Additional statements can be found at
https://as.nyu.edu/departments/french/people/InMemoriam_NancyRegalado.html
One of things I so valued about Nancy was the way she made family events a priority. She traveled to Vermont for the wedding of our son Tom, and again more recently for my 80th birthday party. We had wonderful visits when she joined Corinne in New Orleans in the post-COVID years. Earlier she traveled to Mississippi for a special cousins get together at Margery and David’s house in McComb, where 5 of us delved into family history.
I last saw Nancy in March, at a gathering at Margery and David’s apartment in Riverdale. I needed to get back to Penn Station. On the spot Nancy invited me to ride downtown with her in her car service. With her clear certainty, Nancy persuaded the driver that, even though I was not sight-impaired and had no reservation, it was perfectly reasonable for me to accompany her on the trip. And so it was.
My firstborn son John Nicholas had an undiagnosed neurological disease. When he was two, we were sent to Mount Sinai Hospital for 3 days of neurological testing. It happened that my birthday fell on one of those days. Nancy came uptown and joined my sister Beth for an impromptu birthday party in John Nicky’s hospital room. Nancy brought me a beautiful blue cloisonné necklace which I wear to this day, and they lifted my spirits immeasurably.
When my children were young, we lived in West Virginia, Nancy invited our family to stay in her apartment on a couple of trips to NYC. Her book-crammed apartment filled with art and mementos from a lifetime of travel was a great launch pad for visiting the city and turned 3-year-old Tom into a lifelong city lover.
From afar, I appreciated Nancy’s advocacy for gun control. When her public appearances on behalf of gun control resulted in a connection to her two half sisters, I watched in admiration as she and her siblings incorporated them into the family with open-hearted generosity, providing all of us in the wider family with a model of how to be inclusive and loving.
In the spirit of family love which Nancy so embodied,
Gail Falk - Cousin
My mother, Joy Hume Falk, was the youngest in her family, and I am her youngest, so I grew up with much older cousins, including the four Freeman siblings. My earliest clear memory of Nancy is from her wedding in 1960, when I was six years old. I felt awed and bashful around this beautiful, confident woman and her dashing, playful husband, Antonio. A couple of years later, Nancy and Antonio gave me a gift: a spray bottle of rose-scented perfume in a rose-colored box. I had never received such a girly present. I may or may not have actually used it, but it made me feel special. That was one of Nancy’s superpowers—she made everyone she encountered feel special, interesting, and worth listening to. She knew how to probe, show genuine curiosity, and sustain a fast-paced repartee, punctuated by her frequent chuckles and her delight in conversational connection. I was lucky to experience Nancy’s warm interest even during phases of my life when I felt extremely uninteresting.
When I moved to New York for college, I would occasionally travel from the Upper West Side to Nancy’s apartment in the West Village. To me, she represented the quintessential New York academic family: two professors,
children who attended a cool private school, and a rich cultural environment. I’m sure I idealized her life. Another thing about Nancy was that she always seemed positive and cheerful, so whatever struggles she may have been experiencing were not apparent to me then. I also remember wonderful meals, magically produced in her tiny kitchen, often followed by a luscious lemon or orange sponge for dessert. She made cooking seem easy, fun, and pleasurable, and I know she provided meals, care, and a welcoming table to many others over the years. A fun fact: I met my husband, Dan Herman, in 1978, and early in our relationship it emerged that, as an NYU student, he had taken French classes with Nancy—and that she was his favorite professor! Even more amazing, Nancy remembered Dan, despite his having transferred out of NYU for his final two years of college.
As we all grew older, the twenty-year generational gap felt less pronounced and easier to cross. One much later memory that stands out is helping Nancy pack her books as she prepared to leave the Bleecker St. apartment and move to West 13th Street. Margery was there too, and perhaps others. I only dropped in for a day during what was a long and arduous process, but the moment stays with me because it highlights another essential part of Nancy: her profound connection to books. I imagine parting with many of them must have been excruciating, as they were not just paper, ink, and cardboard, but part of her very essence. Still, she did it, keeping enough to surround herself and Nat with loads of books in their new apartment.During her years with Nat, I mostly saw Nancy at family events and gatherings, though I also had a few more intimate visits that revealed a fuller picture of her life, including the painful experiences she had endured. I deeply appreciated being entrusted with those stories and hearing about the hard parts. In my book, that kind of honesty is the ultimate relationship gift.
