The Memorial Wall

Thomas George Rocks, 82, born in Waynesboro, Pennsylvania on March 31st, 1942, the son of the late Hugh N. and Margaret M. Rocks, died on April 1, 2024, in Portland, Oregon, from complications of Parkinson’s disease.

Tom (Dad, Poppa, Tommy, Uncle Tom, Dr. Rocks), a vibrant, creative lover of people and community, will be fondly remembered for his dedication to all he put his heart into, including but not limited to his immediate family and large extended family including surviving siblings, Hugh F. Rocks, M. Angela Rocks Shriver and especially his twin sister, Mary C. Rocks, nieces and nephews, his parishes, many educational institutions (particularly Pennsylvania State University where he earned his doctorate degree in Counselor Education), his clients, fellow music and theatre folks, and the greater Waynesboro community.

During the two decades he resided in Portland, Oregon, he was an active member of St. Pius X Catholic church and a volunteer for St. Vincent de Paul Society. Most notably he sang in the church choir and directed the Sweetheart Cabaret for several of those years.

He was a member of the Portland Symphonic Choir from 2009-2015 when his Parkinson’s symptoms no longer allowed him to sing. At that time, he transitioned into both leading and participating in many Parkinson’s Resource programs and events.

Through all 22 years, Tom was a very involved grandfather to Julia Katherine Connolly, Alexander William Connolly, and Fenn Thomas Connolly.

It would be impossible to enumerate the many organizations, activities and leadership roles Tom participated in during the 60 years prior to moving to Portland. Some highlights he will be remembered for are: St. Andrew’s Catholic Church member, his career with the Waynesboro Area School district where he was director of the All-school student and teacher theatrical productions. He was a committee leader of Waynesboro Summer Jubilee, a member of a barbershop quartet “Four the Good Times,” a weekly contributor of “Family Matters” column to the Record Herald newspaper and myriad more community service projects.

Tom approached all people with an open mind, open heart and open arms. He touched many with his empathic words and warm hugs. He often noted that “it’s not what you get from other people; it’s what you can give to them.”

Tom was preceded in death by his son Matthew Thomas, and his sisters Ellen Mary Rocks Fulton and Margaret Elizabeth Rocks Camilletti Bosold.

Doctor Edward Nelson Smolar, 80, died on March 30, 2024. The cause of his death relates to complications from Parkinson’s Disease. Dr. Smolar, born and raised in Brooklyn and a 44-year resident of Boca Raton, worked as a medical doctor for more than 50 years in New York City and South Florida, specializing in Endocrinology and Internal Medicine. After earning a Bachelor of Science in biological science, with honors, at Union College in 1964, Dr. Smolar completed a Doctor of Medicine at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine at Yeshiva University in 1968. A true Renaissance man, he achieved a Master of Business Administration and a Master of Science from Nova Southeastern University in 1985 and 1990, respectively. Dr. Smolar was board-certified in internal medicine, endocrinology and metabolism, and geriatric medicine. He was also a chartered life underwriter, chartered financial consultant and a certified financial planner.

Dr. Smolar dedicated himself to a life of learning and serving others. Recognized in the medical community as a master diagnostician, Dr. Smolar – revered by his patients and colleagues as “the Midnight Cowboy” – was known for keeping late hours and taking as much time as needed with his patients, often at the expense of his schedule. Dr. Smolar served his country on behalf of the U.S Public Health Service as a surgeon between 1968 and 1971; honorably discharged with the rank of Lieutenant Commander. His research has been published in various medical journals; he was named by Research Council of America as one of America’s Top Doctors, and he has been cited in approximately 20 editions of Marquis Who’s Who, including Who’s Who in America, Who’s Who in Medicine and Healthcare, and Who’s Who in the World.

In addition to his medical practice, Dr. Smolar enjoyed teaching, including as an adjunct professor of medicine at the State University of New York, the University of Miami and Nova Southeastern College of Osteopathic Medicine. His hobbies included studying history and competitive ballroom dancing.

Dr. Smolar is survived by his wife of 50 years, Sharon Smolar, his sons, Todd and Gregory, his daughters-in-law, Jennifer and Roben, and his grandchildren, Jocey, Joshua, Gabriel and Daniella.

BLUE HILL, MAINE—Christopher B. Nelson died on March 28, 2024, from advanced Parkinson’s disease.

