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Yale 62

Roger J. Stone

From Harry Ward we have news that Roger Stone, Class of ’62, passed away Feb. 14, 2023, at his home in Bondville, VT. He was cremated, and his ashes were scattered in the Winhall River, which ran behind his property, as were his wife’s
ashes (Marianne) who died about a month before Roger. He had two sons, Josh and Greg.

The nearest town is Manchester. There has been nothing in the Manchester Journal newspaper about his passing. Marianne’s obit is in the Manchester Journal, here.

Marianne’s obituary had the following information about her life with Roger:

Marianne Ross Stone was a passionate seamstress and an active force for goodness her whole life. She spent 20 years volunteering for The Thrifty Attic in Londonderry. She made the selfless decision 10 years ago to devote herself to caring for her husband Roger because of his increasing visual challenges. They loved to travel especially in the winter and got as far as New Zealand.

Harry reports the following memories from the bright college days:

“Roger lived in the same entry as I did in Saybrook. Toward the end of our junior year, we learned that the newest colleges (can’t remember their names) were far behind in construction, so Yale was forced to allow unmarried students to move off campus: something that in normal times was almost impossible to do. So four of us: Dick Bruning, John Crary, Roger and I rented a 4-bedroom house on Abigail street in Woodmont. The house was on Long Island Sound, so it had its own private beach. That community was largely for summer residents. The only other
occupied house on the street was next door, where a man and his retarded son lived.

“Looking back, how 4 unmarried Yale seniors, who lived in a house that had its own beach, and on a nearly deserted street, all graduated, is still amazing to me.”

Roger’s later years were spent in a quiet rural setting in Vermont that probably felt a world away from where he spent the first half of his life in suburban New York. In his essay in our class’s 25th Yearbook, when he lived in Hastings-on-Hudson, NY, he mused about the future:

“My Dad rode the train down the east side of Westchester for the last six years of his life. He was Yale 1927, and he died the year before I was accepted. I figured it was the commuter lifestyle that killed him rather than two packs of Camels a day and a bad heart. At least part of me must have recognized the dumbness of that idea so I got an MBA. Now my own boys are probably headed for Yale class of 1999 and 2000, and it’s fun to watch them grow and to try to figure out how to pay for all that.

“The view of the next twenty-five years looks just as unclear as the view of the first twenty-five did when we graduated. It will be interesting to see how they turn out.”

— Douglas “Tim” Hall