Erin and Grady, thank you for including us in the beautiful and meaningful memorial.  It was amazing  to hear about Alex’s life from so many different people in his life.  We’ll always remember Alex’s bright smile, his warmth, and his generosity of spirit.  He was an utterly devoted family man, an ambitious learner, a global citizen,  and overall wonderful human; best of all, he was and did it with such wit and humor.  He always treated  himself and others with respect and grace.  He had such good energy, I would say.  We will all miss Alex in our own unique ways.  

The peaceful solid  tree right by the water, is the perfect celebration and memory of Alex,   

One cannot help but smile the minute one thinks of Alex. His smile, his energy, and his enthusiasm for people and ideas was always present and inspiring to those around him. From pressing algae into herbarium specimens to approaching new ideas in business, he was always looking for the best way to do things and inspired the best from  others. 

“How you doing?” That’s how Alex always greeted you, with genuine warmth and care. Before you could even ask how he was doing, he’d already made you feel seen and supported. That was just who Alex was — full of positivity, compassion, and a relentless enthusiasm for life, even in the face of unimaginable challenges.

We first connected on LinkedIn, and to be honest, I was hesitant at first. The opportunity he presented sounded too good to be true. But Alex turned out to be the real deal. I had the pleasure of working with him on a special project, helping him gain deep insight into the functionality of immunization information systems and how data flows between providers and jurisdictions.

Over the course of our collaboration, I came to admire Alex immensely. His love for his wife and son was evident in everything he did. Even as his treatments became more difficult, he showed up with a smile and a “wake up and bite the frog” attitude that inspired everyone around him. He was always so impressed by the accomplishments I shared during our catch-ups. I think he genuinely enjoyed hearing what I was up to — it gave him something to look forward to, and for me, it made our conversations feel even more special.

During that time, I was going through a rough patch in business, and Alex’s presence became an unexpected blessing. He once shared that he had lost a close friend to stress and overwork. That conversation shifted something in me. It made me pause, reevaluate, and prioritize what truly matters. It’s advice I still carry with me.

The way Alex carried himself during one of the most difficult times of his life — with grace, strength, and heart — is something I’ll never forget. While life may be hard, he reminded us that the world keeps moving — and we must keep moving with it, with purpose and perspective.

I am sending my deepest love and sympathy to his wife Erin and his son Grady. Alex, thank you for your light. You are deeply missed.

My family and I are sad and shocked by the news.  My mom (Elaine Harrison) and Alex’s mom (Joan) were best friends first from Longmeadow and later when they moved to the Cape.  Alex was friends with my older brother when we were young.  He was always so kind to me, even when I was being the annoying little sister.   

We saw him out here in a Cape a few years back at Arnold’s - after some competitive mini golf! 

Please do keep us updated on the service.  I’ll try to dig up some childhood photos before then. 

Warmly, Lara Slachta

From Eric Roberts 

Erin and Grady— My heart is heavy at the news of Alex’s passing.

It is hard to know where to start when I think of my friend Alex. We met at the University of Rhode Island when I saw him in the basement of the library engrossed in a phycology (algae) journal—a kindred spirit! We talked and he described a project he was working on in the lab of Marilyn Harlin. Later, I was lucky enough to do research work with him myself. I recall the two of us writing an ambitious (although unsuccessful) grant application—an application that was a bit cheeky since he was undergraduate and I was an unofficial visiting researcher. Alex and I were coauthors (with others) on a paper (“Roles of microtubules and cellulose microfibril assembly in the localization of secondary-cell-wall deposition in developing tracheary elements”). This publication was one reason I was later able to land a job in academics. Alex and Alison would also publish a delightful paper in the journal Protoplasma (“Cortical actin filaments fragment and aggregate to form chloroplast-associated and free F-actin rings in mechanically isolated Zinnia mesophyll cells”). His intellect, curiosity, and ambition were truly amazing. Some would be surprised that Alex did not complete his undergraduate degree. The reason was classically Alex—he had finished all the upper-divisional requirements (and more), but saw no reason to go backwards and complete the elementary requirements (which, to be sure, he had greatly surpassed). The educational system does not always know how to deal with intellects that are outside the norm, and that was Alex.

