From Virginia Rock:
Some days have passed since I read your news, dear Ellie, of our dearest friend’s departure from the pain and consciousness of this life. You may have wondered about my silence; I have been looking inward, thinking back through the nearly half century we have known each other, finding my unreliable memory an irritant; but places and events have not entirely faded–classes and parties at Minnesota and Michigan State where we both studied and taught, sessions in American Studies national meeting, wonderful visits with you at wedding celebrations (Joel’s in Virginia), the overwhelming 50th anniversary commemoration honoring you and Gene in Fresno, your wonderful hospitality and my meeting of some of Gene’s colleagues from women’s universities where he was teaching when I visited Tokyo. My eyes blur again, then clear as I remember Gene’s astonishing vitality, his love of life and ideas, of courage and fearlessness in the face of those black years when reactionary powers slashed and threatened and destroyed lives in universities–but not Gene’s. He never let the finks rule his world and we were heartened by his war on fearful passivity. As I thought about how to embody something of my deep admiration for and indebtedness to Gene, I do what literary scholars often do–and Gene was so good at this–I turned to a text, to be more specific, to Walt Whitman, one of Gene’s lifelong subjects–There is a dream, a picture, that for years at intervals, sometimes quite long ones, but surely again, in time, has come noiselessly up before me, and I believe, fiction as it is, has enter’d into my practical life–certainly into my writings, and shaped and color’d them. It is nothing more or less than a stretch of interminable white-brown sand, hard and smooth and broad, with the ocean perpetually, grandly, rolling in upon it, with slow-measured sweep, with rustle and hiss and foam, and many a thump as of low bass drums. Gene’s life reflected this power, this grandeur, this link with nature, with its sounds, its music. As the sea-shore was for Whitman, Walt became for Gene, I have felt, “an invisible influence, a pervading gauge and tally….” One vivid picture emerges from my memory–it emboides another face of Gene–loving father, proud, protective. This goes back to the first term I was at Minnesota, some months after the beginning of the school year; it was a cold raw day; there was Gene with Joel, less than a year old, in his arms–warm in his snuggly blue snow suit and parka hood, arm thrust out toward his mother; we went up the steps of our Temporary Office Building into the hall–my first meeting with Joel as part of the Bluestein family. How blessed we all are–to have known Gene, to remember him as teacher, scholar, performer, friend. What a legacy he has left–in print, in recordings, in stories we remember his telling, in the life he led. May I be forgiven for my need to seek my ending of my thoughts, not from my flawed memory but from his heroic “good gay poet”: Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place, search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.

From Chris McGahan and Lonnie Fleisher:
We have had the wonderful presence of Frayda in our lives for over 16 years now and have spent many very special visits with Gene and Ellie here in North Carolina. Even though the total cumulative time with them has been relatively short, we have always been welcomed into their family so very warmly that they really feel like family to us. As has already been said many times in these remembrances, Gene was a fabled raconteur. One special memory that my family cherishes was our inclusion in the Bluestein/Cullen family Passover Seder this past spring. The Seder of course was led by Gene and although he had difficulty getting force behind his voice because of illness, he marched on valiantly and delivered a most amazing “presentation”. The story of Passover became alive for all present and our children were mesmerized. Oral history is a dying tradition that Gene helped keep alive through his story telling. Our oldest son Daniel always looked forward to seeing Gene because they shared interests in language, especially Yiddish. He thought Gene was an extremely special person and said so many times, wisdom from a 17 year old. Gene will live on through his family, students, colleagues and friends whom he inspired with his intelligence, scholarship, humor and courage. We will sorely miss him.

From Shirley & Dudl Bernstein:
I sang at Gene & Ellie’s wedding the song they loved so much “Fun Vanen Haybt Zikh on a Libe”. I was privileged and honored to sing the same song at their 50th Wedding Annivesary together with Joel, Evo, Jemmy & Frayda. I remember the nights in Camp Kinderland writing parodies & songs for the Kinder Tog evening. Gene’s talent was very evident. The committee consisted of Gene, Herb Gutman, Helene Masslo & myself. What a great time we had. Shirley & I will not be at the Memorial service but our love & admiration will be there. We send our best to Ellie who did so much in her own way. We send our best to Joel, Evo, Jemmy & Frayda and their families who brought so much joy Gene & Ellie and certainly an important part of his accomplishments.