I am also grateful to have seen Nancy several times in the past coupl e of years, both at her apartment (“You must come and stay!”) and at the celebratory 90th birthday party she shared with Ellen last June. Beaming as she sat before her gorgeous birthday cake, she said she wanted to express
her feelings about turning ninety in just a few simple words. She said she had trouble thinking of the last word, and then realized it was “joyful.” Nancy’s appreciation of and engagement with life persisted for more than 90 years and knowing her was one of the most joyful experiences of my life.
Beth Falk - cousin
I am ashamed that with the selfishness of childhood, I did not ever ask anything about Nancy's distinguished career. I just knew her as our wonderful neighbor down the hall. Because Nancy's apartment, like ours, was crammed floor to ceiling with books, I did not realize until adulthood that not everyone lived surrounded by books and with such a love of learning. I have many fond memories of hours spent playing board games and listening to records in that apartment. While I am glad (and astonished) to learn of Nancy's scholarship and accolades, I will always remember her best as the warm and kind auntie down the hall.
Lucy Deakins - friend
My favorite memory of Nancy was from August 2008, whern I was staying in Brittany after a conference. Nancy very kindly invited me to visit her, her sister, and Nat in Moncontour. If I remember correctly, their gite was built right into the city’s walls. My best recollection was just me and Nancy meandering around the cobbled streets of the town, and, particularly, some kind of museum--of what, I can’t remember, but it was all very sweet.
Joyce Coleman - colleague
Souvenirs et moments avec la famille Méchin: https://tinyurl.com/souvenirsnancy.
Famille Méchin
I remember the very first time I met Nancy. She had been on sabbatical, so I didn’t see her until my second year on the New York City campus of NYU, in 1994. Nancy emerged from the elevator on the 6th floor of 19 University Place and someone introduced us. Nancy exclaimed with joy, “Ah, the budding medievalist!” It was the first time anyone had called me a medievalist and I was delighted to adopt the identity and join the loving family of medievalists that Timmie Vitz and Nancy brought together and nurtured.
And nurture they did. Through my doctoral coursework, exams, and dissertation. Through the birth of my first, second, then third child. Through my first book project (Performing Medieval Narrative, which Timmie, Nancy, and I edited together.). Through my various jobs in academia. Through the various highs and lows of life.
The very first time I left my firstborn was the day of my dissertation defense. My sister babysat my three-week-old newborn in Nancy’s apartment while I presented in front of my committee. I was more nervous about leaving my son than I was about defending my dissertation. Though knowing he was nestled in Nancy’s apartment gave me consolation.
I learned so much from Nancy. I now pass on to my own students Nancy’s lessons on the finer points of writing. A potential idea you are itching to add to your essay? “It needs a ticket to get in!” Getting carried away by your own eloquence? “You’re gilding the lily!” Want to split that infinitive? …It is not to be done!
Once a student of Nancy, always a student of Nancy. Nancy was a gracious mentor and role model, ever curious and ever caring, from the very first day I met Nancy through to my final visit with her as a nonagenarian (ok, sorry, Nancy–I know I’m "gilding the lily,” but I’ve always wanted to incorporate “nonagenarian” into a public written work and your beautifully long life has given me an excuse to do it!).
When I visited Nancy just five days before her death, she was still asking me about me, about my family, about Timmie. We talked about coffee, which she missed now that she wasn’t allowed it; we talked about the resilience of the birch trees lining the drive up to Tolstoy’s estate; we talked about writing (“It’s hard!” Nancy affirmed).
On that final visit, we moved from her room to the gym, where Nancy slogged her way through her physical-therapy exercises. “You see I’m struggling,” she said. I nodded, “Yes.” “Who did this to me?” she asked. I tilted my head. “Chronos?” I suggested. Nancy laughed. Only Chronos could contend with Nancy the nonagenarian. But Chronos has not won completely: Nancy’s teachings, Nancy’s memory, and Nancy’s love still live on through us, through our students, and through our families. Nancy: I thank you and I love you.
