these memories were first collected at, courtesy of Michael Barry, Julie Witcover, and DC Hash House Harriers


From Mark McMackin

It is my sad duty to inform you that yesterday, while running with Julie, Bruce Stone felt severe shoulder pain and returned home, where he died of an apparent heart attack.

I will keep you informed of anything I learn.


From Don Davis

Bruce's girl friend Julie called to inform the hash that Bruce died suddenly of a heart attack last night. My phone number was the first one she found of the hashers so she asked me to pass this shocking news. She said that Bruce hadn't been feeling well yesterday and while having Easter dinner at his place in Lake Tahoe he excused himself from the dinner table and walked back to the bedroom. Julie followed him and found him on the floor. The emergency crew was there within minutes but he was gone. Of course Julie is very distraught and it is too early for any funeral arrangements to be announced. She expects that Bruce's mother may have the services done in New York. Julie is being comforted in Tahoe by friends...That's all I know. I expect Julie to pass us more information but I didn't press given her emotional state.

Follow-up #1 for the hash: An old friend of Bruce's (Ramona Lauda) called to also inform the hash of Bruce's death. Ironically Ramona worked at the National Science Foundation with Bob Santos and was introduced to Bruce by Bob) Bruce and Ramona had dated on and off for about 15 years. Ramona has also continued a close friendship with Bruce's mother who lives in DeWitt, NY. It was Bruce’s mother who called Ramona with the news. Bruce's mother told Ramona that Bruce will be buried in a family grave site in DeWitt (suburb of Syracuse). Bruce was predeceased by his father and sister so his mother is the only immediate family survivor. Sympathy cards, etc. should be addressed to: Mrs. David Stone, 304 Jamesville Road, DeWitt, NY 13214. (Her name is Katherine "Kay" Stone but she goes by Mrs. Stone for mail purposes.)... I didn't get Julie's address but she of course deserves condolences too. I expect that some of you have that info. A long time friend of Bruce's has the condo next to Bruce's in Lake Tahoe. His name is Jeff Brasswell and his number is (775) 586-8522. We may be getting more info from him. He also has a close friend in DC outside the hash named Bob Flood. Maybe some of you know him -- I don't recall meeting him -- so if you have contact with him he may provide future info too...Ramona also said that she heard from Kay Stone that Bruce and Julie had been jogging yesterday and Bruce complained of pain in his chest and remarked that he may have overdone it....Kay Stone told Ramona that she doesn't want to "fly Bruce all around the country" so any memorial service we have here for him would be without his physical presence. This is all too sudden to decipher now but we should have some hash gathering for him like we did for Bob. The VFW hall is certainly available. If any of you has suggestions or would like to take the lead please step up. There are many of you who knew Bruce longer than I did and were closer friends. It's just happenstance that I got the call...Don

Remembrance Hash.

Cover and Coyne invite you to join them on trail at 1:00 on Sunday April 7 in front of the Potomac Boat House in Georgetown for an unofficial memorial hash run in honor of Bruce. We will set the run. We have not reserved the boathouse; this is just where we will meet. After we run we will go to Chadwick's or some other bar. Bring a dry shirt and money for food and beer. Parking will be difficult. Everyone is welcome.

Directions: Make your best way to Wisconsin Ave and head south till it ends at K Street under the Whitehurst Freeway. Turn right. The après site is right there. Continue on K till it ends underneath the Key Bridge. Park and hash. Parking may be a bitch. No dogs at après.
Marty Cover and Bob Coyne

The Run: Several dozen of us met at the appointed hour at the boathouse. Pre run talk was largely about Bruce and how much he had loved hashing and the DCH3 hash. At 1300 we were off, following a mauve colored trail that made its way through Georgetown and then through the woods of Glover Archibold Park. We found the promised beer check in Charles Butterworth’s back yard. There we mingled, talked about Bruce and drank the Bass and Tupper’s Hop Pocket the hares had provided. After about 30 minutes, we drank a toast to Bruce and headed back to the start, with many beer-induced walkers among the crowd. Marty Cover met us at the boathouse where we drank the rest of the beer check beers before walking to Chadwick’s. There Bob Coyne bought everyone the first beer and the hash bought everyone’s second beer. After an hour or so and another toast to Bruce, the crowd started to thin. I’m sure Bruce would have loved it. In fact, I’m sure Bruce would have been the last to leave.

