20-07-2025
How We Live On, Long After We Are Gone
To the Editor:
Re 'The Love We Leave Behind,' by Roger Rosenblatt (Opinion guest essay, July 15):
I had the privilege recently of attending a memorial service of sorts for one of the titans of the advertising profession: Alex Kroll Sr., a former chief executive of Young & Rubicam, who died this past December. (He was instrumental in devising the United Negro College Fund's line, 'A mind is a terrible thing to waste.') Like Mr. Rosenblatt, I was struck by how swiftly the details of even the most significant of careers can fade — but also how enduring the simplest moments of that life can be.
Of all the people who spoke that day, the one who remains with me most was Mr. Kroll's grandson Cooper, who described a walk he took with his grandfather one snowy Vermont morning. The two stopped by a frozen pond, and the young boy expected some bit of woodland wit, for which his grandfather was known. But instead, Mr. Kroll stood in silence, choosing not to mar the beauty of that moment with words.
That moment of silence, that model of how to truly take in life, now lives on — not just in Cooper but with everybody who heard him tell his story that day. And who knows? It may just turn out to be the most lasting bit of copy one of the 20th century's great copywriters ever produced.
Kevin GroomePrinceton, N.J.
To the Editor:
My father left a significant legacy in his interest in the natural world. He and my mother trekked, canoed and explored some of the most untouched and beautiful places on earth. At home, he found much satisfaction in taking care of his Connecticut property and vegetable garden.
When he died, I turned to the planting practice he taught me, searching for closeness to him. Nothing ever really dies in the garden, he would say to me. Only after digging spring bulbs into his memorial grave that late November day did I fully understand what he meant.
I didn't hold much hope the bulbs would survive so late in the season, but come spring, I found my father covered by sprays of daffodils. This showed me that life is indeed perennial and enduring, with a kind of immortality I could finally grasp.
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