When I first met Leslie, she was a twenty-something-year-old Pilates instructor in Champaign and I was a fifty-year old retired professional in an apprenticeship program trying hard to become an instructor. We remained friends after, through the family’s move back to the Highland area.
Most striking over the years have been Leslie’s kindness, generosity of spirit, sense of fairness and quiet humility. Of course, her sometimes offbeat sense of humor deserves mention, too, along with her penchant for tardiness. She was the kind of person who did not call attention to herself or her talents, but quietly went about her business. If you didn’t look carefully, you might miss her keen intellect.
In the occasionally uncharitable and insular world of Pilates, Leslie was extraordinarily generous in sharing her knowledge. Any sensible person observing her perform the work herself should have been intimidated. She moved through exercises demanding great physicality with a seemingly effortless lightness and grace, yet always remained modest and seemed surprised by a compliment. She was also one of the most talented and creative Pilates teachers I’ve come across, with an intuitive understanding and awareness of the body and her own brand of quirky but utterly precise cues to guide her clients. The work and teaching came so easily to her she sometimes seemed to take her talents for granted.
When things once got tough for me and a friend, she stood by us at great risk to herself. She didn’t make a big deal about it, but just quietly did the thing she believed was right.
Most importantly, when Vega was born Leslie was over the moon--completely in love with her daughter and with the whole idea and process of motherhood. She remarked then that she and Kurt carefully chose the name because Vega is one of the brightest stars in the night sky and perhaps the most important star after the sun. Leslie always spoke of Vega with a kind of unbridled pride and joy, proving the name was fitting.
Leslie was a bright star in her own right and I like to think she will keep watch over all of us from above. She will be missed and her memory cherished.
