I would like to thank everyone who has joined us today. It is really moving to see how many people who have come from far and wide to help celebrate Adam’s Life. I would also like to thank those who are watching on zoom, and then those who might watch the recording.

Thank you, Rick, for hosting us here at WinterHawk for Adam’s memorial. This is the perfect location for us to join together to honor Adam’s memory and celebrate his life. When we discussed having it here, Rick mentioned he was 95% done with the tasting room. I thought 95% done was very on Brand for Adam. With us being less than 3 miles from his shop, which was his favorite place in the world to be, this feels right. Adam often would stop by here on the way home from a day at the shop and considered Rick one his dearest friends. In my opinion, Dos Equis has a backup for the “Most interesting Man in the world” in Rick. He is a remarkable guy. He cut ever board, laid every stone and finished every detail of this... Read more beautiful building and property. And this is only a couple of the 100 interesting things he is really good at. A really, really amazing guy.

There are so many people I would like to thank and recognize who have been so important in Adam’s life and especially those who have been there to support him through his health challenges. If I forget anyone, please forgive me. There were so many people who cared about and cared for Adam.

First, I want to recognize the amazing care Adam has received these past 5+ years. His incredible Doctors, Residents, PA’s, nurses’ health aids, drivers. The level of care and compassion he received was remarkable. Each time he was hospitalized and I couldn’t make it to RI, Adam’s Dr’s would call me each evening to give me an update on how he was doing, and next steps to get him well.
I also want to deeply thank the RI local crew who have really been there for Adam as well as those in NY and Cape Cod.

To Frank who has been caring for Boo these past 4 years every time Adam was hospitalized. He would sit with Boo for hours keeping her company, spoiling her with treats, sending me photos of them and just being and amazing friend to Adam. I only learned last year that he very allergic to cats and would have probably had to take a Benadryl after a visit. To John who was always there to take Adam to Dr appointment when the van didn’t show, run an errand or bring Adam his things to Kent. To Rachel who recently became a friend, welcomed Adam to her Family Thanksgiving with a +1 (Boo) this past year, and quickly stood up and adopted Boo to her home. To the many others at the Lofts at Anthony Mill who gave a hand, a push down the hallway when Adam was in his wheelchair.

Then there is the Kingston Crew. To Bill Smith who first became his landlord for the shop but then pivoted to a caring and supportive friend. It turns out his lease started 14 years ago on Adam’s Birthday. During the early years every one of Bill’s kids worked for Adam on projects, and then in the later years his youngest, Nate stepped up to help us manage the downsizing of the shop. An incredibly hardworking and impressive young man. To the TLC coffee clutch that Adam spent countless Saturdays chatting about life. To his neighbors at the shop, Benny and the Shore Shop crew and the others who would stop by to say hello. A really amazing community.

I want to deeply thank Chris Sancomb. Who by a chance meeting, He and Adam connected, realizing they had so much in common. They began a 14-year journey of friendship and partnership on projects. Chris is going to speak, so I am going to let him share some of those stories and the incredible things he is doing to honor Adam’s legacy.

It really was a community, and Adam was very lucky to have you. Being 4 hours away, I was so very lucky and knowing that so many people were close by who cared about him and were ready to help.

As many of you know, Adam passed away peacefully in his sleep at his home after a long battle with complications from his diabetes. After getting out of the hospital days before, it gives me comfort to know he was home with Boo in final days. He had just ended his longest streak of 8 months not being hospitalized. He had the opportunity to get to the Cape twice during that time. Enjoying a potluck dinner party at the Truro house that so many of his good friends from the Cape were able to attend. I have been told he was just radiating with happiness that evening. In retrospect, it was a final tour to his “special place”. I am so grateful to those who helped make that happen. Howard, Laurel, Gary, Heather and others.

I am going to do my best to highlight Adam’s life. It being so full, it is going to be hard.

Adam was born on February 17, 1959 in Brooklyn NY to Jesse Levinson (1988) and Jaqueline Gelernter Levinson (2009). The family lived in a one-bedroom apartment in Park Slope until moving to Upper Montclair, NJ when Adam was 6. He lived on a street reminiscent of a Norman Rockwell painting, playing on the block until the street lights came on and with backyard volleyball games attended by the entire neighborhood. Adam still was close with so many of his lifelong Montclair friends and few of them are here today.

Adam did his best to project his annoyance of me as his pesky younger brother. He did a pretty good job, but quietly he was always there for me. From driving me to Westchester to attend a sweet 16 party before I could legally drive, to allowing me to hang out with some his Senior friends in Bill Marchiony’s basement to watch the first episode of SNL. To gifting me a duplicate of his license when I was 16 so I could buy booze, and then a complete set of janitor keys for MHS when he graduated. Yes, he was the person I called when my keg party in the Montclair house turned into 50 underage drinkers. He told me to call the police on my own party and I did. They broke it up and sent everyone home.

Adam found his passion for architecture and building things at the age of 15 when he was offered by my parents as an indentured worker to the builder of our first Cape Cod home. He spent summers working for that same builder and then took a gap year after high school to live on the Cape and build homes full-time.

Adam entered Pratt Institute as an architecture major and then shifted to Industrial design. Beginning his next chapter of building lifelong friendships. It has been beautiful to watch how so many people he has known for 40+ years were still so important in his life. Anna, Laurel, and Elaine going to speak to his days at MHS & Pratt.

His first job after Pratt was as a draftsperson. He then decided he would rather build things than draw them and moved to R. H. Guest. Under Bob and Gloria Guest’s mentorship, Adam became an expert in museum fabrication. Adam would later move to Showman Fabricators and lead their work with museums. He built a reputation for the quality of his work and his unique ability to problem solve. If a designer could dream it, he could build it. His talent was also helping designers make changes so something could be built.