Marilyn Lawrence — former student
I had the honour of a friendship with Nancy for well over forty years, As a young person in the fields of late classical and medieval thought, I was often in New York to give a lecture, participate in a conference, or just to confer with colleagues, such as Nancy, who was a marvellous fund of information on many subjects outside Old French literature. To take one example: last October, I sent her the lengthy introduction to a study of Dante's Commedia. Not only did she read it thoroughly, despite a problem with her vision, but made comments that were equal if not superior to my colleagues in philosophy and Italian literature. We had planned a long conversation,and I know that I will not be able to find a partner to replace her. It was always like this. She would put down whatever she was working on and throw herself fully into the issues brought to her by colleagues. Her generosity was limitless, as was her intelligence in dealing with a vast array of issues in medieval culture. What I liked about her was her openness to new problems, while making sure that in dealing with them, her feet remained firmly on the ground. Within her field, her work was highly respected, both in North America and France. She took renown in her stride, never allowing herself to be singled out for special attention. It was the humility of a truly distinguished scholar.
Brian Stock - colleague
Nancy, I think, was one of the kindest, the most generous, of medievalists. At conferences, I could confidently say to a research student "Do come and meet Nancy Regalado": I knew that she would be kind and encouraging: would read a chapter, make valuable suggestions, and leave the student feeling a welcome part of the community of late medieval scholarship. Without fail, the student would say "Oh, she's so nice ...!"
Jane Taylor - colleague
À ce jour de Noël, c’est avec une grande émotion que j’apprends, par hasard, la disparition de Madame Nancy Freeman Regalado. J’adresse toutes mes condoléances à ses proches et, pour rendre hommage à sa mémoire, je partage avec eux les souvenirs que j’ai d’elle. Je ne suis certainement pas une de ses connaissances intimes, mais mon expérience témoigne d’autant mieux de son humanité.
Cela commence en février 2013, il y a donc une douzaine d’années. Je venais de terminer mon mémoire de master sur Rutebeuf que je préparais dans une université en Corée du Sud (mon pays natal) et pour lequel, comme il se devait, la lecture de son livre sur Poetic Patterns in Rutebeuf avait été décisive. J’ai donc surmonté ma timidité habituelle pour lui envoyer le résumé de mon mémoire, mais sans beaucoup d’espérance pour une réponse : j’attendais tout au plus un simple accusé de réception, si possible avec quelques mots chaleureux, ce qui serait déjà quelque chose pour un novice que j’étais, de la part d’une telle autorité. Mais cela s’est passé autrement, parce que j’ai reçu d’elle, quelques jours après, plusieurs lignes enthousiasmées, imprégnées d’une réelle curiosité. Cette réponse y a été pour beaucoup dans ma décision de poursuivre mes études, et d’aller en France pour une thèse sur Rutebeuf.
Pendant mes années de doctorat, elle a été en quelque sorte constamment présente, d’une façon ou d’une autre. Quand elle est venue à Paris, elle a bien voulu m’inviter pour un café, et c’est ainsi que je l’ai rencontrée deux fois, en 2015 puis en 2016, à La Liberté (juste à côté de la station de métro Denfert-Rochereau). Il y aurait pu y avoir une troisième fois, si ce n’était le covid… Je lui ai aussi régulièrement envoyé mes pages qu’elle lisait toujours avec un grand intérêt, en dépit de ses difficultés de vue. Et enfin, en décembre 2021, elle a assisté en visioconférence à la soutenance de ma thèse, cette thèse que je tenais à lui dédier.
