Edward Leon Sostek

Edward Leon Sostek, Carleton Professor of English and Theater Arts, passed away November 21, 2025. Teaching from 1969 to 1996, Sostek was known for having directed dozens of plays for the Carleton Players troupe. Students remember him as “a beloved director, teacher, and mentor,” a “vibrant, kind and thoughtful man,” and “one of the true Carleton greats.” He will be deeply missed.

A final Friday Happy Hour celebration of Ed’s life will be held at Severance Great Hall on the Carleton College campus in Northfield, Minnesota on Friday, May 22, 3pm – 7pm. All are welcome.  

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From his obituary:

Edward Leon “Fast Eddy” Sostek passed away peacefully, in his sleep, on November 22, 2025.

Ed was born on October 9, 1926, the second of three sons, to Augusta and David Sostek, immigrants from England and Russia respectively, and grew up in the Roxbury neighborhood of Boston where he developed recognizable characteristics that would remain consistent throughout his life. For instance, his broken nose, a feature that belied his membership in a family of prominent proboscises, which he acquired in one of many fistfights over the course of his youth, either while defending turf from young Italian ruffians or while defending his older brother Alan from bullies. His younger brother Herb was young enough that he was able to escape the hardships of what, according to Ed’s recounting, was a pretty tough upbringing. Then again, his family had a housekeeper.

Following in the footsteps of his father, who was a jeweler, Ed often found himself at his father’s jewelry shop. But that’s about as far as that went. 

Ed was promoted past not just one, but two grades in primary school, then flunked one of them and had to repeat it. As he would later describe it, he was definitely more of a “gifted” student than a “good” one. High school went a little more smoothly, and less than a year after graduating, he enlisted in the Navy on March 14, 1944, at the age of 17, to join the fight and see the world.

The Navy, recognizing Ed’s intelligence, directed him to take the Radio Technician Selection Test, which would get him into the month-long Pre-Radio Materiel School of the Electronics Training Program, “reported to be the most intense and difficult technical instruction ever given to enlisted personnel,” in which sailors were given crash courses in the most advanced communication electronics of the time–think radar with slide rules. Once again, the “gifted” Ed Sostek passed the test, but flunked the course and was instead assigned the rank of Electrician’s Mate, 3rd Class. Over the course of the next two and half years, he served on the USS Delta AR-9, an auxiliary repair ship with the motto “Can Do.” And did he ever. 

Deployed in both the Mediterranean and the Pacific Theaters, Ed helped keep the Navy running by keeping his ship running in all things electrical. At one point, he was even given a “temporary special assignment” chipping salt from the ship’s desalination tanks by hand after getting caught by an officer jitterbugging with a fellow sailor on the deck.

Spending two and a half years in The Navy convinced Ed to work on becoming a “good” student. He enrolled as an undergraduate at Tufts University, and quickly made a name for himself. That name was “Sing-Sing Sostek,” the moniker under which he ran for and won the title of Mayor of Tufts by staging a series of highly theatrical appearances and escapes as a jailbird on the lam, fully costumed in prison stripes. As Mayor, his principal achievement was to enjoy the seven dates he had won with seven different sorority members, during which he could choose to wear any one of the seven hats he had also won. He did not flunk out. In fact, he earned both a bachelor’s and a master’s degree from Tufts.

Whether his success as “Sing-Sing” was because of or led to his interest in drama was never firmly established, but at this point in his life, Ed embarked on a career in the theater that included acting, singing, building sets, tour managing, stage managing, directing, and teaching. Among many other venues, he worked for several seasons at Cleveland Play House, where he met other young artists who would end up being his lifelong friends, among them screenwriter John Bishop, Broadway music director Jack Lee, and Ed’s first wife June Squibb (yes, the Oscar nominee June Squibb), to whom he was married from May of 1953 to December of 1959.

In 1961 Ed’s brother Herb and his brother’s wife Judy, a dancer, invited Ed to have dinner at their home to meet a friend they thought might be a good match. When Ed arrived, he greeted a young babysitter at the front door and then headed to the living room to meet his dining companion. The babysitter brazenly followed him into the living room, and after a couple of awkward moments, she was introduced as his blind date. And that’s how he met the love of his life, Antoinette Hurwitz, a beautiful and talented dancer from Pittsburg, PA.

Toni and Ed adored one another from the get go. After their first encounter, Ed began courting her by making his way through New York City every day to bring her a shiny, red apple. It was a successful courtship, followed by a successful marriage on February 11, 1962. 

After a honeymoon in Europe, Ed and Toni hit the road to run the Mobil Driving Experience at the 1962 Word’s Fair in Seattle. 1964 saw them repeat the performance at the New York World’s Fair, and by 1966 they found themselves at the University of Iowa where Ed had begun his term as a doctoral student. 