Adam worked with most of the major museums in NYC. The projects he was most proud of were his work with American Museum of Natural History building the Rain Forest Exhibit in the Hall of Biodiversity, assembling the Living Butterfly Vivarium, their first Mobile Museum and his work in the Hayden Planetarium. He helped build and install the Art of the Motorcycle at the Guggenheim, as well many other important projects at many museums. Adam would often include a piece of his friends’ artwork in a sculpture pedestal he was building so that they could boast that they have a piece of their art hanging in the Met. His NYC Marathon Brunch became the event not to miss. Philicia and I were able to join the NYC crew for a “almost Marathon Brunch” two weeks after his passing. It was special to be surrounded by so many of those important friends. Howard, one Adam’s dearest friends from NYC is going to speak as well.

Adam’s next chapter started when he moved to Wellfleet with his now ex-wife Janet. They opened the Stone Lion Inn and Adam focused on his own work of Truro Designs in his shop in Eastham. Adam became a beloved and welcoming Innkeeper. Some of my sons Michael’s favorite memories of Adam was riding on top of the Firetruck he was driving in the Wellfleet 4th of July Parade. Adam refusing to shave his beard, he had the best job in the Wellfleet Crew. He got to drive the Firetruck, but didn’t have to go into burning buildings. He became a well-respected EMT.

It is important to recognize one his most loyal Wellfleet friends, Jade. They were always there for each other. Jade first with her wonderful Oyster Shaped chocolates, that become Adam’s go to holiday gift. Many of you probably received them. I remember Adam proudly taking us to her shop to show off her work. Yes, Adam built the cases for the shop. It was one of Adam’s lifelong wonderful qualities. He would do anything and everything for a friend. But most importantly, she was always there to speak to him 24/7. During her late-night shifts as police dispatcher, I understand they could talk for hours. Jade was the last to speak to Adam the night of march 2nd. And that was fitting.

There so many people that Adam valued their friendship during and after his time on the Cape. Carla and Steve, Moe & Yvonne, Todd and Miggs from Moby’s, the owners of Van Rensselaer’s. He was proud of building Mac’s signs for his first Fish Market. Being Adam’s brother on the Cape was like having a VIP pass. He was so loved that it was shown to us. Being whisked off the hour-long line at Moby’s and being ushered to a table, then being handed a beer by Todd at the BYOB restaurant. To his fellow firefighters and EMT’s, and the other members of the Wellfleet chamber of Commerce. Adam become beloved to the Cape Cod community during his time there. Every summer, everyone looked forward to an Adam Levinson Bonfire when my Family would come to the Cape. We would surround by a wonderful and interesting group of people. Carla is going to speak to his days on the Cape We are planning on having a bonfire in his memory this July.

He later moved Truro Designs to Rhode Island and started his next chapter with his then partner Lee and her loving daughters Erika (sadly deceased) and Elana. He forged new friendships with another amazing group of people. The early years in RI were filled with travel and new adventures. I believe he broke 3 bones in his first year of dating Lee trying to keep up with her. Trying to surf, tobogganing in Vermont, and then Ziplining in the Costa Rica. He traveled and had more new adventures in 5 years, then he did in the previous 45.

Of all of Adam’s many accomplishments, perhaps his greatest legacy is the many friends that are living with his beautiful furniture. Sleeping in the bed he built them, laughing at the dining table he made, sharing moments in the kitchen he helped build and so many more projects. We have placed photos around the room of some of his favorite pieces. I hope to collect photos of other pieces people might have and publish them into a book for his friends. If you haven’t posted a picture on the ever-loved site, please do. He was also proud of his continued work with Museums working with the Provincetown Museum, RSID, Discovery Museum (MA) and his exhibits for the John F. Kennedy Museum in Hyannis MA. His final large project was a Children’s Discovery Center in Victoria TX.

These past 5 difficult years he was showered with love and support from every stage of his life. So many people paid back his lifetime of love and friendship. That is a legacy. Read less

I would like to thank everyone who has joined us today. It is really moving to see how many people who have come from far and wide to help celebrate Adam’s Life. I would also like to thank those who are watching on zoom, and then those who might watch the recording.

Thank you, Rick, for hosting us here at WinterHawk for Adam’s memorial. This is the perfect location for us to join together to honor Adam’s memory and celebrate his life. When we discussed having it here, Rick mentioned he... Read more was 95% done with the tasting room. I thought 95% done was very on Brand for Adam. With us being less than 3 miles from his shop, which was his favorite place in the world to be, this feels right. Adam often would stop by here on the way home from a day at the shop and considered Rick one his dearest friends. In my opinion, Dos Equis has a backup for the “Most interesting Man in the world” in Rick. He is a remarkable guy. He cut ever board, laid every stone and finished every detail of this beautiful building and property. And this is only a couple of the 100 interesting things he is really good at. A really, really amazing guy.

There are so many people I would like to thank and recognize who have been so important in Adam’s life and especially those who have been there to support him through his health challenges. If I forget anyone, please forgive me. There were so many people who cared about and cared for Adam.

First, I want to recognize the amazing care Adam has received these past 5+ years. His incredible Doctors, Residents, PA’s, nurses’ health aids, drivers. The level of care and compassion he received was remarkable. Each time he was hospitalized and I couldn’t make it to RI, Adam’s Dr’s would call me each evening to give me an update on how he was doing, and next steps to get him well.
I also want to deeply thank the RI local crew who have really been there for Adam as well as those in NY and Cape Cod.

To Frank who has been caring for Boo these past 4 years every time Adam was hospitalized. He would sit with Boo for hours keeping her company, spoiling her with treats, sending me photos of them and just being and amazing friend to Adam. I only learned last year that he very allergic to cats and would have probably had to take a Benadryl after a visit. To John who was always there to take Adam to Dr appointment when the van didn’t show, run an errand or bring Adam his things to Kent. To Rachel who recently became a friend, welcomed Adam to her Family Thanksgiving with a +1 (Boo) this past year, and quickly stood up and adopted Boo to her home. To the many others at the Lofts at Anthony Mill who gave a hand, a push down the hallway when Adam was in his wheelchair.