From Bernice Greenberg, aka “Brownie”, aka Blackie Davidman’s kid sister:
I met Gene when I was around 10 or 11 years old, and he was my big brother’s best friend in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, New York. Two sweet Yiddishe guys who tried to look like gang members (to get the girls). I remember Gene from Camp (Kinderland) when he started to date Ellie, and we giggled and gossiped about this love affair. Over the years I would hear about the Bluesteins, and I was so happy to see them again at Aaron Davidman’s wedding. All time disappeared as we talked about the past. What an incredible legacy he has left. To think that that skinny little guy who made me laugh, who was so full of life, would not only leave a lifetime work of writing, of music, but most important, of love and of family. Genie was a blessing in the life of anyone who knew him.

From Pat Arnold:
I only met Gene a few times but I love Elly. She and her family have been an inspiration to me so I want to send my best wishes and those of my daughter, Linda Arnold, also a singer – of children’s songs. She has always loved the Bluestein Family music. May you all carry on in the tradition that was begun by Gene Bluestein – a singer of songs, a lover of life.

From Peter Everwine:
I was very sorry to hear of Gene’s death; I know this is a difficult time for all of you. One of the many qualities I respected and admired in Gene was his strong sense of family and his generosity in welcoming so many lives mine among them into its warm circle. This strength surely survives him, and I hope it brings a measure of comfort to you, even as you mourn his passing.

From Jean Ritchie and George Pickow (recieving National Heritage Award Sept. 18):
I couldn’t stop the tears when I learned that Gene was actually planning to come to Washington in September! First time I ever blubbered into a computer, and I would have laughed if I weren’t crying! You two are such incredible people- and Gene must know it certainly IS a surprise for me! As much to know it, as it would have been if he were really there! Our love, hugs & kisses are with you all, and the warm presence of both of you will, combined, be the strongest one around me on September 18th, for I haven’t forgotten that it was Gene who first nominated me for this award, all those years ago. George and I both long to be there for Gene’s memorial, but it is not to be. Have a wonderful “Bon Voyage” party, and feel our presence amongst you, too. Much love- We’re so glad we have our memories of all the grand times with you all!

From Jaime Reyna Juarez:
Class of 1986, Assistant Director of Admissions, Penn State, HarrisburgI would like to pass on my condolences to you and the rest of Dr. Bluestein’s family. I was a student of Dr. Bluestein during the early 1980’s at CSU Fresno. I remember taking him for a topic literature course on Walt Whitman and Emily Dickinson. He was a wonderful teacher, and I will never forget his readings of Whitman. I fondly remember his reading and explication of “I Celebrate Myself,” especially a passage that goes something like:Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale, nor discarded; /I see through the broadcloth and gingham, whether or no;/And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot be shaken away. Dr. Bluestein read that passage in my class over 20 years ago, and I still remember it. I remember this stanza because he read it with such joy and humor and impact, and I will always associate it with him. But it is not a wild association. I think it symbolized, in part, the kind of man that he was: a wonderful teacher and a beautiful human being. In my mind there were a handful of extraordinary people at Fresno State, while I was a student there, whose instruction and guidance will stay with me for the rest of my life. He was one of those people. I, too, mourn your loss.

From Erik Hoffman:
I’m sorry I won’t make it to Gene’s Memorial. I’m also sorry that I never got to know him. Knowing you and Jemmy and your love for music and dance, and thinking much of it must have come from a family spirit that must have been fostered by Gene makes me miss him already.

From Joci Tilsen:
I am filled with powerful memories dating back 44 years. The music in my heart came from the time I spent at Gene’s feet when I was a young child. He taught me to laugh and cry to music and the powerful ways music takes action in our lives. He taught me to be family across cultures and time and distance. I am so glad he died with dignity after all he has been through these last years and that is a tribute to his wonderful and loving and beautiful family. My love is with you all as we try to imagine and then find comfort in this changed world.