Their son Brian appeared one day that September, their daughter Hilary showed up in May of 1968, and the next year, Ed was offered two different teaching positions. One was at Kenyon College in Gambier, OH (with a population of about 1,500 at the time and about 60 miles from the nearest “big city” Columbus), and the other was at Carleton College in Northfield, MN (a booming metropolis by comparison, merely 45 miles from Minneapolis and St. Paul). He wisely chose the latter, thereby preserving his marriage with Toni. 

As a teacher and a director, Ed was respected (not only because he used to show up on the first day of class wearing a silk ascot), and remembered fondly by students as a demanding and fair professor who helped his students grow, in both the classroom and the theater. Many future artists got their start under Ed’s guidance. Most of them reported that it was a good idea. 

Ed’s expectations for doing good, hard work were not just reserved for others. He enjoyed challenging himself as well: He played the most thankless racquet sport known to man–squash–or tried to run with “the horses” in the Carleton Arboretum every day at lunch. He built a boat from scratch, in his basement, and then disassembled it and rebuilt it in his back yard. He taught himself Italian in order to finish his dissertation on the Commedia dell’Arte. At the same time, he was no stranger to having fun, spending hours on the lakes fishing or around the table playing poker with a close group of faculty members, who bestowed upon him the nickname Fast Eddy, most likely not for his speed hooking bass.

As devoted as he was to all of his students and all of his friends, Ed was even more devoted to Toni. They adored one another and were adored by all who were drawn into their orbit. Whether they invited friends to join them for notoriously strong martinis every Friday after work, or threw one of those New Year’s Eve parties that were the talk of the town, or cut a rug at any event with danceable music, or worked together on theatrical productions in town, at Carleton, and even for one throwback summer in 1976 at the Pittsburgh Civic Light Opera (he stage managed, she danced), or demonstrated the kindness and caring that everyone from students to colleagues could count on for a listen and a laugh, they were a couple meant to be, until the night Toni breathed her last breath with Ed literally at her side, as he had been for the duration of her fight with lung cancer. 

Toni’s absence left some big social shoes to fill, especially for a guy who was known occasionally to find a space under the dining room table at dinner parties in order to catch a nap as Toni continued socializing for hours. Nevertheless, he rose to the occasion, volunteering at the foodshelf in Northfield; inspiring younger generations to take one more lap around the track at the Carleton Rec Center; reconnecting with distant family; bonding with a supportive group of new neighbors; and most importantly, holding tightly to great friends with whom he would continue Toni and his Friday night tradition, or frequently knock back a beer or two while watching TV, or reunite to honor Toni’s legacy at Carleton once a year. He enjoyed the consistency of spending Sunday afternoons conquering the great halls of Costco with daughter Hilary as well as the drama of watching son Brian follow in his footsteps–both theatrical and matrimonial–with dance artist wife Megan Mcclellan. And he gleefully accepted the role of Zaydie (Yiddish for grandpa) to his grandchildren Misha and Mahira (born ‘07 and ‘09). 

In May of 2024, he fell, as so many other 98-year-olds have, while speedwalking on a treadmill. Even though, at that point, his physical strength began a slow but noticeable decline, his mental acuity remained sharp as ever, and in October of 2025 he celebrated making it into his 100th year with no fewer than three birthday parties. Weeks later he was honored again, this time for his Naval service during WW2, by community, family, friends, and fellow veterans, on what would become his last Veterans Day.

Ed had spent much of 2025 living it up as a city dweller with his son’s family, enjoying all that Minneapolis had to offer–theater, restaurants, music, movies, and cruising around retail facilities wherever an electric scooter cart was charged up and waiting. He collected countless fist bumps and accolades upon returning to his workout regimen at Lifetime Fitness–this time driving a cherry red F-22 walker. Then, in late summer, he returned to Northfield under the tremendous care of St. Croix Hospice and Three Links Care Center. He quickly endeared himself to the entire staff, and his friends welcomed him back with open arms by offering him companionship and support when he needed it most.

Come mid-November, Ed’s body had grown weak to the point that a mild pneumonia presented a significant challenge. But with his wits and characteristic tenacity he hung on for another ten days until his grandson returned from college to play one final, private concert, finishing with Simon and Garfunkel’s “April Come She Will.” Hours later, as his family was gathered together in a theater to watch his granddaughter sing and dance in her high school musical, he passed peacefully in his sleep. He is dearly missed by all who loved him and laughed with him.

Ed is survived by his daughter Hilary, his son Brian, his daughter-in-law Megan, his grandkids Misha and Mahira, and his younger brother Herb.