Marty Michlik

The news crashed over us like a tidal wave dropping to us the depths of sadness. These memories are our way of making Bruce live on in our hearts and minds. They are included pretty much in the order received. As Lynn Juhl writes below, Bruce, we never got to tell you this.

Lynn Juhl Marty Michlik John Komoroske Don Davis Bob Coyne

Charles Butterworth Tom Sheridan Bob Shinton Fred Hillmann

Kirk Taylor Ken Williams Art Wineburg Jim Regan Mark McMackin

Bob Fitzgerald Bob Evans Peter Farrell Gene Fox Tony Englert

Steve Jones John Barrett Tim Piro Peter Forbes Greg Emmanuel

George Leidig Alan Bowser Brian Marshall Jeff Stoiber

Hugh Robinson Wally Siggers Bill Singleton Bob Mock

Jack Tieder Bob Holland Michael Gallagher

Final Note

The Funeral


From Lynn Juhl

I never got to tell you all this, but
I have always admired --
You the Cosmopolitan
You at home in so many places
You a citizen of the world
You the Hasher
You and Julie --
what an interesting complementary couple.
Bruce, I will see you on trail, On On.


From Marty Michlik

Bruce will be sorely missed. I remember his tenure as On Sec well. He had a great tongue in cheek way of recording hash runs, to include the Trash he did completely in Microsoft Wingdings.

I remember his showing up in Tasmania, without a whole lot of prior planning. He worked a combination of rental cars and high speed boats to make all the connections, but he had a great time and we had a great time with him.

Another memory of mine was Bruce and Julie playing scrabble by their own rules. I think the rules were they could make up words if the words seemed to be somewhat plausible. The first time I saw that was at Weekend in the Mountains in West Virginia. They were playing and I looked at the board, which I thought was filled with foreign words. I saw that same game many times thereafter.

On On, Bruce. It has been wonderful having you a part of our lives.


From John Komoroske

I always thought of Bruce as the most appropriately surnamed individual in the Hash, a real rock, physically and intellectually and emotionally, that the rest of us relied on.

Let me correct for the record Marty's observation about Bruce's tongue in cheek - they weren't wing dings in that write up, they were Greek characters, and he used them to write up my hash. While it may have been Greek to everyone else, I spent 3 hours breaking the code to find out what he had said - I'll bet I was the only one who did - and enjoyed every minute of it, just like we all enjoyed being around him.

Given the heights of athleticism he scaled in his rowing career and running pastime, I thought the rock would be with us forever in physical form, but the next chance now to meet up with him is at the ultimate après.

On On, Bruce. We will miss you here, but remember you on and on and on...

From Don Davis

I was unabashedly in awe of the guy. In addition to admiring his myriad of talents, I echo the comments made by Forbes in feeling disarmed when having a conversation with him about ANY subject -- despite the his characteristic of never intentionally making you feel inferior. Consequently I particularly enjoyed eavesdropping on his conversations with others. The most recent I recall was at Hillmann's hash where Bruce was engaged in a discourse with Paul Phillips over the topic of whether or not some NFL referees were on the take. Bruce's stance was that some were; Paul was adamant that they weren't. As you all know, the demeanor of these two are poles apart -- ergo went the debate. Paul is getting more excited by the second as his jutting jaw and reddening face is in sync with his rising voice. Contrast this with Bruce's steadfast calm smiling presence as they spar back and forth. Although neither convinced the other, Paul finally left in apparent disgust. Bruce turned to me and said manner of factly – still smiling, "Argumentive fellow, isn't he?" ...In addition to feeling a deep personal lose in not being able to cherish future associations with Bruce, my heart aches for Julie as well. The two of them together was more than just a pair.