Chris was born in Winchester, Mass., on June 16, 1936, the son of John and Kathleen Nelson. He grew up in Quincy and went on to earn a bachelor of science in electrical engineering from MIT in 1958. Young daughters of his family’s friends set him up with his future wife, Roberta “Bobbie” Martin. She was the love of his life, and they married in June of 1960.

Chris retired in 2001 after 36 years of service with the federal government, first at the Lexington Lab (HHS), and then with the newly established EPA in Washington, D.C. In its Department of Radiation Programming, he was an expert in modeling radioisotope transport and estimating radiation dose and risk from exposure. His work provided an important basis for EPA’s radiation protection regulations and their guidance to other agencies and the public. In addition to his own work, he was an integral part of Bobbie’s ministry, from co-writing curricula to teaching Sunday school.

In 2001 he and Bobbie built their dream home on the Bagaduce River. Chris volunteered at the Sedgwick Elementary School, tutoring students in math and listening to them read. He sang with the Bagaduce Chorale for many years and served as their treasurer for several years. He was an active participant in town meetings.

Chris enjoyed sailing, kayaking, traveling, reading and keeping up with the news. He and his wife were lifelong proponents of social justice.

In 2015 he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s. As the disease progressed, he moved to Parker Ridge Assisted Living where he received wonderful care and support from the staff.

Chris was predeceased by his wife of 54 years and is survived by their daughters Heather of Surry, Maine, Jennifer of Portland, Maine, Joy and her husband John Saams of Gambrills, Md.; their three grandchildren: Jack Saams and his wife Margaret Zelenski, James Saams and his wife Franki Wilson, and Julia Saams of Md.; and his brother John Nelson and his wife Irene of Amherst, Mass. He was predeceased by his brothers Peter and Mark.

Donald N. Bersoff, 85, of Philadelphia, law school professor emeritus at Villanova and Drexel Universities, groundbreaking lawyer and psychologist, author, consultant, mentor, volunteer, and veteran, died Tuesday, March 26, of complications from Parkinson’s disease at his home in Center City.

A renowned expert in criminal and mental health law, professional ethics in psychology, and how they interact, Dr. Bersoff was director of the innovative joint law and psychology program at Villanova and Hahnemann Universities from 1990 to 2001. He taught students, colleagues, and others how to navigate conflicts between law and psychology, and conducted pioneering research in the law’s overall application to all behavioral sciences.

He returned to the program in 2007, after Hahnemann merged with Drexel, as director of the graduate program in law and psychology at what is now Drexel’s Thomas R. Kline School of Law. He became a visiting professor in 2012.

Dr. Bersoff championed legal and mental health services for all, diversity in law and psychology graduate programs, and robust international collaboration among lawyers and psychologists. “He educated us all to the importance of the interaction of the two fields,” a former colleague said in an online tribute. “He contributed greatly to the field and moved it forward.“

A former student who became a colleague said in a tribute: “An entire generation of law-psychology scholars, researchers, and practitioners owes their professional lives to you.” His wife, Deborah Leavy, said: “He was brilliant.”

Earlier, from 1976 to 1986, Dr. Bersoff was coordinator of the joint law and psychology program at the University of Maryland School of Law and Johns Hopkins Department of Psychology. He was inspired to focus his attention on both law and psychology after seeing legal and ethical problems in unfair public school student placement policies while teaching psychology at Ohio State University and the University of Georgia in the 1970s.

So he earned his law degree at Yale University in 1976 and began investigating the intersection of law and psychology. He represented the rights of women, racial minorities, and people with intellectual disabilities as an appellant lawyer and partner at two Washington law firms in the 1980s, and was president, general counsel, and lifetime member of the American Psychological Association.

He also taught at Mansfield State University in north central Pennsylvania and held workshops at many schools across the country. Former students said he was their “shining star” and “father figure.”

He authored the best-selling textbook Ethical Conflicts in Psychology and contributed book chapters and more than 100 articles to scholarly journals. He also wrote or contributed to more than 50 briefs to the Supreme Court and other courts regarding privacy rights, women’s and adolescents’ reproductive rights, and other issues.

He was quoted often in The Inquirer and other publications, and appeared on CBS, CNN, NPR, and other TV outlets. He served on many boards, committees, commissions, and panels, and was active with the National Academy of Sciences, American Civil Liberties Union, and other groups.

