The latest from The Remembrance Project
Dr. Robert Doyle was uncompromising about patient care. He was the only physician in Bridgton, the only surgeon in the only hospital, and never off duty.
Mary Margaret Kasiewicz, a devoted junior high reading specialist, did not let a difficult illness keep her from traveling the world with her husband.
Jessie Aufman "would gladly watch paint dry" if only her brother Dylan would do it too, their father remembers.
Berger debunked the medical results of Nazi experiments and was an early researcher into a less invasive type of aortic valve replacement.
"She could talk to people," her husband said. Barbara brought a natural curiosity onto their beloved "small farm."
Archie Kenyon had the perfect captain’s temperament, though it wasn’t a traditional captain’s temperament.
His thinking about race and resilience was so broad and so deep.
For 20 years, Robert Minder’s students called him Moreh Shem. Moreh means "teacher," but sometimes it also means "sage." In his case, it meant both.
Raised in southern Italy, Carmine Barletta was the only one of his five siblings to go to college. In the late 1940s, that meant leaving home for a monastery. He was 12.
Dr. D. Rao Sanadi's scientific precision extended into his personal life. From India, he arranged his own marriage.
Paul's greatest love, aside from his wife of 65 years and five children, was golf.
Michael loved skiing and experiencing the outdoors with his family and friends.
In 1976, Jetta Brenner was chosen to manage the Sheraton Russell hotel in Manhattan. People soon started calling it "Jetta's Place."
A Chinese immigrant, Shelly Che potty trained, trimmed bread crusts, sized and sorted seasonal clothes, and cooked broccoli to the perfect child-friendly texture.
John Michael Gray was an arts educator in Newton, with a doctorate from Boston University. He was also one half of The Hat Sisters.
Amtul "Amijaan" Hafeez shaped her large family’s life in unending ways, from homeschooling to clothes-making. She died in Cambridge at 94.
Along with skateboarding, Travis loved kids. He loved teaching them to “shred,” running competitions, overseeing parties.
Home-baked desserts, espresso, home-brewed wine: that was all in a routine family meal for Carmelinda Inglese. And she was joyfully at its center.
Years into his career, Dr. Schulman veered away from a more traditional path in medicine to join the Hope ship, a floating ambulatory care center and teaching hospital.
He cared for the catatonic, the traumatized, the violent. “I’d been through war,” he wrote. “These patients were comrades.”