UH professor Leslie M. Marenchin, 54, died this past weekend after a fall at his home, as reported in the Houston Chronicle. In the last few days, I've found posts by students, present and former, scattered around the internet (I've taken the liberty of re-posting some of them here). And since the Houston Chronicle removed the "comments" option on its articles, I created this blog to provide a place for everyone to post their thoughts, and read others.
I cannot tell you what a comfort it is to Leslie's family and friends to read these posts, and to know that their feelings for Leslie are shared by others.
NOTE: IF YOU WANT TO POST A COMMENT BUT DON'T WANT TO DEAL WITH THE BURDENS OF THE BLOG POSTING PROCESS, FEEL FREE TO SEND ME YOUR COMMENTS AND I WILL SEE THAT THEY ARE POSTED. Send to: keithjon@hotmail.com
6 comments:
"...all we are is dust in the wind"...I love you Leslie and will miss you! Linda
I've known Leslie and his sister Renee for over 30 years, they are like family..when they came home to Pennsylvania to visit we got together for dinner and a few drinks and many many long deep discussions about life,religion,the universe etc. Leslie always had a big smile on his face...he loved traveling to Italy...the news of his accidental death really shocked me and others..although I didn't see him more than once or twice a year since he moved I will miss him and our conversations..he was very intelligent...hang in there Renee he is now with your parents and sister.....love, Andy
I remember best two traits about our friend Leslie – his longing for love and his devotion to the search for truth.
The reminiscences of friends and students on this blog amply demonstrate the love that he gave and received. He loved, and was loved by, his sister Renee and his good friends, Freebird, Bruce, and Fernando.
I remember that he adopted a stray cat some years ago. The veterinarian told him that the cat had a feline disease that would be eventually fatal. Leslie chose to keep the cat as long as he could, to give the animal a few months of comfort and happiness, even though he knew that he would grow to love it and that therefore loss and sorrow were inevitable.
But, it is his search for the truth that I think most about now. I saw Leslie on Thanksgiving and when I asked him how his classes were going, he said, “Oh, my classes are wonderful. I love teaching.” Sharing his passion for inquiry with his students brightened his life.
Leslie had been in a philosophy reading group with two friends for over 20 years, and appropriately, it was those friends who found his body when they came to his home for a meeting of the group.
Leslie has now proven the final theorem, unraveled the last syllogism. Whatever is after death, he has encountered, and the encounter left on his face an expression of great peace.
His friends have different beliefs about the afterlife. Some of us may believe that the atoms of his fragile mortal body are even now dispersing into the sweet oblivion of the cosmic dust. Some may believe that his soul is taking its seat on the vast Ferris wheel of reincarnation. While we are left behind like children in line at the county fair, he is carried away from us toward the lights of a new city. Some may believe that he has been welcomed by a loving and forgiving God. Perhaps he has solved there the true nature of universals and can ask Kant a few pointed questions in that inimitable wry voice that we remember so well.
Regardless of these beliefs, we can all take comfort in the indisputable fact that the effects of Leslie’s life continue in the hearts and minds of those gathered here today. He leaves behind friends and a sister whose hearts carry the imprint of his humor and his intelligence and his sadness. His students, whether they become businesspeople or teachers or engineers, carry forward his commitment to the search for truth and the ability to reason critically about the important issues in their lives.
I lived in Houston for 13 years, 1976-1989, and Les and I met in graduate school at Rice. We became good friends. I was always giving Les a hard time about whatever we were studying in philosophy. We were always arguing, sparring. I appreciated Les as an intellectual for his ability to connect philosophy with art and life. I appreciate him as a person for sticking by me through all the tumult of our lives during those years. The last time I saw Les was about ten years ago, when I came to Houston to give a lecture at the local Islamic center. I felt as if we had been away from one another only for a week instead of the years that had gone by. The conversations seemed to pick up right where we had left off. When I decided to move to Iran, Les was very encouraging. With Les I felt that we had a real understanding between us that far transcended whatever differences in our opinions about problems and issues. More important than understanding, though, we were friends; and I will always remember him with affection. My condolences to all his friends and family.
-Hajj Muhammad (Gary) Legenhausen
Leslie and I were great friends during our college and post college years. The first thing I noticed about Les was his long frizzy shoulder length black hair, the second was his laugh. I was hooked. His interests then were eclectic: the Beats, Kerouac, Updike, the Beatles (he was a huge fan), Stravinsky, 60 Minutes (which he watched religiously), Woody Allen, Dr. Winter, Jerry Weinberger, Leon Miller, Charlie Patton, David Hume, Wittgenstein, Bertrand Russell, Springsteen, Charlie Parker, chicks, beer, and more beer.
Being with Leslie, you knew you were always one step away from an adventure. One fond memory: hopping into his black VW bug and driving from Lancaster to Philadelphia to see Allen Ginsberg perform at the Main Point. By this time Ginsberg was more performer than poet, but we loved every minute of the show. On the drive back back,with beer in tow, we shouted out lines from HOWL for all to hear "I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madmen, starving hysterical naked dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix..."
It was a glorious moment in time.
It was being with Les.
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