Eulogy for Mary Jo

My dear friend Mary Jo Claugus was taken from us on October 3, 2021. I had found out only two days prior how ill she really was. She was gone too fast, too soon. What a loss – what a hole in our hearts!

I met Mary Jo 30 years ago at the brokerage firm where we both worked for decades, Gilder Gagnon Howe & Co. I was a sales assistant at that time and she the executive secretary to the firm’s founder, Richard Gilder. Her warmth and professionalism impressed all who interacted with her.

Mary Jo knew that I had studied German, and had an interest in German culture. (This interest was sparked both by my German heritage and by the research I had done for my World War II romance novel, In the Arms of the Enemy.) She and I, along with a couple of other friends, regularly attended the annual German-American Steuben Day Parade in New York City. While I would be casually attired in a Deutscher Fussball-Bund tee shirt and jeans, the always classy Mary Jo could be counted on to wear a sophisticated outfit in the tricolors of the German flag – black pants, gold top and red blazer. A coordinating silk scarf and tasteful jewelry were her usual accoutrements. Lunch at a German restaurant always followed. She and I shared German ancestry, and Mary Jo relished good times and good company, along with her schnitzel and schnapps.

Mary Jo’s keen eye for spotting items that would bring pleasure to others led to my trip several years ago to Dresden and Berlin. Her boss, Mr. Gilder, had received an invitation from the Massachusetts Historical Society to their historian-guided expedition to those two German cities. (Mr. Gilder was an enthusiastic benefactor of various cultural, historical and educational institutions.) Risking the infinitesimal chance that her boss would be interested in the tour package for himself, Mary Jo snuck me the brochure and I excitedly booked the trip. If not for her thoughtfulness, I might never have had the opportunity to enjoy such an exclusive and unforgettable vacation.

Always considerate and attuned to the passions of others, Mary Jo often bestowed “no-occasion-just-because-I-love-you” gifts on friends and family. Early on in the years-long process of trying to get my novel published, she presented me with a refrigerator magnet depicting a 1940’s-style amorous couple with the caption, “She sensed a bestseller.” Though my refrigerator is nearly covered in magnets, “bestseller” is one of my favorites, and it always reminds me of Mary Jo’s kindness and encouragement.

Mary Jo and I shared a zeal for history – among her cherished institutions were the New-York Historical Society and the Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History – and she happily indulged my obsession with Major John André (see my October 2 blog post for more about him). On one of my weekend visits to her home in Tarrytown, she took me to the Major’s major sites in the area – the monument in Tarrytown at the place of his capture, and across the Hudson River to André’s memorial in Tappan where I laid a flower for the dear Major. Mary Jo hugged me at that moment, intuiting how moved I was to pay my respects at the spot where he died. Our day together was capped off with dinner at The ‘76 House; when I stepped away from the table momentarily she secretly ordered their “Major André” cocktail for me.  On another occasion we dined at the Tarrytown House Estate, where she gleefully surprised me by pointing out André’s portrait in the lobby of the adjacent hotel. It pleased and excited her just to share this with me – that was trademark Mary Jo, finding joy in bringing joy to others.

When someone we love passes, or when we express condolences to a friend who has lost someone close, the ubiquitous human response is to offer platitudes – good words – eulogies. “He was very kind.” “Truly a warm and giving person.” “She was such a devoted sister-mother-grandmother.” “His smile lit up the room.” “She will be dearly missed.”

So when the one we have lost IS truly kind, generous, devoted, funny, warm, brilliant, extraordinary… those platitudes sound like clichés. The “good words” we always say when we’ve nothing but mere words. But for my treasured friend Mary Jo, I mean them emphatically! She was one of the kindest, most generous, most devoted, funniest, warmest, most brilliant, most extraordinary people who have touched my life.

Rest in peace, dear friend.