He was a consultant, lecturer, and expert witness in court cases, and he won awards from the American Psychological Association, Pennsylvania Psychological Association, and other organizations. He also was a captain and clinical psychologist in the Air Force in Texas and the Philippines from 1965 to 1968. “He remains my role model,” a former student said.

Born March 1, 1939, in New York, Donald Neil Bersoff graduated from the prestigious Stuyvesant High School at 15 and went straight to nearby New York University. He earned a bachelor’s degree in English education in 1958, a master’s degree in educational psychology in 1960, and a doctorate in school psychology in 1965.

He married Janice Daniels, and they had son David and daughter Judith. They divorced, and he remarried, and then divorced.

He met Leavy at a party in Washington in 1987, and she thought he was handsome and funny. They married in 1988, and had son Benjamin, and lived in Washington, Haverford, Radnor, and Philadelphia.

Dr. Bersoff played tennis and golf, and enjoyed interesting conversation and watching sports and shows on TV. “He was thoughtful and gentle,” a friend said in an online tribute. Another said that he “was a good and kind person.”

Robert Moskowitz, a painter who used the New York City skyline to stake out a unique position on the border of abstraction and representation, died on Sunday in Manhattan. He was 88.

His son, Erik Moskowitz, said the cause of death, at a hospital, was complications of Parkinson’s disease.

Mr. Moskowitz first came to broad notice with collagelike paintings in which he glued window shades to canvases that had been painted various shades of off-white. Some of these works, which evoke stripped-down Rauschenbergs, were exhibited in the 1961 Museum of Modern Art show “The Art of Assemblage.” He later made a series of similar collages with envelopes.

From the mid-1960s into the ’70s, after an interlude painting Surreal interiors, Mr. Moskowitz settled on views of empty corners, which again flirted with the limits of legibility — they were usually one color, sometimes even black on black.

He also experimented with shapes that were easily recognized but of ambiguous status, like a smiley face or a white swastika on a black background; made a pastel version of Piet Mondrian’s own very minimal “Red Mill,” as well as an oil paint version in black; riffed on Rodin, Giacometti and a 2,500-year-old fresco known as “Tomb of the Diver” in Paestum, Italy; and painted a peculiar view of the Wrigley Building in Chicago, inspired by a souvenir matchbook, in which the building’s two white towers seem to be falling through space.

Even at their most high-concept or severe, though, Mr. Moskowitz’s paintings were always more expressive than he let on. However flat and endless a given field of brown or yellow might be, the works were always constructed with vibrant brushwork and a kind of quiet glee at odds with his stark aesthetic. Mr. Moskowitz’s gallery, Peter Freeman, Inc., which had just begun to represent him and opened their first show with him shortly before he died, called him, in a statement, “a rare bridge between Abstract Expressionism and Minimalism.”

Beginning in the late 1970s, Mr. Moskowitz began painting the Empire State Building, the Flatiron Building and, most indelibly, the World Trade Center. Those three buildings appear over and over through the decades, in black on blue, lavender, orange, yellow or white; in white on black; surrounded by smudgy fingerprints or plumes of smoke; naked in fields of color; rendered in oil, ink, graphite or pastel.

They all had the shimmering, self-contained quality of letters or numbers. But the distinctive crenelated spire of the Empire State, at once ornament and monument, was impossible not to recognize. Two little bumps for cornices made the simple shape of the Flatiron equally unmistakable, while also adding a disorienting uncertainty to its scale.

It was in the imposing modernist stripes of the Twin Towers that Mr. Moskowitz found his great subject. Whether appearing as two black bars huddled in the corner of a modest sheet of drawing paper or rearing up as bold red dashes 10 feet high, the towers seemed to transcend the usual distinctions among genres of art, even among genres of mark making. (It’s worth noting that among drawings called “Flatiron” or “Empire State,” the Twin Towers pieces are invariably called just “Skyscraper.”) The towers were a specific architectural reference that didn’t look specific at all, a forceful abstract pattern with the subtlest of concessions to perspective, a taut graphic device that hit the eye like a logo — a logo for nothing but itself.

After the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, these works took on a darker resonance, and Mr. Moskowitz, whose TriBeCa loft was only a few blocks from the towers, regretfully moved on to other motifs.

“Now the images seem unbearably grim,” he told The San Antonio Express-News in 2007, when he showed some of his paintings in the San Antonio area. But, he added, “I was always happy when I was painting them.”

