Saturday, October 9, 2021
John was a good big brother to me. We were very close. Naturally we were roommates growing up in Yonkers and the Bronx, because we lived in small apartments, and our family had 2 boys and a girl. There were many times in our youth when he got me out of trouble, and on further reflection I realize that I have called upon his wisdom and advice throughout my life, and I am now 67. We shared an apartment in Jersey City for 2 or 3 years. I’ve been trying to remember how I was convinced that was a good idea, because we were both in our 30s. It was a big 2 bedroom that neither of us of could have afforded on our own, and we shared a nice car too. And we got along fine – we both liked skiing and golfing, and although he never set foot in the laundry room, or put a used tea bag in the trash, he did cook. And John’s last job was with me, for 6 years, at Inter Parfums. We needed somebody with very good data processing skills, and his were excellent.
He was, without a doubt, one of the smartest people I have ever known, but not one of the most practical. He is a graduate of Wagner College in Staten Island, which is a fine school, but it was not his first choice. When John was a senior at Manhattan Prep, his SAT scores were so high that he decided to apply only to MIT and Cal Tech. But John did not get accepted by either; his grades were not good. He disdained some of his Christian Brother teachers, so in those classes he would sit and openly read works and authors that were banned by the Catholic Church, thereby garnering some knowledge that may be very useful, but not so much for his Spanish test.
When we had our apartment together, I came home from work one day and the place had been ransacked. The TV and stereo were gone, and all of John’s dresser drawers were pulled out and his clothes were strewn all over his bedroom. John was sitting at the dining room table, filling page upon page of a notebook with numbers, symbols, and Greek letters. I said “John, we’ve been robbed!”, and he jumped up from his chair and said “What!!”
John loved politics and history, and he had an amazing memory for facts and dates. He could name all the American Presidents (and Vice Presidents!) in order, with their years in office, without stopping. You could ask him who was the Chief Justice during the Polk administration, and he would know.
He loved music and singing, especially with the St. John’s of Larchmont church choir. He was very proud of his fine, deep voice. I remember our mother telling me that he had it even as an infant.
John loved the English language, words, and puzzles. He was very exacting about usage and clarity of expression, and he told me that got him in trouble a few times on the job. I can say that more than once when we worked together, he would come into my office, and say something like, “There’s an email going around saying that on rainy days we should throw our wet things in the hallway”. And I’d say, “No it doesn’t – it says please put your wet umbrella in a bin they have set up in the hall closet.” Then he’d sit down and parse out all the misused words, dangling participles, and double negatives, and I’d have to admit that I could see all that, but that nobody else would read it the way he did. And he’d say, “but that’s what it says!”
Which brings me to one last story. I have said that John loved politics, and the English language, and he liked to quote an essay by George Orwell. The essay is called “Politics and the English language”. Here is a verse from Ecclesiastes that Orwell gives as an example of clear and concise English:
I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.
When our father died, John wanted to read this at the funeral, but when he got to the lectern, there was a different passage from Ecclesiastes marked out for him, which we all know, because it was set to music by Pete Seeger, and we have a great recording by the Byrds.
John had a troubled relationship with his father, but believed him to be smart, brash, handsome, and athletic. But he also had his faults and some misfortune. This might apply to John too.
John was proud of his family, especially his son Nicholas. It is very hard to think we will not see him again, in this life.
May he rest in peace.
Bruce Campbell
