One of many things I loved about Gene was his insatiable curiosity. He seemed to have an interest in everything and everyone. And he was eager to share what he knew and learn what he didn’t. Gene was a delightful conversationalist. He always had something to add, but he was also a thoughtful listener who could ask a probing question or two that could make you look at something with fresh eyes. It wasn’t unusual at lit club for Gene to start a conversation in some rarefied realm of philosophy and end it in a mildly bawdy joke or a groaner of a pun. The last joke I can remember him telling me went like this: Descartes walks into a bar and orders a drink. He belts it down quickly. The bartender says, “Would you like another?” Descartes says, “I think not.” And disappears. Because of his wide range of interests and expertise, I once asked Gene if he considered himself a Renaissance Man. He replied, “No, my dear, I am very much a work in progress.” He truly was the epitome of a life-long learner. Which is why it’s so fitting that he had just recently taken up cello. With his penchant for bad puns, I can almost hear him explaining his new hobby: “There’s always room for Cello.” I will miss his quick wit, ready smile, and gentle spirit.