Robert Stephen Moskowitz was born on June 20, 1935, in Brooklyn to Louis Moskowitz, who owned two dry-cleaning shops, and Lily (Sandman) Moskowitz, who managed the home. His father left the family in 1948. His mother periodically disappeared, too, leaving Robert to look after his younger sister. He recalled constant financial insecurity and, starting in high school, taking various jobs, both part and full time, to make ends meet, like working at a Woolworth’s soda counter and selling socks.

He never considered college, but his older sister worked for an engineering firm and he had always liked drawing, so he attended the Mechanics Institute in Manhattan to learn to be a draftsman. In 1954, he got a job at Sperry Gyroscope in Lake Success, N.Y., the former site of the United Nations, on Long Island. Sperry paid for him to study graphic design at the Pratt Institute, where classes with the artists Robert Richenburg and Adolph Gottlieb changed the course of his life. Soon he was visiting museums, renting a studio and quitting his job.

In 1959, Mr. Moskowitz traveled to London, intending to continue on to Paris and stay there until his money ran out. Instead, he found a studio in a decrepit artists’ community north of London. There, he began making collages. One day, as the curator Ned Rifkin recounted in a catalog essay, Mr. Moskowitz noticed a window shade with “a lot of character and history.” He glued it to a canvas and painted over it.

After he returned to New York, he met and married the painter Hermine Ford, whose father, the painter Jack Tworkov, became a friend and supporter. In the mid-1970s, Mr. Moskowitz and Ms. Ford began traveling to Nova Scotia, where they joined a community of artists that included Joan Jonas, Philip Glass, Richard Serra and Robert Frank. They eventually bought a house and divided their time between the islands of Cape Breton and Manhattan.

In 1962, just after the MoMA assemblage show, Mr. Moskowitz had a sold-out solo exhibition with the influential dealer Leo Castelli — but Mr. Castelli didn’t like the direction Mr. Moskowitz’s work was taking, and they parted ways soon after.

Mr. Moskowitz received fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the National Endowment for the Arts and exhibited in biennials and at numerous museums, including the Whitney in New York, which included him in its influential 1978 show “New Image Painting,” and the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden in Washington, which mounted a retrospective in 1989 that traveled to MoMA.

In addition to his son, Erik, an artist and filmmaker who collaborates with his wife, Amanda Trager, Mr. Moskowitz is survived by his wife, Ms. Ford; and his sisters, Elaine and Karen Moskowitz.

During long periods when painting brought in no money, Mr. Moskowitz taught at the Maryland Institute College of Art, in Baltimore, and the Yale Norfolk School of Art, in Litchfield County, Conn.; assisted the photographer Walker Evans, who was a friend of Mr. Tworkov’s; stretched canvases for other artists; and took up other odd jobs.

For Mr. Moskowitz, the one consistent through line, in a career of drastic stylistic changes and unusually dramatic ups and downs, was his devotion to his artmaking.

“All he did was paint,” the sculptor John Newman, a longtime friend, said in a phone interview. “It’s all he wanted to do. And when he couldn’t paint, he drove a cab, so he could paint some more.”

Author David Brin announced that Vernor Vinge, sci-fi author, former professor, and father of the technological singularity concept, died from Parkinson's disease at age 79 on March 20, 2024, in La Jolla, California. The announcement came in a Facebook tribute where Brin wrote about Vinge's deep love for science and writing.

"A titan in the literary genre that explores a limitless range of potential destinies, Vernor enthralled millions with tales of plausible tomorrows, made all the more vivid by his polymath masteries of language, drama, characters, and the implications of science," wrote Brin in his post.

As a sci-fi author, Vinge won Hugo Awards for his novels A Fire Upon the Deep (1993), A Deepness in the Sky (2000), and Rainbows End (2007). He also won Hugos for novellas Fast Times at Fairmont High (2002) and The Cookie Monster (2004). As Mike Glyer's File 770 blog notes, Vinge's novella True Names (1981) is frequency cited as the first presentation of an in-depth look at the concept of "cyberspace."

Vinge first coined the term "singularity" as related to technology in 1983, borrowed from the concept of a singularity in spacetime in physics. When discussing the creation of intelligences far greater than our own in an 1983 op-ed in OMNI magazine, Vinge wrote, "When this happens, human history will have reached a kind of singularity, an intellectual transition as impenetrable as the knotted space-time at the center of a black hole, and the world will pass far beyond our understanding."