Then there is the Kingston Crew. To Bill Smith who first became his landlord for the shop but then pivoted to a caring and supportive friend. It turns out his lease started 14 years ago on Adam’s Birthday. During the early years every one of Bill’s kids worked for Adam on projects, and then in the later years his youngest, Nate stepped up to help us manage the downsizing of the shop. An incredibly hardworking and impressive young man. To the TLC coffee clutch that Adam spent countless Saturdays chatting about life. To his neighbors at the shop, Benny and the Shore Shop crew and the others who would stop by to say hello. A really amazing community.

I want to deeply thank Chris Sancomb. Who by a chance meeting, He and Adam connected, realizing they had so much in common. They began a 14-year journey of friendship and partnership on projects. Chris is going to speak, so I am going to let him share some of those stories and the incredible things he is doing to honor Adam’s legacy.

It really was a community, and Adam was very lucky to have you. Being 4 hours away, I was so very lucky and knowing that so many people were close by who cared about him and were ready to help.

As many of you know, Adam passed away peacefully in his sleep at his home after a long battle with complications from his diabetes. After getting out of the hospital days before, it gives me comfort to know he was home with Boo in final days. He had just ended his longest streak of 8 months not being hospitalized. He had the opportunity to get to the Cape twice during that time. Enjoying a potluck dinner party at the Truro house that so many of his good friends from the Cape were able to attend. I have been told he was just radiating with happiness that evening. In retrospect, it was a final tour to his “special place”. I am so grateful to those who helped make that happen. Howard, Laurel, Gary, Heather and others.

I am going to do my best to highlight Adam’s life. It being so full, it is going to be hard.

Adam was born on February 17, 1959 in Brooklyn NY to Jesse Levinson (1988) and Jaqueline Gelernter Levinson (2009). The family lived in a one-bedroom apartment in Park Slope until moving to Upper Montclair, NJ when Adam was 6. He lived on a street reminiscent of a Norman Rockwell painting, playing on the block until the street lights came on and with backyard volleyball games attended by the entire neighborhood. Adam still was close with so many of his lifelong Montclair friends and few of them are here today.

Adam did his best to project his annoyance of me as his pesky younger brother. He did a pretty good job, but quietly he was always there for me. From driving me to Westchester to attend a sweet 16 party before I could legally drive, to allowing me to hang out with some his Senior friends in Bill Marchiony’s basement to watch the first episode of SNL. To gifting me a duplicate of his license when I was 16 so I could buy booze, and then a complete set of janitor keys for MHS when he graduated. Yes, he was the person I called when my keg party in the Montclair house turned into 50 underage drinkers. He told me to call the police on my own party and I did. They broke it up and sent everyone home.

Adam found his passion for architecture and building things at the age of 15 when he was offered by my parents as an indentured worker to the builder of our first Cape Cod home. He spent summers working for that same builder and then took a gap year after high school to live on the Cape and build homes full-time.

Adam entered Pratt Institute as an architecture major and then shifted to Industrial design. Beginning his next chapter of building lifelong friendships. It has been beautiful to watch how so many people he has known for 40+ years were still so important in his life. Anna, Laurel, and Elaine going to speak to his days at MHS & Pratt.

His first job after Pratt was as a draftsperson. He then decided he would rather build things than draw them and moved to R. H. Guest. Under Bob and Gloria Guest’s mentorship, Adam became an expert in museum fabrication. Adam would later move to Showman Fabricators and lead their work with museums. He built a reputation for the quality of his work and his unique ability to problem solve. If a designer could dream it, he could build it. His talent was also helping designers make changes so something could be built.

Adam worked with most of the major museums in NYC. The projects he was most proud of were his work with American Museum of Natural History building the Rain Forest Exhibit in the Hall of Biodiversity, assembling the Living Butterfly Vivarium, their first Mobile Museum and his work in the Hayden Planetarium. He helped build and install the Art of the Motorcycle at the Guggenheim, as well many other important projects at many museums. Adam would often include a piece of his friends’ artwork in a sculpture pedestal he was building so that they could boast that they have a piece of their art hanging in the Met. His NYC Marathon Brunch became the event not to miss. Philicia and I were able to join the NYC crew for a “almost Marathon Brunch” two weeks after his passing. It was special to be surrounded by so many of those important friends. Howard, one Adam’s dearest friends from NYC is going to speak as well.

Adam’s next chapter started when he moved to Wellfleet with his now ex-wife Janet. They opened the Stone Lion Inn and Adam focused on his own work of Truro Designs in his shop in Eastham. Adam became a beloved and welcoming Innkeeper. Some of my sons Michael’s favorite memories of Adam was riding on top of the Firetruck he was driving in the Wellfleet 4th of July Parade. Adam refusing to shave his beard, he had the best job in the Wellfleet Crew. He got to drive the Firetruck, but didn’t have to go into burning buildings. He became a well-respected EMT.

It is important to recognize one his most loyal Wellfleet friends, Jade. They were always there for each other. Jade first with her wonderful Oyster Shaped chocolates, that become Adam’s go to holiday gift. Many of you probably received them. I remember Adam proudly taking us to her shop to show off her work. Yes, Adam built the cases for the shop. It was one of Adam’s lifelong wonderful qualities. He would do anything and everything for a friend. But most importantly, she was always there to speak to him 24/7. During her late-night shifts as police dispatcher, I understand they could talk for hours. Jade was the last to speak to Adam the night of march 2nd. And that was fitting.

There so many people that Adam valued their friendship during and after his time on the Cape. Carla and Steve, Moe & Yvonne, Todd and Miggs from Moby’s, the owners of Van Rensselaer’s. He was proud of building Mac’s signs for his first Fish Market. Being Adam’s brother on the Cape was like having a VIP pass. He was so loved that it was shown to us. Being whisked off the hour-long line at Moby’s and being ushered to a table, then being handed a beer by Todd at the BYOB restaurant. To his fellow firefighters and EMT’s, and the other members of the Wellfleet chamber of Commerce. Adam become beloved to the Cape Cod community during his time there. Every summer, everyone looked forward to an Adam Levinson Bonfire when my Family would come to the Cape. We would surround by a wonderful and interesting group of people. Carla is going to speak to his days on the Cape We are planning on having a bonfire in his memory this July.