From Bob Coyne

I suggest we all stay at the Hash until 11:30 on Saturday in honor of Bruce.

Friends of Bruce
The recollections by each of you of conversations with Bruce at the Hash are heartwarming and amazing. I can't remember a complete conversation that I had with Bruce. I guess I have followed Willie's suggestion about the practical use of one's intellect after an Après " Forgetting is as important as remembering."
Only fleeting images of times spent, hash locations and laughter click through my mind with each blink of my eye.

Bruce running in red painted snow in his weathered leather jacket, ski mask and gloves across a power line at Bill White's in Ashton telling us about agricultural issues of Tibet

Bruce packing in Hashers onto an already over-crowded deck off 17th street,

Bruce sharing a keg and conversation on the roof of the Potomac Boat house,

Bruce throwing logs and leaves on a roaring bonfire in Rock Creek

Bruce running up the Inca Trail to Macha Pichu

Bruce sleeping on my couch after an Après

Bruce wolfing down breakfast at Eileen's Greasy Spoon in Chestertown while explaining how he made money carrying poisonous snakes wrapped under his clothes on airplane flights from South America

Bruce extolling the virtues of Chinese software to a group of passed-out hashers at Interhash

While my recollections are in no particular order and constantly change, Bruce's pattern of life was always the same with everyone. He took the time to talk and listen and his insight helped us reflect on what we are capable of becoming.

From Charles Butterworth

No single memory of Bruce stands out. For me, he was a man of parts, someone always willing to take an extra moment to probe what had just been said and, equally important, always concerned about the whole Hasher. Thus he would always ask about the members of the family obviously not at the Hash and would ask with genuine interest as well as memory of previous conversations.

When we met outside the Hash, it was inevitably on the canal, Bruce running one direction and I another. We would greet, pause for a quick exchange, and then continue on our ways. At the Hash, it was different. There, the conversation carried on and on. Bruce always had time for the details and usually made a quick, but telling, observation.

What I will remember, above all, is Bruce's follow-through. A comment made in one of these conversations almost always found a reply, either in a telephone call a few days later or, as though no time had passed, at the next Hash. This is a man it was a pleasure, even a privilege, to know. I will miss him greatly, as will the two non-Hashers in my family for whom Bruce always had time: Debby and Gaby.

On, On, Bruce, and may the trail be all you hoped for,

From Tom Sheridan

Thoughts on Bruce
Hungry for info about Bruce this night I found out he was gone--I searched Syracuse (his hometown) and Lake Tahoe (his residence) internet newspapers for any info about him and his life and death. At the site for his residence at Zephyr Cove, I found this quote (no joke) on the startup page for the Zehpyr Cove Community:
“ And above all, friends should possess the rare gift of sitting.
They should be able, no, eager, to sit for hours-three, four, six-
over a meal of soup and wine and cheese, as well as one of
twenty fabulous courses.
Then, with good friends of such attributes, and good food on
the board, and good wine in the pitcher, we may well ask,
when shall we live if not now?”
The quote is by M.F.K. Fisher—a noted expert on and writer about cuisine (I just found out). When I read it, I said well that is Stoney all right……”able, no, eager, to sit (or stand, Hash-like) for hours-three, four, six…….etc.” No wonder he loved to be at Zephyr Cove. Sounds like one long damn-good après to me. I will very much miss him. We had some great discussions at many après. Of course, the best discussions where when Julie was there too… because when Bruce and I disagreed on whatever, politics, gun control, Julie was usually on my side. On On Stoney you son of a gun…you went WAY too early. My best to Julie. I wish she were near here now so we could—as their good friends—give her comfort in sharing remembrances of the good times we had with them both.


From Bob Shinton

You can't please all the people all the time - so when I write the Trash, I imagine writing to a small group. Bruce is in that group, and I will miss his audience.

