The other thing I remember is this: I could never understand how someone could get a doctorate in math. I have my degrees in Theology, and always felt that I didn’t need to know much more than how to count to three. I would ALWAYS pick on Jim, asking him “So, Jim, what’s new in math? Discover any new numbers lately? Perhaps something that goes between 7 and 8?”

When Mary called us with the news of Jim’s inexplicable death, we recalled these (and other) moments. She mentioned that my comments always made Jim go into a slow burn, but in a good way.

Although he and Mary were divorced, it seemed to me that they managed to put aside their differences when it came to Eamon (or, as I called him, Hey, Man!).

Thanks for the memories.
Moon

One summer I was lucky enough to be part of the “expedition” lead by Jim to Lake George. There he reminded us that we only need the sky above to be happy, to respect Mother Nature for all her beauty, and that everyone that comes to the Island (Turtle Island in my case) had to cook a meal to contribute to the clan. I will never forget Jim.

I love Jim, and from what I know of Jim, I believe he’s got a keg of Bass beer up stationed between himself and the stage where Jimi, Otis Redding, Jerry and many more are set to play in a few hours. His spirit will forever be with me, and I sincerely thank you, Jim for touching my life in such a tremendous way.

I love you Cosmo and I love you Jim! RIP Jim.

As a mathematician, Seamus was always in pursuit of certainty, so his attempts to penetrate the multiple myteries of Irish were often accompanied by his protest that “No, no, you don’t understand my question,” sometimes followed by, “Oh, well. That’s ok . . .” and a smile — as if to say, “I can’t expect you to grasp it.” In philosophical and political discussions, however, his sword wasn’t sheathed until the engagement was over. But here, too, the twinkle in his eye was his trademark. His other trademark was his unvarying attire — t-shirt, shorts and sandles, even in winter.

Seamus had loved his Greek, and quotes from the classics frequently came from his lips. He was generous, his word could be relied upon, and he was great fun.

Recently, a young actress asked for our help in coaching her in some Irish phrases required for her starring role in A Most Notorious Woman, a play at the Wooly Mammoth Theater in Washington. Seamus and I attended a performance, a 1-hour-plus affair, in which she acquitted herself with aplomb. We agreed that her future should be bright. She and her producer were kind enough to mention us in the program’s credits. So, if you should see the name of Rachel Manteuffel in lights sometime in the future, know that her career was touched by Seamus.

One night recently, he was telling us about his upcoming annual camping trip to Lake George. Then, days later, the news that left us all stunned.

Maybe it was Seamus’ insistence upon certainty that accounted for his unclamorous classification of himself as an atheist. With his wonderful good humor, I think Seamus wouldn’t mind my saying that I hope he has been pleasantly surprised.