He later moved Truro Designs to Rhode Island and started his next chapter with his then partner Lee and her loving daughters Erika (sadly deceased) and Elana. He forged new friendships with another amazing group of people. The early years in RI were filled with travel and new adventures. I believe he broke 3 bones in his first year of dating Lee trying to keep up with her. Trying to surf, tobogganing in Vermont, and then Ziplining in the Costa Rica. He traveled and had more new adventures in 5 years, then he did in the previous 45.

Of all of Adam’s many accomplishments, perhaps his greatest legacy is the many friends that are living with his beautiful furniture. Sleeping in the bed he built them, laughing at the dining table he made, sharing moments in the kitchen he helped build and so many more projects. We have placed photos around the room of some of his favorite pieces. I hope to collect photos of other pieces people might have and publish them into a book for his friends. If you haven’t posted a picture on the ever-loved site, please do. He was also proud of his continued work with Museums working with the Provincetown Museum, RSID, Discovery Museum (MA) and his exhibits for the John F. Kennedy Museum in Hyannis MA. His final large project was a Children’s Discovery Center in Victoria TX.

These past 5 difficult years he was showered with love and support from every stage of his life. So many people paid back his lifetime of love and friendship. That is a legacy. Read less

Hello and good morning! I’m Anna DiVito. It’s bittersweet to be here to honor and
celebrate the life of our dear, Adam.
Adam and I first met when we were freshmen in HS in Montclair, NJ, and ended up
attending Pratt Institute together.
In high school, as a group of friends, we were young, crazy, creative geniuses in so
many ways. So brilliant and eclectic back then, that I could barely keep up. And at the
same time, we were incredible goofy and naive, trying hard to become grownups. It was
kismet that we were all together in that space and time. Over the years, we all went on
to build exceptional lives.
It is amazing that our solar system of friends is still involved in each other’s lives and
that portions of this universe overlaps because of Adam. If you were to draw a Venn
diagram, Adam would be in the middle, a gentle giant and a wizard.
Teenagers together, we spent a lot of time in each others homes loafing around
watching TV, talking, playing games and music, and collaborating... Read more on elaborate class
history projects. Some of us were in band and the school of performing arts pooling our
many skills.
We spent many Saturday nights at What’s Your Beef in Cedar Grove not only because
of the new 18 year old drinking age, but mainly because they had a huge barrel of free
cheese and crackers. Those of you who know, know. We attended great parties that
sometimes spilled out onto lawns and into streets—our own kind of 70s rave of the
nerds.
One summer, Adam and Bill Marchiony were taking an electronics course at Furnas
Electric, and along with our friend Roger Peterson, devised a way to bypass the key
ignition in Bill’s mother’s VW with wires and an electric push button starter sourced from
Radio Shack. Not such a big deal today, but then, it was remarkable.
In our senior year, our inner group decided to boycott the prom and went to a Chinese
restaurant instead. A rogues gallery of teenagers dressed up, trying to get the
chopsticks to cooperate. I recall Adam sitting across the table from me smiling like a
Buddha. I don’t remember a single bit of conversation, but can still feel the haze of the
moment and how much we all enjoyed being there together. It was a sweet idyllic
moment.
About 10 years ago, most of our group was at the all-70s-reunion, sitting together,
outdoors in the amphitheater where we had hung out so many years before. Adam was
there with us, like old times. I found some photos of us on that day and will post them to
Adam’s memorial site when I’m back home.
And just like that, Adam, my homeslice, my connection to all I had left behind, turned up
at Pratt at the beginning of my sophomore year! And so it was business as usual. My
friends became his friends, and his, mine. And we were an amazing crew of friends. We
were even part of the Pratt Nutmeg Club that had only one member from Connecticut.
How it came about was a mystery.
Adam had arrived with his high school Blau Mobile, a land yacht—maybe a Ford or
Chevelle—that could comfortably seat 10, parked in the dorm lot, road-trip ready. Adam
was always up for a trip to the 24 hour pizza place on west 3rd in the Village along with
a drive through the Bowery where I’d pass out cigarettes to avoid getting the windshield
washed with a dirty rag.
We’d drive to concerts at MSG with tickets from Adam’s dad’s friend, Vin Scelsa, a
broadcaster at WNEW radio. We once even sat across the piano from Billy Joel. Adam
had a generosity of spirit. He was outwardly looking and expanded my world view. He
was always a good sport. And god only knows how I tested his patience back then.
Adam and I always called each other HUN. With a ‘u’. It began with a story my
roommate told which is best left in the vault, but it stuck. Whenever we saw each other,
it was always, HUN! It was shorthand for everything—for history, for humor, for heart.
After Pratt, we lived nearby each other in Brooklyn.
When I was looking for work, Adam said, Hun, come to Greenpoint to the shop. We
could use you. At the time Adam worked at RH Guest designing museum displays. So,
excited to have work, I showed up, and by the second week, I had inadvertently
damaged a panel, due to ship, to the tune of something like $4000.
I had no idea I’d screwed up like that. But Adam, in the kindest way, broke it to me
gently: they’d started calling me the $4000 woman, and that it would be best if I looked
for a new gig. We laughed about it for a long time. Adam continued his outstanding
career designing displays, and I found a home in children’s publishing.
Adam had a fine eye, and intuitive aesthetic. He was a complex genius and his artistry
and master craftsman skills were on another level. He was at a time in his creative life
that was pure fire. Throughout his life, Adam was so modest about it all. I don’t believe
that he was very aware of his gift.
Adam was a champion of his friends and their talents. And in his life, Adam was a
champion in his own right. Wherever he found himself in life, there he was in all his
brilliance, fully immersed in the community with profound love for his friends.
We visited him a few times in Wellfleet and Truro and I could see how much he loved
being on the Cape, that he was truly home there—at the inn, as an EMT, and especially
in his wood shop.
I know that everyday that he was separated from his shop was difficult for him. He was
never resigned to his illness. We spoke and kept up with each other on the phone every
couple of weeks.
When life became very serious, and before his last hospitalization, he was still ever
optimistic about healing. About becoming well enough to be able to wear his prosthetic
leg, to get his mobility back. Sadly, that wasn’t to be.
I can only talk to my experiences with this incredible, force of a man. Everyone here
carries their special memories of Adam deep as they go, on the inside.
His spirit is the spark and light that will shine on us as we walk back into our lives after
this celebration, today, and as life comes up at us over the horizon.
In my mind I’ll always hear him shout, HUN!
I loved and admired him deeply. Rest in paradise, my dear Adam, always my HUN. Read less

