Amy Einsohn was 61 when she passed away, in Oakland, California. She was my close partner and loving spouse. She was also a brilliant writer and teacher, with depth and wit. Her book, The Copyeditor’s Handbook, is a marvel, capping her many years as copyeditor and teacher in the field.
She kept dear friendships from Manhattan childhood, Hunter High School (1969), Ann Arbor and Berkeley, from her time as a young woman making her way. The friends and colleagues, musicians and writers too, the walkers and talkers remember her voice.
As the word of Amy’s passing went out I began receiving wonderful messages from some of her old friends. Some of them plainly knew a lot of what Amy was about and, profoundly, of what she was.
You who are reading this -- please feel free to let memory speak.
Here anyway are some of my rough notes about Amy:
Authentic —She made her own living and her own place, tasting the bitter and the sweet that came. She learned things for herself, did her own research, and made a mark in her chosen field through work, letters and posts, her book. She persevered to become that trusted authority. And Amy gathered trust not just professionally but while breathing —she disdained the falsity and hype that blows about. She knew when she didn’t know and what she presented was the real thing.
Fun, though—Who will describe Amy’s sense of humor? We know about this, yet it’s hard to nail. I learned that to locate the classroom of her copyediting class, you just followed the raucous laughter. Yes, “literally” rolling in the aisles (if there had been aisles). What exactly was so funny? Just thinking on that will cheer me somewhat. But how was it that Amy had us laughing?
New Yorker —A subset of Amy’s authenticity, this topic calls for care: New York City bestows a touch on some of its wonderful children, even when they leave town for good, as Amy did. That indelible stamp turned up a bit more in Amy’s recent years. And it’s not just about bagels or pronunciation of the word “apartment.” I know because I’m not from there. When we last visited New York, in 2003, we studied for fun and used the WPA guide to New York City that was one of Amy’s special sources. As another, Amy learned about baseball from her father, Ralph, who favored the New York Giants, which Amy followed even unto San Francisco last season. Amy’s New Yorkish traits, however, showed up more strongly in assumptions about civilization and life, in the mixed flavors of hope and realism that filled out her style.
Grandma —Yep. Amy took great joy in the grandmother role with her nearby grandson. She had not anticipated this awesome status conferred by a small child, and the experience was lovely to observe.
How smart she was —About so many things little and big, while wishing for better, going for the good. And too, a Math department didn't want women in 1970, nor did Science open its door. Amy kept faith with those she loved, with the women who inspired, and she kept on keeping on, loyal to the best of our times.. There's a lot more to say, and there's a glow.
Thanks so much for your remembrance.
—Chris Raisner
I loved Amy, she loved me,
we partnered up our two half-lives,
and made them one, a hand in glove,
whistling past eternity
against the odds, against the day –
Even with time run on its way,
the world smashed up in halves,
one single lingering smile would see
and push the lasting far goodbye away