In 1993, he expanded on the idea in an essay titled The Coming Technological Singularity: How to Survive in the Post-Human Era.

The singularity concept postulates that AI will soon become superintelligent, far surpassing humans in capability and bringing the human-dominated era to a close. While the concept of a tech singularity sometimes inspires negativity and fear, Vinge remained optimistic about humanity's technological future, as Brin notes in his tribute: "Accused by some of a grievous sin—that of 'optimism'—Vernor gave us peerless legends that often depicted human success at overcoming problems... those right in front of us... while posing new ones! New dilemmas that may lie just ahead of our myopic gaze. He would often ask: 'What if we succeed? Do you think that will be the end of it?'"

Vinge's concept heavily influenced futurist Ray Kurzweil, who has written about the singularity several times at length in books such as The Singularity Is Near in 2005. In a 2005 interview with the Center for Responsible Nanotechnology website, Kurzweil said, "Vernor Vinge has had some really key insights into the singularity very early on. There were others, such as John Von Neuman, who talked about a singular event occurring, because he had the idea of technological acceleration and singularity half a century ago. But it was simply a casual comment, and Vinge worked out some of the key ideas."

Kurzweil's works, in turn, have been influential to employees of AI companies such as OpenAI, who are actively working to bring superintelligent AI into reality. There is currently a great deal of debate over whether the approach of scaling large language models with more compute will lead to superintelligence over time, but the sci-fi influence looms large over this generation's AI researchers.

British magazine New Worlds published Vinge's first short story, Apartness, in 1965. He studied computer science and received a PhD in 1971. Vinge was also a retired professor of computer science at San Diego State University, where he taught between 1972 and 2000.

Brin reports that, near the end of his life, Vinge had been under care for years for progressive Parkinson's disease "at a very nice place overlooking the Pacific in La Jolla." According to Vinge's fellow San Diego State professor John Carroll, "his decline had steepened since November, but [he] was relatively comfortable."

Fran Drescher’s dad, Morty Drescher, died at age 94 on March 20.

Fran, 66, reacted to the loss in a statement shared with Us Weekly via her rep one week later.

“My beloved father Morty passed away gently in his sleep in the early hours of Mar 20th surrounded by my mother and I. Although he was 94.5, it still feels untenable how permanent the loss of this great man is,” the Nanny star began.

Fran went on to speak at length about her father’s admirable qualities.

“His values were always in the right place. He honored and respected everyone equally. He understood the important things in this life, love of family, simple pleasures and living in gratitude. He passed these values onto his children and lived an exemplary life,” she wrote. “Always, the life of the party, he was funny and smart. Known within our circles of family and friends to always recite Casey At The Bat, one of his favorite poems.”

The actress also mentioned some of her father’s interests, which included swimming and “sports of all kinds,” and praised him for being a good friend, husband and father.

He was a good friend to many people both at work and within his community. He was an amazing father who taught my sister [Nadine Drescher] and I to swim, ride a bicycle and drive a car. He was the best husband to my mom [Sylvia Drescher] and remained madly in love with her until his last breath,” she wrote.

In the wake of her father’s death, Fran skipped the New York Women in Film & Television’s 44th annual Muse Awards for Vision and Achievement on Wednesday, March 27, where she was slated to accept an award. One of her SAG-AFTRA colleagues accepted the honor on Fran’s behalf, with the star sending a message honoring Morty and apologizing for her absence.

Fran, who has been President of SAG-AFTRA since 2021, credits her father with the skills she used while presiding over negotiations during the union’s historic months-long strike last year.

“[My dad was] a systems analyst, I inherited his analytical mind which I referenced throughout my leadership as sag-aftra president, especially during the strike,” she said in her statement. “I am so happy he got to see me not only achieve success as an actor but even more important as a labor leader because doing volunteer work on behalf of the greater good was the ethics by which he raised me.”

Fran, who noted that Morty was “very proud of both of his daughters’ accomplishments”, concluded the statement: “If there is a heaven, he’s there now because he lived purely, honestly and lovingly.”

The comedian previously spoke about her father’s battle with Parkinson’s Disease during a December 2023 essay for The Daily Beast.

“[He] has gone from once being a white-collar systems analyst and very athletic to, at 94, now being an invalid, barely able to transfer from bed to wheelchair or take a brief supervised walk with his walker,” she wrote.

Fran then praised her mom, Sylvia, 89, for taking such good care of Morty.