Ce n’est pas que ma vision de Rutebeuf ait été toujours en accord avec celle qu’elle avait proposée dans sa thèse à elle. Mais elle n’y a vu aucun problème ; je dirais même qu’elle m’a constamment encouragé de sortir de son chemin (mais y suis-je parvenu ? ai-je jamais pu trouver une seule direction qu’elle n’ait pas précédemment indiquée ?). Autant ou plus que par ses publications lumineuses, elle m’a instruit par cette ouverture d’esprit. Je comprends l’admiration qu’elle ait pu inspirer auprès de ses élèves parmi lesquels, si l’on me permet, je voudrais compter, ne serait-ce que comme un dernier venu.
« Tant a en li de bien a dire
Que trop est belle la matiere.
Se j’estoie bons escrivens,
Ainz seroie d’escrire vains
Que je vous eüsse conté
La terce part de sa bonté
Ne la quarte ne redeïsme :
Ce set chacuns par lui meïsme. »
(Rutebeuf, Un Dist de Nostre Dame. — Traduction de Michel Zink : Il y a tant de bien à en dire / que c'est un sujet magnifique. / Même si j'étais bon copiste, / je serais fatigue d'écrire / avant de vous avoir raconté / le tiers de ses qualités, / et même le quart ou le centième : / chacun le sait bien par lui-même. »)
Moon Sung-Wook - former student
Snippets from 25 years of knowing Nancy:
- Before I met her, I knew who she was. Stella admired her, and spoke often of her. On my first visit to Margery & David in NOLA, I happened to answer a phone call from her & introduced myself, and she made me feel very welcome.
- Though she could no longer drink wine, she always liked to taste what I brought. She had a pretty little sherry glass for the purpose.
- Every Fourth we would shell peas or slice strawberries together, or both.
- In late summer, 2020, I drove Nancy, Margery, & David to NOLA for a visit, and sometimes ferried her to Maine or back. She was a great traveling companion.
- As she aged in the last few years, having troubles with hearing, eyesight, balance, and her heart, among other things, I was constantly amazed at her unfailing cheer and good will.
- Once at the rehab facility in Brooklyn she was doing an exercise in her room. She had trouble holding her head up so I held it upright. She joked that we should make a silent comic movie out of it, like Chaplin.
- The evening before she passed, my son Isaiah and I were visiting her. She was asleep the whole time, so after introducing ourselves we played cards and talked loudly. I read to her from Right Ho, Jeeves by PG Wodehouse.
As we were getting ready to leave she seemed momentarily to wake and open her eyes. She looked right at us, and we said “Hi, Nancy! It’s Peter and Isaiah!” She smiled immediately (you all know that smile!) and then went back to sleep.
Peter Button — nephew
Nancy was a gift to the world. I had the good fortune to land her as my adviser at NYU, where she was unflaggingly encouraging and helpful, all the while pushing me to do better. She shared her deep medieval knowledge with a joy and enthusiasm that drew us in to the complex and fascinating intercultural period of her expertise. It was through Nancy that I learned never to call the medieval ages "dark." I was a confused grad student, struggling with several interests while at NYU after a childhood/young adulthood on the move. Nancy patiently listened, even as she deplored my decision not to continue after completing the PhD coursework, in favor of a publishing career where I've worked ever since. But the intellectual part of my brain was fulfilled only when I went back to complete the PhD decades later, at UMD College Park. I'd always stayed in touch with Nancy, however loosely, and so I sucked up my courage and asked her for a recommendation when applying. Graciously, she agreed. Later, we enjoyed a tea visit together one time when I was visiting New York. She was as delightful and welcoming as ever. I will always be grateful that Nancy's expansive spirit intersected for a time with my path, enlightening it. She leaves a wonderful legacy for her family. In sympathy, empathy, and celebration of a beautiful life.
Annie Collier Rehill — former student
Simple Gifts
'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come 'round right.
-- Elder Joseph Brackett
Thankful to have had Nancy in my life. For her love and caring for all those around her, for her joie de vivre that she always shared, for her boundless curiosity that she brought to every conversation, and for her thoughtfulness that she shared with so many simple gifts. She never required a specific occasion to send a little keepsake that she had retained as a memory for one of our experiences together, and being the recipient of these unexpected but delightful gifts would always lift my spirits and carry me forward for days on end. I hope that many of us can carry this tradition forward as a way of keeping Nancy and her spirit forever with us.
