Memory by Walter Ries
John and I were close friends at Carleton and remained in occasional contact when we were both living in NYC in the 70s and 80s. As John’s other friends well remember, he was a most remarkable man, with penetrating insight into people, books and music. He wrote with great sensitivity, precision and sophistication, and offered kind, warm friendship to all. He worked for many years for investment companies, but I’m sure that his heart wasn’t in this work. Early in the 70s, John was living in a basement apartment, around the corner from the Guggenheim Museum–wonderfully appropriate for such a devotee of the arts. From an early age, John suffered terrible psychological torments. It is a deep regret of mine that he and I lost touch with each other and that I wasn’t a help to him in later years. In many ways, John was exceptionally gifted. Heaven only knows what he might have achieved in a more peaceful life. I hope that he was always able to remember the admiration of those of us who were privileged to know him.