Jenifer’s Journal: Serendipity

“…we are fertilized by mysterious circumstances.” — Antoine de Saint Exupery

Back in 1982, I met Karen Lomuscio before I met Richard. Our meeting took place over the head of my 8-year-old daughter. Her 8-year-old-daughter had recommended her mother’s expertise. Karen, diminutive, fresh-faced and looking barely 15 herself, made her diagnosis: Yes, it was a tick, and yes, she could remove it.

I thanked my new neighbor as we stood in the white heat of that August afternoon. Along with two kids and three cats, I’d become a full-time Island resident only weeks before, but our daughters were already fast friends. I’m not sure I ever officially “met” Richard, though I think he briefly appeared a day or two later, like a Ninja — slender, elegant, soft-spoken and, as it has always seemed me, slightly amused about something.

Those late-summer weeks, the Island ripe and glorious, the voices of children at play, the excitement at the approach of the new school year obscured the awful reality that Karen was battling cancer, and had been for months.

No wonder I didn’t see much of Richard. He was working all the time, not only as a journalist at the Reporter, but juggling side jobs — teaching, copy editing, painting cars, bartending at The Cook — while trying to pick up the inevitable slack at home, trying to be there as much as possible for his family.

He was a private man, almost mysterious, but whatever terrors may have beset him during what must have been a terrifying time, he seemed to carry on quietly, kindly, steadily.

If Richard’s passion was cars, Karen’s was, next to motherhood, the theater. She’d been an active member of the Shelter Island Players, so when they met that March to choose the next production, Karen made clear what some of us already knew, that for years she’d not only wanted to direct Tennessee Williams’s “Orpheus Descending,” but to play the central role of “Lady.” She was soft-spoken but adamant.

She “asked” us to vote “yes,” and of course we were helpless to do otherwise. I don’t know if Richard ever tried to dissuade her. What I do know is that he helped her seize not just one day but nearly 90 of them, from the end of March to the last performance on June 4, 1983.

Through all the auditions, rehearsals, line runs and run-throughs, Richard kept the “back stage” of their lives running so she could make it happen on stage. In the final scene of that last performance, Karen needed help rising from the stage, but rise she did, triumphant, to take her bow. Richard was in the front row, applauding.

Karen passed away less than two weeks later, on June 17, 1983.

I can almost see Richard shaking his head. In his instantly iconic final “Adults Only” column, “Carpe Diem,” he wrote, “I don’t think it’s too healthy to live in the past…”  Agreed. But sometimes seeds get sown in the past that keep flowering into the present and even the future, like the ones that got planted way back during those 10 months in the 1980s, quirky little blossoms of serendipity that have been popping up ever since.

For instance, an unexpected opportunity for my daughter to join Richard’s at a private school; a Shelter Island college grad randomly invited to my Christmas party meeting Richard, being hired by him to teach and, eventually, becoming Richard’s successor as headmaster at Hoosac. Just two examples, but what has really blossomed from the past is the family Richard and Karen created and, in spite of her tragic death, continues to flourish over the decades. Richard honored a sacred trust.

Even after losing their mother, their daughter, Lora, remembers that she and her brothers never felt anything but safe and secure in the strong circle of their father’s unconditional love. He honored the trust his students invested in him, as well.

His children continue to hear from his former students about how deeply Richard touched their lives. And then there’s this column. Richard always honored the contract between himself and his readers: In exchange for their kind attention, he would deliver to them, in an insightful, honest, entertaining way, interesting and useful information and ideas.  

He left us too soon, but not without leaving behind what may be another small bud of serendipity. His three children, Richie, Lora and Victor had been discussing the fate of this column, and Victor had an idea.

If Ambrose approved, might I be interested in continuing it? Maybe call it “Jenifer’s Journal?” Clearly my answer is “yes!,” with the hope that in my way I can keep delivering on that same contract and justify the faith that’s been invested in me.

Thank you Richie, Lora, Victor and Richard. And Karen.

Got an idea for a column, or just want to weigh-in with me? Email me at [email protected].