Gregory Freeman — nephew
C'est avec une grande émotion que jai appris le décès de Nancy. Les souvenirs sont nombreux, je ne vais pas tous les énumérer. Elle a fait partie des premiers étudiants à Yale de mon mari Daniel Poirion ce remonte bien loin....!
Par la suite elle a toujours gardé une relation proche pour les travaux intellectuels, mais aussi une grande amitié avec notre famille. Nancy avait organisé au debut des annees 1990 avec mon mari un colloque à Yale, ce qui a ete un moment tres intense.
Nancy etait si accueillante, avec toujours lampathie qui la carracterise lorsque nous étions de passage à N. Y. Nancy j'aurais tant de souvenirs et d'anecdotes à raconté. Ici je retiens sa grande gentillesse son huminité dans les moments difficiles.
Je pense à ses enfants que nous avons bien connu, ils vont vivres avec le souvenir d'une mère d'une grande bonté, et une générosité. Je présente mes plus sincères condoléances à ses enfants et sa famille.
Jacqueline Poirion — friend
Nancy was a force of nature. La “grande dame” of the French Department will be sorely missed. She left an indelible mark on all of us who had the pleasure of knowing her and we are numerous. Studying with her, being her teaching assistant and her colleague was a treat and a profound learning experience. She was an extraordinary scholar of medieval literature – Le roman de la rose will be forever associated with her – an exemplary reader of PhD dissertations, a true mentor and role model for young scholars.
I had the honor of knowing her and working with her for over forty years. She was a fierce ally who did not shy away from standing strong and championing the rights of graduate students, younger colleagues, gun control and many of the other issues she espoused. Her empathy and generosity were boundless as well as her extraordinary energy and curiosity which propelled and bolstered those around her. She kept our community connected throughout the years. Our luncheons, tea parties, conferences, literary and political conversations will remain etched in my memory. I grieve her passing but know that she remains a part of me.
Henriette Goldwyn — colleague
I am so sorry you have lost your mother and sad that all of us have lost a dear and cherished friend.
Nancy and I met when your grandparents moved the family to Mill Valley, California. We were 11, lived 2 blocks apart, and have stayed in touch for almost all of our 90 years. I cherished this friendship and always feel blessed when I find a friend that wants to maintain contact through all the stages of life. I remember well Marianna when you made your mother a grandmother. She was so excited and anxious to share.
I met you and your brother twice. Not memorable occasions for you I am sure as you were both very young. The first was 1978, we had just moved from California to Washington, DC. I took the train to New York and spent the night in your 100 Bleaker St. home. Slept in the library. I was amazed that anyone could have that many books. Probably because we moved 18 times and you stayed put.
The second time, you, your brother and Mom had rented a vacation house on Edisto island
On your way home you stopped and spent the night with us in Roanoke, VA. You might remember that as I was building a doll house in the basement.
Your mother was great. The last two summers she stayed with your brother she Ubered to see us near Boston. What a treat that was. If it works I will send you a picture I snapped as we enjoyed soup, salad and bread sticks at an Olive Garden lunch. We had so much to share they nearly had to throw us out to prepare for the dinner crowd.
I know that she was incredibly proud of her children. Anton and his family giving her that great summer vacation every year and you, always there for her. When I questioned her about living alone she replied “ Mariana is only 15 minutes away and she can be there in a heartbeat”. How wonderful that you were so close and she was able to maintain her independence.
Our condolences to your family as you travel this difficult time. Hold everyone close. Family is everything.
Sincerely,
Susan Peterson Hoots — friend
I loved being with your mom and always recall that she said she spent her life working on three curmudgeons: Baudelaire, Rutebeuf, and Villon--that made me feel right at home with my grumpy poet, Gautier de Coinci. But it was her great collaborative work on Fauvel that propelled me toward the Salle des manuscrits at the BnF. In that hushed space, under its tall, elegant windows, I followed her lead and learned to listen to books sing.
The years musing on performance, memory, and manuscripts with the MARS dynamic duo, your mom and Timmie, were surely the best of times!
