John was one of the first people I met at Middlebury College, 42 years ago this fall. Our friendship was immediate and at first maybe a little improbable: I was the girl from NYC, he was the boy from Boston, and from the start we had a lively repartee about Red Sox vs Yankees, Bruins vs Rangers; I also suffered from his frequent teasing about my grandmother's vintage fur coat -- he called it "the Rat" -- that I wore around campus with my LL Bean boots. But we settled into great friend rhythms very quickly. John was fun-loving, brilliant, generous, irreverent, quirky, and utterly charismatic, with a twinkle in his eye and an intensity that drew everyone to him. Our college years with our "gang" (people, you know who you are) to this day remain among the happiest times of my life, and John was central to so many of those memories. During senior year, John and I were off-campus housemates, along with our dear friend Melissa, and I will forever treasure the dance parties, happy hours, and impromptu late- night conversations about life, philosophy (his major,) music, and all those things 21 year olds talk about so earnestly. Later as "grown-ups" we found we had more in common: that we were each the parents of beloved daughters. Nothing animated John more than talking about his Zoe and Phoebe -- you could literally see him grinning through the phone wires as he spoke about them -- and how I loved our check-ins as our four girls grew and hit their various milestones. It was lucky for me that Zoe and Phoebe chose to come to NYU for college, which meant I got to see him a little more on his forays down here for daughter check-ins and the quest for that perfect bolognese and burrata. John's passions and generosity were infectious: whether for travel (and we both shared a love for Italy and anything Italian); good food and wine; bringing people together, he made everyone feel at home in the world he created. Mamma Maria, his masterpiece, to this day remains one of my favorite restaurants anywhere. The care and attention to the food, wine, decor, flowers, staffing, ambience: it was rare and priceless, an exquisite and singular dining experience that was always infused with love. In a world that is often chaotic and noisy, that he created such a place of beauty is a remarkable legacy. It is truly unfathomable to me that John is gone, and that I will never hear him call me "Lizzie-babes" with that smile in his voice and crinkle of his eyes. I loved him very much. But I also know his energy and fun and generosity will live on in the people he touched, and especially in his remarkable daughters. We all need to try to pass that on, in honor of John. I'm pretty sure I will miss him forever.