One of Alex’s many notable traits was that he attracted interesting people. At URI, he was at the nucleus of an unlikely group of undergraduates and graduate students who made an academic home in the attic of Ranger Hall (which housed the Botany Department). Among these were Shannon Donovan, Mary Beth Abel, Steven Brownell, Amy O’Donnell, Ben Knight, Marie Goggin, Martha Apple, Joe Rodriguez, Ken Uhnak, and others. This was a unique collection of smart, quirky people, and in many ways, the gravitational force that united this group was Alex Frost.

Around the same time that it became clear that I would not find permanent work at URI, Alex talked to me about an idea that would eventually develop into an internet business to edit scientific papers for scientists whose primary language was not English. Part of the concept was, obviously, to make money, but Alex also thought that there were many scientists whose good work was unrecognized because of the difficulty they had expressing their ideas in English. From this, the Biology Editors Company (later also Science Editors, and others) was born. The business had offices in the Lily Pads Office Park in Peacedale, in a former chapel. Mind you, this was in the very early days of internet commerce, and so many things that we take for granted today did not exist. For example, Alex and I learned to write HTML with a text editor and designed our website by hand. At the time, many users connected to the internet using a modem, which was painfully slow, so our site was designed to be simple and load quickly. I recall how, to our horror, we loaded our first pages to the web and accidentally deleted the entire site. It took us a day to figure out what we did. When creating the business, Alex mentioned that it would be important to occasionally do pro bono work for talented scientists who could not afford to pay. This is another example of how Alex felt the world beyond himself. Within a day or two of going live, I recall getting our first customer inquiry. We spent 30 minutes marveling at this small miracle, then realized we needed to quote a price. We sent a quote, which was accepted, and then started to work. I think neither of us had realized how much time would actually be involved. Suffice it to say that our first customer got an excellent deal. Of the two of us, Alex was clearly the one who understood and enjoyed, business. We spent a LOT of time together in those years. I learned a lot and had an excellent time with my friend.

Alex always dreamed big, so it was not long before there were additional Biology Editors employees and his new business, the Cryptogamic Botany Company (cryptogams being lower plants like ferns, mosses, and algae). One of the main products of the Cryptogamic Botany Company was pressed seaweeds sold as works of art. (They were amazingly beautiful.) I recall getting ready to attend an art show with Alex where we were vendors. We were discussing pricing, and I thought $50 for a large pressing would be a good price. Alex laughed and said it should be sold for at least $750. At the time, I thought he was crazy, but several sales later, his business acumen showed he was correct. (“This is a piece of art,”: he told me. “People will enjoy its beauty forever.”) Working with another employee, Molly Fallon, Alex wrote and published a small book called “The Guide to Pressing Seaweed: Practical Instructions for Students, Educators, and Enthusiasts”. In this, you can see Alex’s delight for nature, his keen aesthetic and artistic eye, and his love of sharing the world with others.

I knew Alex long enough to see the arc of his life. The two most significant changes I saw were when he met Erin and when Grady was born. I was acquainted with Erin when she was with the Rhode Island Wild Plant Society. When she and Alex started seeing each other, his worldview shifted. I still recall the lovely wedding at which I was honored to serve as a groomsman. His delight in Grady, his son, was obvious, and I suspect that Grady will share all the best of his father’s playful and adventurous spirit.

I will miss my friend Alex. He was a person of unusual curiosity and intellect. He could be serious, but was also funny and spontaneous. He was artistic and creative. He mixed ambition with compassion. He loved and was loved by many. His spirit will continue to inspire and surely resonate through all those he touched during his full life.

With much love,

Eric Roberts