Neither one of us knew Lenny growing up. We were not colleagues at WWU. We don’t even live in Bellingham, but an hour+ away in Vancouver, B.C. Debbie Bernstein of the University of Haifa, a mutual friend, facilitated the initial connection in the mid 1980s. For the past thirty years our interactions have been quick visits, either in Bellingham or in Vancouver. By the time in 2008 that we moved (back) to Vancouver for at least half the year, all three of their kids were launched and living on their own. So for us, Lenny has meant Lenny-and-Kathryn, an interesting, engaging, smart, fun duo with whom we could exchange news and views on books, movies, politics, travels, and family, eat delicious food together (either at their home or in Vancouver restaurants) and visit museums, most commonly the UBC Museum of Anthropology (where Lenny once showed Anita the very mask that began his fascination with First Nations art).
There were other brief excursions as well: to La Conner, of all places, to eat at a Polish restaurant, to Granville Island for food purchases and gallery hopping, to Douglas Reynolds Gallery on South Granville Street (where Lenny and Kathryn were greeted as intimate friends) to Skwachays Lodge, the First Nations Hotel on Pender Street in Vancouver where every astonishing room had been decorated by a different BC artist. There was an overnight trip to Whistler to see the new Audain Museum, made more exciting by an unexpected heavy snowfall at the end. Wherever we went, Lenny and Kathryn, devoted to living well, knew the best places to eat, the most interesting places to browse or buy. (In the late 1980s, Anita benefitted in a significant way from this shopping expertise, when, during their sabbatical year in Philadelphia, Lenny arranged for the purchase of three beautiful Turkish rugs for her from Woven Legends).
Their hospitality, noted by everyone, has been of an especially enduring nature for us. They have generously served as a U.S. mail drop for us, stockpiling our packages, letters, and documents between our periodic visits.
Everyone during the wonderful Zoom memorial commented on Lenny’s enthusiasms, his infectious appetite for beauty, pleasure, and intellectual stimulation, which continued throughout his long struggle with cancer, to the very last days of his life. All of this made him a delightful and exciting companion. He had a very good life, and also important, a good death. We would be remiss if we did not observe that Lenny’s ability to experience these pleasures so fully was dependent upon on Kathryn’s tireless labor throughout their marriage, the raising of their wonderful children, and her artful care of him during his long illness. Lenny knew that he was very fortunate, and so do we. -- Anita Fellman and Ed Steinhart
Neither one of us knew Lenny growing up. We were not colleagues at WWU. We don’t even live in Bellingham, but an hour+ away in Vancouver, B.C. Debbie Bernstein of the University of Haifa, a mutual friend, facilitated the initial connection in the mid 1980s. For the past thirty years our interactions have been quick visits, either in Bellingham or in Vancouver. By the time in 2008 that we moved (back) to Vancouver for at least half the year, all three of their kids were launched and living on their own. So for us, Lenny has meant Lenny-and-Kathryn, an interesting, engaging, smart, fun duo with whom we could exchange news and views on books, movies, politics, travels, and family, eat delicious food together (either at their home or in Vancouver restaurants) and visit museums, most commonly the UBC Museum of Anthropology (where Lenny once showed Anita the very mask that began his fascination with First Nations art).
There were other brief excursions as well: to La Conner, of all places, to eat at a Polish restaurant, to Granville Island for food purchases and gallery hopping, to Douglas Reynolds Gallery on South Granville Street (where Lenny and Kathryn were greeted as intimate friends) to Skwachays Lodge, the First Nations Hotel on Pender Street in Vancouver where every astonishing room had been decorated by a different BC artist. There was an overnight trip to Whistler to see the new Audain Museum, made more exciting by an unexpected heavy snowfall at the end. Wherever we went, Lenny and Kathryn, devoted to living well, knew the best places to eat, the most interesting places to browse or buy. (In the late 1980s, Anita benefitted in a significant way from this shopping expertise, when, during their sabbatical year in Philadelphia, Lenny arranged for the purchase of three beautiful Turkish rugs for her from Woven Legends).
Their hospitality, noted by everyone, has been of an especially enduring nature for us. They have generously served as a U.S. mail drop for us, stockpiling our packages, letters, and documents between our periodic visits.
Everyone during the wonderful Zoom memorial commented on Lenny’s enthusiasms, his infectious appetite for beauty, pleasure, and intellectual stimulation, which continued throughout his long struggle with cancer, to the very last days of his life. All of this made him a delightful and exciting companion. He had a very good life, and also important, a good death. We would be remiss if we did not observe that Lenny’s ability to experience these pleasures so fully was dependent upon on Kathryn’s tireless labor throughout their marriage, the raising of their wonderful children, and her artful care of him during his long illness. Lenny knew that he was very fortunate, and so do we. -- Anita Fellman and Ed Steinhart