“Without question, the only reason he is still alive and has quality of life is because of my mother’s commitment to preserving that quality of life,” she penned. “When he remembers something that she can’t, she praises him profusely on how smart he is. That’s what she was most attracted to about him.”

Fran has also been open about how cannabis helped her father cope with the chronic degenerative disorder.

“He went from having that expressionless look that Parkinson’s patients often get where it’s kind of a dull life, to a positive reaction within seconds upon using cannabis,” she said during a 2018 interview with Forbes. “His whole face became animated, his voice became strong, his eyes opened up, and my dad was back to being himself.”

Morty made several appearances on The Nanny over the years, portraying both Fran’s fictional father, Morty Fine, and Fran’s uncle Stanley Fine. He also appeared on two episodes of the WB sitcom Living With Fran in 2005.

More recently, Morty participated in the 2020 REELZ television special Fran Drescher: In My Own Words alongside Sylvia.

“My mom’s in her eighties, my dad just turned 90. I asked for all the footage because [they were interviewed] for hours. To have that for posterity, that alone was worth doing it,” Fran told TV Insider in 2020 of her parents’ participation in the film.

The longtime director of Amarillo Little Theatre died after a battle with Parkinson's disease.

Allen Shankles passed away peacefully in his sleep Tuesday night.

He was 66-years-old.

Shankles was the Managing/Artistic Director of Amarillo Little Theatre for 38 years.

According to ALT's website, he directed hundreds of shows before retiring in 2021 due to declining health.

"Allen is THE reason ALT still exists with his brilliant visionary directing of 38 years and his dedication to our community," said ALT on Facebook. "Allen established ALT as the leading community theatre in our nation and we are forever grateful for the legacy he has left."

Ralph Burnet — who founded from scratch a powerhouse Minnesota real estate company that's helped transform the way people buy and sell houses — died Tuesday in Minneapolis at age 78.

For sale signs with BURNET stripped across them made his name synonymous with real estate in the area, but he was no less renowned for his boundless enthusiasm for sports and modern art.

"He was truly one of the brightest guys during his tenure running a brokerage company. ... He was also the only guy in the industry to underwrite a corporate golf outing, the CBB Senior Classic," said Steve Murray of RTC Consulting, a national brokerage expert. "From the late 70s to 80s and 90s and 2000s, he was very much a part of everything going on here."

Burnet, born in Pittsburgh but who grew up in the Twin Cities, didn't set out to be a real estate mogul. In his 20s, he co-owned a ski shop at 50th and France. The trajectory of his life — and real estate in the Twin Cities — changed in 1968 when the owner of a real estate office across the street, who also happened to be his former Little League Coach, hired him to sell houses.

Burnet caught the real estate bug in a big way. He wanted to do more than work with buyers and sellers: He wanted to build a business, and he wanted to be No. 1. In 1973, he and Dar Reedy opened their own real estate office, which ballooned from a small group of seven agents to thousands, making it one of most storied companies in the industry and one of the biggest brokerages in the nation.

"He was a huge risk taker," said Patti Napier, a Twin Cities agent for what's now known as Coldwell Banker Realty and the last of those initial seven. "He operated out of the box."

Napier said Burnet's personal and professional mantra revolved around embracing growth, change and fun, whether in the office or on the links.

That philosophy and a willingness to challenge the status quo inspired Burnet to embrace new business models. In the fledgling days of the company, most real estate competitors focused solely on buying and selling houses. Burnet saw an opportunity to add convenience — and boost profits — by offering buyers and sellers easy access to affiliated services including title, mortgage and insurance.

Burnet was especially successful at creating a relocation services division that enabled the company to tap into the lucrative world of corporate relocations, something that wasn't routinely done in the days before the World Web and online listing services.

"He was one of the pioneers of mortgage and title services. He was certainly one of the first to really integrate it within his brokerage and to figure that out," said Murray of the rapidly changing industry at the time.

Barely a decade after starting the company, its stratospheric growth and reputation for innovation caught the attention of Merrill Lynch, which bought the company and lured Burnet to Connecticut to run the business.

The company passed through the hands of Merrill Lynch to Prudential, but in 1990, it was back to Burnet and Reed, who bought the company back. That deal included First Security Title, which became a wholly owned subsidiary of Burnet Realty. But by the 1990s, in a move intended to convey the message the company does more than sell houses, Burnet Realty became Burnet Financial Group, which included a move into the insurance business. Its other companies included Great Lakes Mortgage, Burnet Relocation Management, Distinctive Homes Division, Burnet New Homes Division and the new Burnet Insurance.