One thing you didn't mention, though, was how very proud she was of the work you and Anton have done and do. She never failed to marvel at that!
Karen Duys — former student
Querida familia, les acompaño de corazón en este momento tan difícil. Lamento profundamente su pérdida y deseo que encuentren consuelo en los recuerdos compartidos y en el cariño de quienes los rodean. Cuenten conmigo para lo que necesiten. Un abrazo muy fuerte.
Eufemia Huaraca — friend
Nancy showed me what a force for good in the profession can do. I am another in the bevy of colleagues who cannot imagine my professional life without her. At every step along the way, she was an engaging mentor who asked you the right lead question at just the right time. Nancy the medievalist who attuned us to the poetry of rascal poets, Rutebeuf and François Villon, their personal voices. The scholar with pitch perfect French who was as vital a part of a community in Paris as in New York, an internationaliste in close exchange with friends across time zones right through her last year. The researcher with a sixth sense about theater and performance, and a quick eye for manuscript details. Throughout her years, she shared her sense of common cause with so many of us fellow women scholars, and this long before our numbers were significant on campus, and feminist groups were recognized in the academy. This, I learned, was only one of her life-long commitments. Her anti-war views and opposition to gun violence had her out on New York streets, and on the phone with her friends to compare strategies and swap stories. I admire the way she kept what was important in life out front. That was one reason why Nancy never stopped connecting with friends, new and old. Above all, I love Nancy who brought people together with pizzazz.
Helen Solterer — colleague
Growing up, I thought of Nancy as an ideal of everything a New Yorker should be - a generous host, thoughtful critic, lover of culture, and fierce political advocate. Through the years, and especially since living in the same city for the last decade or so, I got to know her more deeply in her role of aunt, sister, mother, neighbor. All of these selves opened another window onto a remarkable woman.
Nancy was a person you could always talk to, and whose curiosity and engagement for topics from the most critical global shifts to the family-mundane seemed never ending. I learned so much about how to live fully from her.
Several recent moments with Nancy are vivid in my mind these days, though I can’t even place them in time or remember the scenes fully. I can picture a group of family in her apartment last year, doubled over with laughter at some racy story, with Nancy laughing until tears streamed down her face. I hear her voice enthusing with my teenage son about books, or see her hands working on the lawn in Maine hulling a mountain of strawberries. I am remembering her booming voice chanting at a recent demonstration a month or so ago, standing in solidarity with immigrants, and I can visualize her face even in her last few weeks, smiling with curiosity, affection, and energy at everything coming her way, even in hard times. will miss her, and I hold her daily in my thoughts.
Stella Billings — niece
As a little sister. I remember Nancy as a skinny teen who ate toast laden with butter & sugar for breakfast. She was popular and smart. Her boyfriends often tried to bribe me with a quarter to leave the living room where they sat.
One boyfriend went with Nancy, our father & me on a fishing expedition in the San Francisco Bay. We capsized and Nancy was terrified! Her boyfriend and dad kept us all calm until the Coast Guard rescued us. Nancy loved theater; she performed in several highschool & community performances, including playing the Queen of Hearts at the open-air Mountain Theater. Nancy went to Wellesley College in Massachusetts, so I didn’t see much of her until she married Antonio Regalado. They were both studying and teaching at Yale, living in an apartment over a loud bar. I lived with them during a rough time for me, and I was always welcome! Just as Nancy was welcoming all her life.
Margery Freeman — sister
Mirella and I add our voices to the legion of family members, colleagues, and friends that mourn the loss of Nancy, a person whose great heart and mind illuminated and enriched the lives of so many. We will never stop missing her.
Charles Affron — colleague
I am so very sorry to hear of Nancy's passing. She was one of my professors at NYU back in 1979, and I always recalled her French linguistics class with great fondness. We reconnected many years later, and a friend and I would get together with her for brunch on my occasional visits to NYC. Nancy was always a delight! So smart, so engaged, so passionate, always good natured. Recently, I think we went nearly two years without seeing her, and so I am very grateful that on September 20 of this year my friend and I had brunch with her at Society Cafe, the little restaurant in a boutique hotel across the street from her apartment building. It was our go-to place for brunch and the conversation was lively, as always. Nancy was a thoroughly lovely woman and I am grateful to have known her.