Hello and good morning! I’m Anna DiVito. It’s bittersweet to be here to honor and
celebrate the life of our dear, Adam.
Adam and I first met when we were freshmen in HS in Montclair, NJ, and ended up
attending Pratt Institute together.
In high school, as a group of friends, we were young, crazy, creative geniuses in so
many ways. So brilliant and eclectic back then, that I could barely keep up. And at the
same time, we were incredible goofy and naive, trying hard to become grownups. It was... Read more
kismet that we were all together in that space and time. Over the years, we all went on
to build exceptional lives.
It is amazing that our solar system of friends is still involved in each other’s lives and
that portions of this universe overlaps because of Adam. If you were to draw a Venn
diagram, Adam would be in the middle, a gentle giant and a wizard.
Teenagers together, we spent a lot of time in each others homes loafing around
watching TV, talking, playing games and music, and collaborating on elaborate class
history projects. Some of us were in band and the school of performing arts pooling our
many skills.
We spent many Saturday nights at What’s Your Beef in Cedar Grove not only because
of the new 18 year old drinking age, but mainly because they had a huge barrel of free
cheese and crackers. Those of you who know, know. We attended great parties that
sometimes spilled out onto lawns and into streets—our own kind of 70s rave of the
nerds.
One summer, Adam and Bill Marchiony were taking an electronics course at Furnas
Electric, and along with our friend Roger Peterson, devised a way to bypass the key
ignition in Bill’s mother’s VW with wires and an electric push button starter sourced from
Radio Shack. Not such a big deal today, but then, it was remarkable.
In our senior year, our inner group decided to boycott the prom and went to a Chinese
restaurant instead. A rogues gallery of teenagers dressed up, trying to get the
chopsticks to cooperate. I recall Adam sitting across the table from me smiling like a
Buddha. I don’t remember a single bit of conversation, but can still feel the haze of the
moment and how much we all enjoyed being there together. It was a sweet idyllic
moment.
About 10 years ago, most of our group was at the all-70s-reunion, sitting together,
outdoors in the amphitheater where we had hung out so many years before. Adam was
there with us, like old times. I found some photos of us on that day and will post them to
Adam’s memorial site when I’m back home.
And just like that, Adam, my homeslice, my connection to all I had left behind, turned up
at Pratt at the beginning of my sophomore year! And so it was business as usual. My
friends became his friends, and his, mine. And we were an amazing crew of friends. We
were even part of the Pratt Nutmeg Club that had only one member from Connecticut.
How it came about was a mystery.
Adam had arrived with his high school Blau Mobile, a land yacht—maybe a Ford or
Chevelle—that could comfortably seat 10, parked in the dorm lot, road-trip ready. Adam
was always up for a trip to the 24 hour pizza place on west 3rd in the Village along with
a drive through the Bowery where I’d pass out cigarettes to avoid getting the windshield
washed with a dirty rag.
We’d drive to concerts at MSG with tickets from Adam’s dad’s friend, Vin Scelsa, a
broadcaster at WNEW radio. We once even sat across the piano from Billy Joel. Adam
had a generosity of spirit. He was outwardly looking and expanded my world view. He
was always a good sport. And god only knows how I tested his patience back then.
Adam and I always called each other HUN. With a ‘u’. It began with a story my
roommate told which is best left in the vault, but it stuck. Whenever we saw each other,
it was always, HUN! It was shorthand for everything—for history, for humor, for heart.
After Pratt, we lived nearby each other in Brooklyn.
When I was looking for work, Adam said, Hun, come to Greenpoint to the shop. We
could use you. At the time Adam worked at RH Guest designing museum displays. So,
excited to have work, I showed up, and by the second week, I had inadvertently
damaged a panel, due to ship, to the tune of something like $4000.
I had no idea I’d screwed up like that. But Adam, in the kindest way, broke it to me
gently: they’d started calling me the $4000 woman, and that it would be best if I looked
for a new gig. We laughed about it for a long time. Adam continued his outstanding
career designing displays, and I found a home in children’s publishing.
Adam had a fine eye, and intuitive aesthetic. He was a complex genius and his artistry
and master craftsman skills were on another level. He was at a time in his creative life
that was pure fire. Throughout his life, Adam was so modest about it all. I don’t believe
that he was very aware of his gift.
Adam was a champion of his friends and their talents. And in his life, Adam was a
champion in his own right. Wherever he found himself in life, there he was in all his
brilliance, fully immersed in the community with profound love for his friends.
We visited him a few times in Wellfleet and Truro and I could see how much he loved
being on the Cape, that he was truly home there—at the inn, as an EMT, and especially
in his wood shop.
I know that everyday that he was separated from his shop was difficult for him. He was
never resigned to his illness. We spoke and kept up with each other on the phone every
couple of weeks.
When life became very serious, and before his last hospitalization, he was still ever
optimistic about healing. About becoming well enough to be able to wear his prosthetic
leg, to get his mobility back. Sadly, that wasn’t to be.
I can only talk to my experiences with this incredible, force of a man. Everyone here
carries their special memories of Adam deep as they go, on the inside.
His spirit is the spark and light that will shine on us as we walk back into our lives after
this celebration, today, and as life comes up at us over the horizon.
In my mind I’ll always hear him shout, HUN!
I loved and admired him deeply. Rest in paradise, my dear Adam, always my HUN. Read less

I would like to first share a note from one of his oldest friends from his days at Pratt - Eileen McNinnie , she writes:
"Thoughts about Adam"
For me, there isn't one big thing, it's all the little things…..that made up this gentle, lovable, big bear of a friend.
Most telling, we met in 1978, few people can say they've stayed friends for 47 years, not Facebook friends, but "spend two hours on the phone friends", "come visit like no time has passed friends".