From Joy Vincent Killian:
I was at the College of Communication Graduate student orientation yesterday. I have just read your e-mail and Evo’s. As I sit at my desk at work I realize how much Gene meant in my educational life. The professor that drove the students onward and to stretch. How odd that I was going on to learn more on the day he passed away. So far away I can’t image him not there. The two of you were so much a part of the Vincent-Killian family. I recall how Elliott and I sat at his feet during our last visit and how I stressed to him how important Gene was as a person to me, as a musician and writer. That Elliott should remember this time, it was very important for him to remember.

From Larry Hanks:
It’s a very long time since I last saw him, at least twenty years I guess. I remember him in the early days at the Mill, and once in particular when he gave me some good tips on my rather homemade banjo style (flailing, not frailing). It was interesting to read about his life and work; I didn’t know a lot about him, and wish I had known him better.

From Amy Davidman:
At Gramercy Park Hotel last year I met gene & ellie for breakfast. I brought a camera, thinking that I could catch a great moment of the three of us on film. Well, a great photo did develop and we had a wonderful time together. Gene told me a story about him and Grandpa Blackie starting an imaginary club in Brooklyn called CLUB TEMPO. They made fake business cards and would hand them out to the ladies attracting them to a designated location where they could “socialize”. I don’t remember if there was more to the story, or if that’s all gene told me right then… All I know is that it was a great story and ever since then I’ve been fantasizing that my future club will have that same name. Gosh I wish I could hear that story again. And it’s a bummer that my memories aren’t so detailed…but at least I remember the love. And there’s a whole bunch more people to love and be lovin’ out there. Music is where we are, who we are, we are born in it, we are living it, we will pass in and out of it, and we will speak and lovebeyond it.

From Ann & Al Wasserman:
Words are really inadequate to describe our feelings and that is why this note is late. For how can you put on paper those things which are much better said with a hug, a kiss or a touch of the hand? Our memories of Gene (and Ellie too, for they were always inseparable) go back some 56 years to 1946 in Camp Kinderland, when we were all having our summer romances. We remember Gene as the skinniest lifeguard, who would always be seen around camp playing music on his recorder. We learned very quickly of his great sense of humor, compassion for people and passion for justice. But this was just a summer acquaintance for us. We lost track of each other once our camp days were over and we each married and started having children and working. And as it turned out, we each left New York for the “greener” pastures of the West. It wasn’t until 1964 that we heard from Nina Youkelson that Gene & Ellie were in Fresno. So one Sunday we packed our kids in the car and drove to make an unannounced visit. (Drop in visits was one of the things we missed of our New York heritage.) We received the warmest welcome and spent the weekend playingcatch-up, poring through all the memorabilia and photos which, as we recall, were housed in a great big bushel basket. It was as if no time had intervened in our friendship. In 1974 we were in Paris and were walking somewhere in the Tulleries when we literally bumped into Ellie, who was engrossed in a French language lesson book. We did a double take and found that the entire family was in Paris and that the boys were busking somewhere on the Left Bank. We walked over to watch them play and sing and Gene was the merciless heckler. In 1983 we visited with Gene & Ellie in Hiroshima for a few days. Gene had an exchange professorship and Ellie was teaching English as a second language. It was a most meaningful visit given the city and with their apartment within walking distance of Peace Park where the United States dropped the atomic bomb in 1945. Between our overseas visits we would see each other periodically either in the Bay Area or in Fresno. The Bluestein Family had their annual farewell concerts which we tried to attend but missed on occasion. The last time we saw Gene was in Glen Ellen to celebrate his 70th birthday. All of these wonderful memories crowd in as we try to express our feelings of loss and condolences to the Bluestein family. He suffered much in past number of years but through it all he was able to continue his contact with the world of writing and thought. Gene was a person who made an impact on those around him. His humor and compassion with be sorely missed by all who knew him.