Robert Dardano — former student
I'm so sorry to hear of Nancy's passing -- although I hadn't seen her in several years, it was a pleasure to know she was bringing light to the world as she always did. She was a kind and generous advisor and a fiercely loyal friend. Her memory is a blessing to so many of us. And to Mariana, I know from experience that the joys and challenges of caregiving are many. Three cheers for you as you accompanied Nancy on her journey.
Elizabeth Wright — former student
I send you sweetness and consoling thoughts on this Thanksgiving Day, which comes so soon after Nancy has passed. I remember her making coffee first thing in the morning when I stayed with her in January. The pot held a seemingly inexhaustible supply of refills. When Edward and Michelle arrived that first morning, Nancy's bamboo tongs for the toaster were missing. Michelle found them after a search; Nancy fairly chortled with delight; I felt a gust of family happiness. Love, Mary Ann
Mary Ann Barton — sister
Each time my thoughts return to the news of Nancy's passing I feel again the pang of her loss. Although she wasn't my thesis director, she was a mentor and model for me throughout my career. At the beginning, she taught me how to write an abstract and, as my first listener, initiated me into the art of giving conference papers. At every point through the years, Nancy was the best reader of my work in progress, whether articles or books: her comments on every level of the text from style to content reflected the generosity of her spirit and the keenness of her intelligence as she aimed to help me articulate what it was I wanted to say or do. She was the best of our profession as a scholar and a human being. The eight-foot long toy stuffed snake she and Marianna found on the curb many years ago in NY and brought along on a visit to give to my first son remains in his bedroom as a sign of her playful spirit and I love to see it as the visual sign of her continuing presence in my life. I treasure our long friendship and mourn her loss along with her loving family and friends. RIP, Nancy dear.
Matilda Bruckner — former student
After my parents divorced and my mother left to be a home care nurse, she and I would spend time with the Norman and Charlotte Freeman. It may have been only one week, but it represented all I missed about family. Nancy and David were closest to my age, so we played together. The highlight of my stay was Sunday, when Aunt Charlotte set up a mini church--small chairs with song books on each one in front of the piano. It was magical.
The first time Nancy came to one of my dinner parties in Bayside, she was very pregnant with a shirt that said "Baby" pointing down.Years later we happened to be in France at the same time, so Dick asked her to translate at his meeting with a fellow beekeeper. When she spoke of this at my husband's memorial service, it was to note that little interpretation was needed between these two men of the same hobby! Recently I was with Nancy at Cousin Jeff's 90th birthday, comparing Rollators. What fun! Thank you, Mariana, for having us remember this bright star!
Love--ViVi
Virginia Hlavsa — cousin
This is very sad news. I had hoped to ask to visit Nancy after Thanksgiving but now all I can do is cherish memories that go back a long time, even to nursery school days with my daughter Cathy [and Mariana]. Nancy and I had so many connections via our love of manuscripts. She often asked me about pictures and I often asked her about texts in French, and when Nate was sick and after he died Nancy, Peggy Brown, Carla Lord and I had multiple teas and dinners together, not just as widows, but as friends to share happy memories and new projects.
Lucy Sandler — colleague
I was graduate secretary in the French Department of NYU from 1984-1986, during which Nancy was Director of Graduate Studies (some of that tenure she shared with Charles Affron). It was a bit of a rocky start, because I had mistakenly assumed that the job was no different than undergraduate secretary, which I had just finished doing for a year. It was far more complicated, as the stakes were much higher for graduate students aiming to become professors or teachers than for undergraduate students usually just taking a French class. I was a little ashamed that I had eschewed training from my predecessor, Peter Dickinson, but Nancy walked me through some of the more important tasks with what I call her “firm patience.” As soon as I showed the humility to absorb what she was showing me, our professional relationship was forever after smooth.