In college, we were in Student Government together, he ran Tuesday movie nights in Memorial Hall, caught me making out with one of the B-52 guys after the Halloween party (which he didn't let me forget for 47 years), showed me how beautiful Cape Cod was in summer. He was my go-to guy if a 2AM visit to Junior's for cheesecake was required. I brought him home to southern NJ, he decided we got along because both of our Moms were artistic and a bit free-spirited - something we laughed about even on our last phone call.

... Read moreI suspect he may have been the master mind behind filling my car up with balloons and putting it up on cement blocks in the Pratt parking lot, but I never could prove it.
At the very least he was the "look-out" from his dorm window. He thought it a little too funny. (He did help me get it down though)
Our recent conversations never started with hello or pleasantries…it was "are you still living in the middle of no-where Virginia or have you come to your senses?"

I loved the way he would "pet his mustache or beard", that meant the wheels in his head were turning and you never knew what to except next, usually a great laugh.
I will miss, you my friend. Watch over all of us and keep us laughing.
- Eileen
Eileen was one of a little group who all went to Pratt that Adam dubbed his “ Bevy of Blondes” – along with myself, Heather, Roxanne, and a couple of others ( ..although David recently informed me that he had a penchant for redheads …)
When David asked if I would say something about his Pratt years at this gathering and I thought “Absolutely” I met Adam in 1980 when I came to Pratt and became part of a circle of friends that has lasted a lifetime
As I thought about what to say – it got harder, how do you sum up a lifetime friendship in a few minutes? – I thought of the late night trips from campus to Juniors for cheesecake, the hibachi fires on his dorm room terrace, going to Grossinger’s for a student convention and watching Adams mortified reaction when some of us tried to order cheeseburgers ( Grossinger’s was kosher back then and doesn’t even exist now) or the time we all were at the feast of San Gennaro and he brought us over a plate of zeppole’s covered in powdered sugar and wearing one of his signature dark blue tee shirts – I’ll never forget his face when and I took a deep breath and blew across the plate causing a snowstorm of powered sugar rained down on him (– He was such a good sport, but never he let me forget that one, and never sought ‘revenge’ ) or sitting on the campus lawn to watch “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes” – one movie that he had ordered that I never let him forget –
I think of the trips to his families’ home in Montclair for those wonderful Pot Luck Dinners – a beautiful house filled with art and a loving family – Adam comes from very creative parents – how could he not have become a gifted craftsman and leave the world with such beautiful furniture as part of his legacy….He came from really good stock.
I can go on with my own stories and experiences which grew on for 45 years – but I will keep it short

We all have personal memories and experiences, but I will always think about Adam’s spirit and his “old soul.”
-We may not always remember all the circumstances or stories or specific words that he said, but we will always remember the way he made us feel
- For me, he made me feel “Safe” and truly cared for… this big bear of a man with a soft-spoken manner and a hug that no one else could match … maybe that was another reason why he had so many female friends around - he was one of those rare guys who knew how to listen, just listen.,– when sometimes just his presence was enough.

I went into the police academy a couple of years after college and had to cut off my hair – short- very short – Adam came over and I was sitting in the dark crying- and he wrapped those big arms around me and stroked what hair was left on my head for a while – then he stood back , cocked his head to one side and said “ Ya know hun, it’s really not bad – it grows back – and what I see hasn’t changed at all” His absolute non-judgmental Love got me through many occasions. – Adam always had your back for those times – He would sit back and ponder the moment while twisting his beard, waiting for the right words to say … if words needed to be said.
- They say that “Friends are the family that we choose for ourselves” I, like everyone here, am grateful for having been blessed with his friendship. … He always felt like “Family”
David, you once said to me “Adam is my only brother, I love him” - I can tell you that mutual love has enlarged your family

I miss you Adam - my brother, my loving friend and I will miss you forever – I am so sad but so grateful for your friendship in my life
I will try to remember the simple words of Dr. Seuss :
“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” Read less

I would like to first share a note from one of his oldest friends from his days at Pratt - Eileen McNinnie , she writes:
"Thoughts about Adam"
For me, there isn't one big thing, it's all the little things…..that made up this gentle, lovable, big bear of a friend.
Most telling, we met in 1978, few people can say they've stayed friends for 47 years, not Facebook friends, but "spend two hours on the phone friends", "come visit like no time has passed friends".

In college, we were in Student... Read more Government together, he ran Tuesday movie nights in Memorial Hall, caught me making out with one of the B-52 guys after the Halloween party (which he didn't let me forget for 47 years), showed me how beautiful Cape Cod was in summer. He was my go-to guy if a 2AM visit to Junior's for cheesecake was required. I brought him home to southern NJ, he decided we got along because both of our Moms were artistic and a bit free-spirited - something we laughed about even on our last phone call.

I suspect he may have been the master mind behind filling my car up with balloons and putting it up on cement blocks in the Pratt parking lot, but I never could prove it.
At the very least he was the "look-out" from his dorm window. He thought it a little too funny. (He did help me get it down though)
Our recent conversations never started with hello or pleasantries…it was "are you still living in the middle of no-where Virginia or have you come to your senses?"