At the time, Burnet, who was chairman and chief executive officer, said renaming the company "better reflects what we are as a whole company and where we are headed."

Burnet was known for his eye-catching and sometimes over-the-top marketing campaigns as well as for tackling projects — like a home improvement business — that didn't thrive. He was fiercely competitive, going toe-to-toe and listing-to-listing against a handful of other homegrown brokerages, including Edina Realty.

"He was absolutely willing to fail and learn from it," said Napier, who ran the relocation business and reported directly to Burnet for a time.

In 1998, the company sold again, this time to NRT with another new name: Coldwell Banker Burnet. And in early 2000, as part of a corporate reshuffle, Robin Peterson, who started working for Burnet in 1977, became president of Coldwell Banker Burnet Home Services.

Peterson said Burnet was especially adept at cultivating talent and encouraging people to succeed.

"The most important thing when you met him was that you knew he cared about you and your growth and where you wanted to go in life and business," she said. "The two were intertwined."

Matt Baker agreed. He said Burnet was both a friend and mentor. Baker started selling real estate for the company decades ago but eventually became its president.

"Ralph was intense and emphatic and had a fair amount of irreverence, but he didn't have much pretense. And there was only speed with Ralph. He brought great things to the Twin Cities," he said. "He had a plan and vision to be No. 1, and when you walked out of [his office], you were thinking, 'I want to be part of this.'"

Real estate wasn't his only personal or professional (usually both) passion. Burnet was a Timberwolves minority owner and is credited with bringing pro golf to Minnesota in the 1990s. He hosted several major golf and tennis tournaments, brought world-class professionals to the Twin Cities and was known as an expressive player.

"He wasn't a hack at golf," Napier said. "He was always animated on the course, and you always knew if there was a bad shot."

After his brokerage days, Burnet focused on other real estate challenges, including a multi-year transformation of a neglected building on Hennepin Avenue in downtown Minneapolis into the art-centric Chambers Hotel. And in 2007, he led the conversion of the historic Foshay Tower into the W Minneapolis Hotel.

"As busy as he was, he made all the time in the world for us," said his son, Ryan. "He was my baseball coach and my hockey coach. He was involved in every single one of my tennis matches."

Ryan Burnet said despite his business interests and his passion for skiing, sailing and so many other sports, his father seemed to have boundless energy.

"He was able to pivot quickly whether he was able to work on an acquisition of a company, but he showed up for everything," Burnet said. "He had such an impact not only me but on a lot of my close friends. He was like a second father and role model. He was someone whose personality just lit up the room."

Ralph Burnet's wife Peggy, two daughters and eight grandchildren also survive him.

Private family services will be held for Louis “Lou” Florimonte who passed away on March 18th, he was 86 years old.Lou was born in Old Forge, Pennsylvania, to Italian American parents. Lou was not yet five when his father died, plunging his family into poverty and hardship during the years of WWII. The middle of three boys, he developed resourcefulness and courage to forge ahead despite uncertainty. Following his graduation from High School in 1955, he joined the Air Force and became a trainer in missile guidance systems until his discharge in 1959. Lou then worked in a sink manufacturing company before attending college at Pennsylvania State University.

In 1968 he met his future wife, Alexandra Kissinger, in a theater workshop and after one date, they were married outdoors, streamside, in Fisherman’s Paradise, Pennsylvania.While at PSU studying Journalism, he wrote several well-received plays, which inspired him to change his focus to writing. He earned a BA in Broadcast Journalism and an MA in theater. During this time, Lou and Alex also had two boys, Arik and Cory. Becoming a father was one of the most cherished roles Lou took on and he tried to give to his children all that had been lacking in his own life.

Lou worked at the television station WPSX at Penn State for several years, writing, directing, and producing, but without the creative freedom he sought.So, in 1972, drawn by the opportunity to develop his own program, he took a teaching position at the Lindenwood Colleges in St. Charles, Missouri, where he served as head of the theater program and chairman of Communications Arts. During that time, several of his plays were produced off-off Broadway and in other cities.

In 1977 he moved his family to Valencia, California where he earned an MFA at the California Institute of the Arts. In 1979 he was invited to teach at CalArts in the Theater School and in 1984 co-founded the Directing for Theater, Video and Cinema program with Alexander MacKendrick and Gill Dennis. Lou was program head from 1994 until his retirement.

