabindranath Tagore and Mahatma Gandhi) – so of course wanted the opportunity to see a holy man from India. I did not connect with TM but instead with Sant Kirpal Singh in 1968 – and continue those daily practices some 57 years later. All best – Kent Bicknell ’69 (later ’70) P.S. I have that issue of Look magazine – and it is fun to identify various friends on the cover!” September 7, 2025
- on Judge Myron H. Thompson – A Lifetime of Distinguished Service: “Congratulations! Much deserved! –Alan Smith” September 1, 2025
- on Gregory Gorelik, August 4, 2014: “I just read in the alumni magazine that GREG GORELIK died in 2014 in a single car crash in San Diego. I remember him well. We were in Ezra Stiles together. I periodically tried to find him but never could. We were good friends at Yale even though as a somewhat naive middle class suburban Orange County boy still in the closet I was always a little intimidated by him. He was arrogant but also brilliant. And exotic, from a wealthy Jewish trading family in Guayaquil, Ecuador. I remember that John Eddy (another Orange County boy who took his own life after completing medical school) and I would occasionally stay in Greg’s brownstone in Greenwich Village where we were served meals by Ecuadoran servants. I also remember that the Goreliks hosted a graduation party (for Stiles seniors maybe) at their manse somewhere in Connecticut. My parents came to that. I stayed in touch with Greg when he moved to Los Angeles after Yale. He wrote plays and had a girlfriend named Rachel Kurn. He lived in a lovely apartment in a high rise beaux arts building on Crescent Heights Blvd near Sunset in West Hollywood. Then I went to Greece for several months before settling in Florence for 3 years with a boyfriend Umberto. When I returned from Italy in 1973 I didn’t resume my friendship with Greg. I don’t remember why not. Maybe he had moved away. Maybe I just didn’t want to now that I was worldly and very out. I remember trying to call him but his number was no good. Now I regret not trying harder to find him. He wasn’t in our 50th reunion book or listed in any alumni data. He was so brilliant but also brittle because of his arrogance. Did he succeed as a playwright? Did he work in the family business? Did he marry? Have children? Maybe one of you knows more about him. Now I’m saddened to hear of his passing. Another life that drifted out of my awareness and is now ended. (Since writing this I have read Richard Henrich’s and Jon Mills’s comments—both of whom I remember from Stiles, and Jon from the Unrestricted naughty boy Cassandras, and Jeff from Bill Stanisich recently—but no one has added anything about his life. I remain intensely curious.)” July 15, 2025