I loved the way he would "pet his mustache or beard", that meant the wheels in his head were turning and you never knew what to except next, usually a great laugh.
I will miss, you my friend. Watch over all of us and keep us laughing.
- Eileen
Eileen was one of a little group who all went to Pratt that Adam dubbed his “ Bevy of Blondes” – along with myself, Heather, Roxanne, and a couple of others ( ..although David recently informed me that he had a penchant for redheads …)
When David asked if I would say something about his Pratt years at this gathering and I thought “Absolutely” I met Adam in 1980 when I came to Pratt and became part of a circle of friends that has lasted a lifetime
As I thought about what to say – it got harder, how do you sum up a lifetime friendship in a few minutes? – I thought of the late night trips from campus to Juniors for cheesecake, the hibachi fires on his dorm room terrace, going to Grossinger’s for a student convention and watching Adams mortified reaction when some of us tried to order cheeseburgers ( Grossinger’s was kosher back then and doesn’t even exist now) or the time we all were at the feast of San Gennaro and he brought us over a plate of zeppole’s covered in powdered sugar and wearing one of his signature dark blue tee shirts – I’ll never forget his face when and I took a deep breath and blew across the plate causing a snowstorm of powered sugar rained down on him (– He was such a good sport, but never he let me forget that one, and never sought ‘revenge’ ) or sitting on the campus lawn to watch “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes” – one movie that he had ordered that I never let him forget –
I think of the trips to his families’ home in Montclair for those wonderful Pot Luck Dinners – a beautiful house filled with art and a loving family – Adam comes from very creative parents – how could he not have become a gifted craftsman and leave the world with such beautiful furniture as part of his legacy….He came from really good stock.
I can go on with my own stories and experiences which grew on for 45 years – but I will keep it short

We all have personal memories and experiences, but I will always think about Adam’s spirit and his “old soul.”
-We may not always remember all the circumstances or stories or specific words that he said, but we will always remember the way he made us feel
- For me, he made me feel “Safe” and truly cared for… this big bear of a man with a soft-spoken manner and a hug that no one else could match … maybe that was another reason why he had so many female friends around - he was one of those rare guys who knew how to listen, just listen.,– when sometimes just his presence was enough.

I went into the police academy a couple of years after college and had to cut off my hair – short- very short – Adam came over and I was sitting in the dark crying- and he wrapped those big arms around me and stroked what hair was left on my head for a while – then he stood back , cocked his head to one side and said “ Ya know hun, it’s really not bad – it grows back – and what I see hasn’t changed at all” His absolute non-judgmental Love got me through many occasions. – Adam always had your back for those times – He would sit back and ponder the moment while twisting his beard, waiting for the right words to say … if words needed to be said.
- They say that “Friends are the family that we choose for ourselves” I, like everyone here, am grateful for having been blessed with his friendship. … He always felt like “Family”
David, you once said to me “Adam is my only brother, I love him” - I can tell you that mutual love has enlarged your family

I miss you Adam - my brother, my loving friend and I will miss you forever – I am so sad but so grateful for your friendship in my life
I will try to remember the simple words of Dr. Seuss :
“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” Read less

I first met Adam on the Cape, well over twenty years ago. Like so many of his friends, I have no idea when or where we met. Adam had such a gift for nearly instant intimacy that many of us can’t remember first meeting him. I think we felt as if we’d known him forever, as if he’d always been there and, always would be. Adam was instant family. Friendship with him had that kind of permanence, timeliness, stretching all the way back and, it always seemed, facts notwithstanding, all the way forward.

Those of you who worked with Adam in the Fire Department, on the Chamber of Commerce, or in other settings, might want to speak to his incredible detail-consciousness, a focus so clearly at the heart of his phenomenal woodworking artistry and also the way he told, and responded to, stories: an attention to detail that could produce the most beautiful s’more sticks anyone has ever seen, or that could drive collaborators mad.

I want to talk about Adam’s generosity and what it did for our... Read more communities on Cape Cod. I don’t have to tell anyone here that generosity was Adam’s calling card. He was always, always ready to help someone move, offer them a loan, build them something bespoke, listen to their day, sympathize with their troubles, lend them a house, offer his advice. And Adam’s generosity created ever-widening social circles. As my parents aged in Eastham, and I was often unable to get to them, either from Los Angeles or sometimes even from Boston, Adam was always checking in with me to see if they needed anything – could they get out in the snow? Did their cars start? Did they lose power in the storm? Were they OK? Should he stop over there?

That generosity made me feel safe and cared for, but it did more than that. It made me feel part of a meaningful social world. Adam modeled civitas: “shared responsibility, a common purpose, a sense of community.” He embodied the kind of social care – and curiosity about others -- that people imagine might be part of small-town life, that people long for and move to small towns to find. No wonder that everyone wanted to work with him on committees, be at his gatherings, enjoy his phenomenal bonfires.

The expression “a good man” is totally overused. Maybe it’s lost most of its meaning. But Adam was “a good man” in the deepest sense. He was incapable of turning aside from others, incapable of disrespecting others’ needs, incapable of mocking or belittling their experiences. He was generous to a fault, sometimes to his own detriment or disadvantage. I think he keenly understood that and accepted the trade-off.

Adam was not a saint. I don’t have to tell any of you how stubborn Adam was. If you knew him well, then you knew what a pain in the ass he could be when he fixed on a way of doing things – he was truly the immovable object. He hated being cared for – and he gave poor David hell at times.

Adam’s doggedness was integral to his goodness and all part of what made him the reliable, dependable, totally trustworthy rock that he was, for so many of us. He couldn’t have been as good as he was if wasn’t also as stubborn.

I hope Adam had some inkling of how loved he was, how he glued his communities together. He would have squiggled away from hearing it – you all know just how he’d have changed the subject if he was being praised – but I hope that he knew. I never knew anyone as constituted for connection as Adam, anyone who so openly and transparently just wanted to be loved.

For the last twenty years I think I spoke to Adam every single week, much more often after he became ill. I am constantly reaching for my cell phone to tell him something funny or upsetting, or that I think he’ll appreciate. I suspect that most of you here are doing the same thing.