Lou was a beloved teacher and mentor. He truly enjoyed working with students, valuing their energy and fresh ideas, and he would often see more in a student’s work than the student would ever recognize themselves. He rigorously imparted the rules and traditions of filmmaking, in part to prepare his students to understand when to break them. He was continually learning from his students as well: while he held strong opinions about storytelling technique and would challenge his students intellectually, he would freely admit when a student’s idea was better. His students went on to make art that spoke authentically and beautifully, and Lou remained close to many of them long after his retirement.

Lou gave profoundly of himself to his family, his students, and all those he loved. He would turn the whole of his attention and empathy on you without judgment. It didn’t matter what led to the problem, he had a knack for helping you to clarify it and find a way forward.Lou and Alex kept a welcoming home and drew many people into their lives, creating a dynamic community of extended family and friends who felt like family. They’d often look after nieces and nephews for a week at a time while their parents traveled. And as friends of his sons would attest, their house was often a late-night hub where teenagers could drop in and still feel rebellious and adventuresome, while in reality remaining safe and well-fed.Lou was an avid cook, particularly of Italian cuisine. He prepared huge feasts, frequently inviting students over for parties, or hosting Italian Christmas dinners with seven fishes, and even a 150-person lasagna banquet for Arik’s track team (after being volunteered without his knowledge). But his generosity and culinary expertise also combined in small moments. Anyone arriving at Lou’s home at any hour with even a hint of hunger would soon be served a steaming plate of linguini with clams, or a pizza with homemade dough he just happened to have on hand. Lou was an operatic cook, and usually turned the kitchen into a dramatic whirlwind of barely contained chaos.

In 2005 he retired from CalArts and he and Alex moved to Denver to be near Alex’s father and their lifelong friends Ed and Sallie Baierlein. Lou loved golfing with Ed, helping in Ed’s theater, and hosting many who came to visit. Lou and Alex traveled four times to Italy, exploring it together from north to south and visiting the ancestral hometowns of Lou’s father and mother. He particularly enjoyed taking pasta-making classes in Bologna and meeting up with his sons and their families at various points. After Alex’s father passed away in 2011 and Lou was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease, they moved to Santa Cruz, California, to be closer to family, including their new grandson, Shane.Lou doted on his grandson. He often spoke of feeling like a child inside, which was evident as he wrestled and invented silly games with Shane when he was little. Later, Lou attended Shane’s little league games, and they made pasta and sausage and went fishing together. He wrote a delightful trilogy of books for Shane, about a boy named Petey who is visited by a rebellious alien named Buzz. Lou was especially thrilled with Shane’s interest in film and storytelling, although he restrained himself, citing his teaching mantra “no information before need.” But his excitement was tangible as he began to mentor Shane’s growing interest in filmmaking.

Lou’s love of writing and cooking continued throughout his life, even though Parkinson’s disease made these pursuits progressively more difficult. He worked on his memoirs, and often helped former students with their projects. He continued cooking for his family bread, pasta, and Italian desserts even in the last months of his life. And he took up new hobbies such as acrylic painting and creating garden art. He faced the challenges of Parkinson’s with courage, grace, and defiance, sup- ported by Alex’s love and her generous, meticulous care- giving.In February he was diagnosed with metastatic cancer and chose not to pursue invasive treatments, his death following one month later.

Lou lived his whole life with courage, intentionality, and love. Perhaps it was these qualities that allowed him to live even the challenging final years of his life with such fortitude.Lou left this world better than he found it in every way that matters, and his family remembers him with an abundance of gratitude. Alex cherishes the memories of golden afternoons in Italy’s piazzas and the many road trips they took. Arik and Cory carry on Lou’s creativity, sense of humor, and confidence in taking on difficult challenges. Shane is inspired to continue his storytelling legacy. His daughters-in-law, Claire and Cynthia, have thrived in the light of his unconditional love. Lou is also survived by his brother Joseph Florimonte, brother-in-law David Kissinger, and many cousins, nieces, nephews, and dear friends.Preceding him in death were his father, Louis Florimonte Sr, his mother, Anna (DiNardo) Mancini, stepfather Rocco Mancini, brother Ralph Florimonte, sister Angela (Mancini) Maizie, stepbrother Vincent Mancini, and his niece Laura (Florimonte) Navarette.