As I became much better at my job, I sought ways to make it easier for Nancy to do hers. Figuring out which students had genuinely urgent problems and which were perpetual office hour pains was my first endeavor. Once I knocked on the door after just 5 minutes to “remind” her of a non-existent meeting. After the time thief was gone, she wondered how she’d forgotten about this meeting, and erupted in laughter when I told her there was no meeting --I just knew precisely how much she wanted to be rescued. After that, our rapport could be positively telepathic.
I began to realize that the piles and piles on Nancy’s desk were not the mark of a disorganized mind, but rather of a person who was in the habit of unconsciously assuming that time would expand to accommodate all the things she needed to get done. (Indeed, I am quite sure this is actually the case with many working mothers.) She considered every flyer in her inbox, and invariably had the sincere thought that she might go to that reading or demonstration or lecture (because everything interested her.) But eventually, there were tasks she needed to do that got buried under this or that pile, and this was a problem. So I developed the habit once a month of coming in early and organizing her desk. The first time I did so, I will never forget her delighted surprise at opening the door to the completely unexpected decluttering. I sat her down and explained, “You’ll note the garbage can is full – don’t even look in there, just trust me. Then everything else is triaged by: To Do Now, To Do Soon, To Do Later.” So this way I kept her treasured piles, but found a way for her to work through them efficiently (and agreeing with all of my designations, I’m proud to say.) And at the end of that very day, she plowed through all the urgent tasks, and many of the others, at the end telling me, “I didn’t even realize the anxiety I was carrying around about that desk, but I feel much better! Thank you!”
Over time, we had many personal conversations it is rare to have with one’s boss, and when she told me to please let her know when I came back into town after I moved to California, there was no doubt in my mind as to her sincerity, and so we had lunch several times over the past 30 years. But it had been over a decade since my last visit when I let her know I would finally take her up on her offer to host me anytime in her guest apartment. Thank God we had a very long conversation on Facetime before we got down to business – which was to schedule my visit with my husband from October 9 to October 14. October 9th was the day Nancy fell, exactly when we were in the air.
Reading Mariana’s text from the E.R. upon landing, my primary emotions were of course concern and fear, but right behind those were the intense disappointment that we would not have those hours of decompression and swapping New York stories in her apartment after our sorties into the city. David and I made sure our trip was still memorable, and I was extremely grateful that those years working together had bequeathed Nancy and me a friendship in which we genuinely could often finish each other’s sentences, because we had all of those conversations in my head, minus, unfortunately. some wonderful anecdotes of adventures she had in Maine or Brittany or New Orleans.
She was one of the most treasured friendships of my life and I will keep having conversation with her in my head for many years to come.
Mark Olmstead — colleague
We have been thinking and talking constantly about your mom and our beloved sister, aunt, grandmother, teacher, mentor etc. My strong wish would be to have known better a pre-35 y.o. you. I look forward to others sharing more stories of Nancy Scott Freeman Regalado Horwitz. We'll need it.
None of the Seasons are available to the same extent since your passing. However, in transition I find Nancy's Spirit already over my shoulder, whispering in my ear, appealing to my better natures, and cheering us all on as she has joined an integral part of the 'whom' that my life responds to - ancestors, pastors, and guide. Aunt Nancy, you were a guide. From the VW that had holes to watch the road. To a Brown bomber filled with comix, (and a roaring, needling back seat goon squad advocating for overpriced fudge). Trips that nearly drove Uncle Nat off to settling for a non highway exit - 'early exit.' You persisted. Use Full and Care Full.
You have the grittiness and tenacity of your forbearers. 'El Diablo ya tienes su reclaman que se les garantice un trato igualitario.' Yours is a grace that was witty, extreme in erudition, fit full in grace. You had an uncanny ability to 'know the room;' and, you worked it. Only you knew how to dance in whatever space you were found in. Yale and NYU grew better from your life-strong giftedness.
Whether you were tempering a city of violent hopelessness to become publicly gun shy; or, maintaining world relationships through dignified friendship; you have always practiced 'Love as the First Motion' - celebrating and noticing the gifts and magnificence of your children and family legacies. In dignity and integrity - you were a fast and noble friend and committed participant. Full Stop.
Nathan Shroyer — nephew