Carla Read less

I first met Adam on the Cape, well over twenty years ago. Like so many of his friends, I have no idea when or where we met. Adam had such a gift for nearly instant intimacy that many of us can’t remember first meeting him. I think we felt as if we’d known him forever, as if he’d always been there and, always would be. Adam was instant family. Friendship with him had that kind of permanence, timeliness, stretching all the way back and, it always seemed, facts notwithstanding, all the way forward.... Read more

Those of you who worked with Adam in the Fire Department, on the Chamber of Commerce, or in other settings, might want to speak to his incredible detail-consciousness, a focus so clearly at the heart of his phenomenal woodworking artistry and also the way he told, and responded to, stories: an attention to detail that could produce the most beautiful s’more sticks anyone has ever seen, or that could drive collaborators mad.

I want to talk about Adam’s generosity and what it did for our communities on Cape Cod. I don’t have to tell anyone here that generosity was Adam’s calling card. He was always, always ready to help someone move, offer them a loan, build them something bespoke, listen to their day, sympathize with their troubles, lend them a house, offer his advice. And Adam’s generosity created ever-widening social circles. As my parents aged in Eastham, and I was often unable to get to them, either from Los Angeles or sometimes even from Boston, Adam was always checking in with me to see if they needed anything – could they get out in the snow? Did their cars start? Did they lose power in the storm? Were they OK? Should he stop over there?

That generosity made me feel safe and cared for, but it did more than that. It made me feel part of a meaningful social world. Adam modeled civitas: “shared responsibility, a common purpose, a sense of community.” He embodied the kind of social care – and curiosity about others -- that people imagine might be part of small-town life, that people long for and move to small towns to find. No wonder that everyone wanted to work with him on committees, be at his gatherings, enjoy his phenomenal bonfires.

The expression “a good man” is totally overused. Maybe it’s lost most of its meaning. But Adam was “a good man” in the deepest sense. He was incapable of turning aside from others, incapable of disrespecting others’ needs, incapable of mocking or belittling their experiences. He was generous to a fault, sometimes to his own detriment or disadvantage. I think he keenly understood that and accepted the trade-off.

Adam was not a saint. I don’t have to tell any of you how stubborn Adam was. If you knew him well, then you knew what a pain in the ass he could be when he fixed on a way of doing things – he was truly the immovable object. He hated being cared for – and he gave poor David hell at times.

Adam’s doggedness was integral to his goodness and all part of what made him the reliable, dependable, totally trustworthy rock that he was, for so many of us. He couldn’t have been as good as he was if wasn’t also as stubborn.

I hope Adam had some inkling of how loved he was, how he glued his communities together. He would have squiggled away from hearing it – you all know just how he’d have changed the subject if he was being praised – but I hope that he knew. I never knew anyone as constituted for connection as Adam, anyone who so openly and transparently just wanted to be loved.

For the last twenty years I think I spoke to Adam every single week, much more often after he became ill. I am constantly reaching for my cell phone to tell him something funny or upsetting, or that I think he’ll appreciate. I suspect that most of you here are doing the same thing.

Carla Read less

In case you were wondering why we our celebrating Adam in a partially complete winery – WinterHawk was a place that Adam found solace. In better times he was always here helping out with various parts of the build. As things progressed and we were open Adam would always come by on the weekends after closing his shop. He always told me I had the most interesting patrons and he as you all can imagine enjoyed engaging with them. Towards the end of his life, it became a challenge to get him here, but we would come up with ways for him to spend time during tastings or a visit to see some work that I had just completed.
Adam chose Howard Kayne, Chris Sancomb and myself to handle the legacy of his business, Truro Designs. The three of us have taken this honor with utmost reverence to Adam and his life’s work. Chris will have more to say about where we went with this. I wanted to share that while we all know Adam as a consummate craftsman, to have access to the intimacy of his shop ... Read moreis to glimpse a level of craft and methodology rarely seen. What I have come away from this experience is a “beautiful mind”. Chris and Howard, I believe will concur.
Why are we all here? Adam was a somebody who people often describe as “The Good Shepard” and we are his flock. He enjoyed his friends and he enjoyed telling stories about their lives and triumphs. To that end I feel like I know a lot of you already, even before meeting you. I met Adam at a coffee shop and I count it my good fortune that he stopped over to our Saturday morning coffee group and started a conversation. Now that I know Adam better, I know that he was going to start that conversation the way most people breath.
We talked about projects; we talked about just about everything. We still have those conversations, I don’t think it is something I will ever give up! Read less

In case you were wondering why we our celebrating Adam in a partially complete winery – WinterHawk was a place that Adam found solace. In better times he was always here helping out with various parts of the build. As things progressed and we were open Adam would always come by on the weekends after closing his shop. He always told me I had the most interesting patrons and he as you all can imagine enjoyed engaging with them. Towards the end of his life, it became a challenge to get him here,... Read more but we would come up with ways for him to spend time during tastings or a visit to see some work that I had just completed.
Adam chose Howard Kayne, Chris Sancomb and myself to handle the legacy of his business, Truro Designs. The three of us have taken this honor with utmost reverence to Adam and his life’s work. Chris will have more to say about where we went with this. I wanted to share that while we all know Adam as a consummate craftsman, to have access to the intimacy of his shop is to glimpse a level of craft and methodology rarely seen. What I have come away from this experience is a “beautiful mind”. Chris and Howard, I believe will concur.
Why are we all here? Adam was a somebody who people often describe as “The Good Shepard” and we are his flock. He enjoyed his friends and he enjoyed telling stories about their lives and triumphs. To that end I feel like I know a lot of you already, even before meeting you. I met Adam at a coffee shop and I count it my good fortune that he stopped over to our Saturday morning coffee group and started a conversation. Now that I know Adam better, I know that he was going to start that conversation the way most people breath.
We talked about projects; we talked about just about everything. We still have those conversations, I don’t think it is something I will ever give up! Read less