Obituary of Joseph Pequigney

The riches that Joe added to my life shines above the loss which is great. Joe remains joy married to keen intellect. He was energy and discernment. My memories and love warm me even now as we all mourn.

Dear Joe. Every time I arrived from Paris we would have a long and extended talk about politics befor moving on to books, philosophy and art. You could never think of Joe without Steven without Joe. Joe, my friend.

Uncle Bubba, it was a blessed day the day Steve (your nephew), introduced me to you and Stevven. What a spark you both added to our lives.
Your adventures in Italy are what inspired us to go. Thank you for your love, intellect, and kindness.
I love your dedication to Steven in Such is Love
"be most proud of that which I compile, whose influence is thine and born of thee"
Love you Uncle Bubba

I knew Joe my whole life and it's been all the richer. Feeling lucky, and sad, and grateful. All my love to Steven and Cathy and extended family.

For upwards of twenty years, Joe and I shared the drive from our Greenwich Village apartments to our offices and classrooms at Stony Brook, and back again many hours later. I drove, Joe talked, I answered, he counter-answered, and so it went through the Midtown Tunnel, the LIE, Northern State Parkway, and any number of local roads. I doubt there is any significant text in 16th, 17th, or 18th century English literature that we didn't hammer out not to mention frequent excursions into Dante's Commedia, which we both loved, and even more frequent deplorings of New York and national politics. To say we were friends and colleagues is understatement, and I sorely missed those dialogic drives when Joe retired some years before me. They will always be my characteristic memories of Joe -- him speaking with quiet passion about a Shakespeare sonnet, while I swerved frantically around a suddenly stopped truck in the middle lane of the Long Island Expressway. That particular image says a great deal to me, and I treasure it. Goodbye, Joe.

For upwards of twenty years, Joe and I shared the drive from our Greenwich Village apartments to our offices and classrooms at Stony Brook, and back again many hours later. I drove, Joe talked, I answered, he counter-answered, and so it went through the Midtown Tunnel, the LIE, Northern State Parkway, and any number of local roads. I doubt there is any significant text in 16th, 17th, or 18th century English literature that we didn't hammer out not to mention frequent excursions into Dante's Commedia, which we both loved, and even more frequent deplorings of New York and national politics. To say we were friends and colleagues is understatement, and I sorely missed those dialogic drives when Joe retired some years before me. They will always be my characteristic memories of Joe -- him speaking with quiet passion about a Shakespeare sonnet, while I swerved frantically around a suddenly stopped truck in the middle lane of the Long Island Expressway. That particular image says a great deal to me, and I treasure it. Goodbye, Joe.

I am still processing the loss of our Joe, that massive intellect, gifted teacher, unparalleled mentor, subtle humorist, generous colleague, gracious gentleman, wise, joyful, and loving friend. We discussed politics, literature, history, family, travel, philosophy, and our personal and professional lives, he with unrelenting passion and selfless concern. He was a once-in-a-lifetime friend who, when he believes in you, causes you to believe in yourself. How do you say good-bye to that?

Oh Joe, how can it be that you are gone? You were always present, through all those years, from the time I met you, shortly after I had started my first teaching position, in a large group of recently graduated Harvard English professors meeting cheerfully every other week in Cambridge. You were always present, through all my other positions...always friendly, always supportive even through your or my crises...until suddenly I found myself teaching at the same university as you, with some of the same students and colleagues, still the same wonderful friend, now living close enough so we could share our entertainment choices and frequent dinner engagements in the wealth of New York's and your home's offerings. I miss you, Joe...I will always miss you and think gratefully of those numerous past years.

Joe and I are distant relatives - I discovered him while doing genealogy research in the 90s, and we met once in Manhattan during a business trip of mine. He was such a gentleman, and provided some family details that I documented. The research showed with near certainty that anyone with our name was related - and this included an offshoot branch that changed the name to "Pickney." The name origin is related to the French town of Picquigny that my sister and I have both visited - it has a small place in history. My condolences to family and friends - age 97 is a very full life, and I hope that it was joyful to the end.

Joseph Pequigney was my teacher for Milton and Shakespeare at Stony Brook University. He recommend me for a teaching assistantship at Stony
Brook helping me to earn a PhD. I loved his courses and I loved him. He was a committed teacher who inspired me as a teacher. I will always remember him. My condolences to his spouse and family.
Kathleen Kern

Although I had Professor Pequigney as my professor over 30 years ago, I will never forget him. I was in his Shakespearean Tragedies course and I went home so excited about learning after each class. He spoke with such enthusiasm and made me see Shakespeare in a whole new light. I brought what I learned from him into my teaching of high school students. In addition to being a wonderful and inspirational teacher, Professor Pequigney was a kind and encouraging man. My heartfelt condolences go out to his family.