A few years ago, at one of Willie's Halloween runs, Mark McMackin brought a trombone, which led to Bruce, Mark and me (all former trombonists) trading licks on the thing. Mark could hit several clean
notes, while I was just blowing spit. Bruce picked it up and played something very close to a melody. He was a cool, experienced guy who picked up (and kept) skills he acquired throughout his travels. I admired him.

On On, Bruce.

From Fred Hillmann

Bruce stayed on and on at my run last December. He always wanted to be the last to leave, and it took some persuasion on my part to convince him that the body in the corner (Davis) was spending the night, and thus he (Bruce) would be in fact the last to leave. This thread took some time, and Bruce enjoyed the process thoroughly.

Some years back, my hash fell on the 24th of December. I was denied the use of my house as the venue for the après, and went to a nearby bar in stead. Once again, when the time came to wrap up the festivities, Bruce and John Barrett started to play darts. I supplied them with a pitcher and made my escape.

I enjoyed Bruce's presence and wit, and was shocked to hear of his passing. But I think (I hope)that he enjoyed us as well. Bruce and this Hash were a good match, and we shall miss him.

From Kirk Taylor

Greg Bryant and I hared a run at Lake Needham Park under two feet of new snow.

It was a great scene for the hearty and stalwart among the ranks - bad road conditions in BF Egypt (MD), outdoor après being held illegally on the park premises, and 35 hashers show up - Bruce was among those prone to just this sort of situation.

After Cuddihy returned frozen from an unfortunate slip off the snow-covered tree limb crossing the lake and thawed standing on the fires; and, after the kegs froze solid and we melted the taps trying to thaw them, the hard-core drove to Bryant's basement for the On-On-On in Brookville.

Much thawing and merriment commenced and the party went on into the wee hours. Bruce was among those who stayed the course. He chose to sleep it off on a couch, until about 3am when he decided to make a move for home. Twenty minutes later, he was back, escorted by Brookville's finest law enforcement, who stop anyone driving through town at that hour. The gentlemen had pulled him over and after some interrogation, determined that it better for Mr. Stone to rejoin his snoring colleagues 'til daylight.

We had pancakes for breakfast and Bruce was on his way again. For me, a great Hash memory of Bruce Stone in full force.

From Ken Williams

A number of years ago Art Wineburg and I had a laugh on how late Bruce stayed at Art's Monday run out of his house on Ellicott St. About a month later, as Art was leaving my Monday night hash about 9:30 PM, he noted Bruce's absence and the fact that for once Bruce wouldn't be the last to leave that night. The next day I got to call Art and ask him to guess who WAS the last to leave, knowing he couldn't get it right. Bruce ARRIVED about 10 and stayed until almost midnight. Bruce would stay until you surrendered; he always won the après.

From Art Wineburg

I last saw Bruce and Julie in Davis at the Prague Restaurant in late January. My daughter and her boy friend were there and in all our conversation ranging all over the lot, as only Bruce could do, he kept
everyone in the conversation, giving context and meaning (indeed finding more meaning than I had discerned) to what we were talking about, so Rebekah and Jon were not left out. As others have said, Bruce always had time for everyone, and included everyone. He was a true Hasher, one of a kind, and we will always remember him, his kindness, his knowledge and his humor.
On On Bruce.

From Jim Regan

Bruce Stone, as evidenced by the source of the tributes thus far, bridged the gap in seamless fashion between the DCH3 of the late-70s/early-80s and today. Though I saw "Stoner", as we used to call him, only once in recent years (December 2000 at the former On-Sec's dinner prior to the 1500th) I have many memories of him from those earlier days when I and the erstwhile "North Portal Striders" sub-division of the DCH3 (Soriano, Fletcher, Bowman Bros., Hume, Stoiber, McCusker, et al.) would often be among the last (if ever) to leave the après, often along with Stoner. One evening stands out when a Saturday afternoon run and après segued into a long, raucous night at "Ireland's Four Provinces" (a frequent haunt) with Stoner holding forth at out table for many an hour, delighting lads and lassies alike with tales of his global adventures, all the while conveying his innate wisdom and decency. Not for the first time, or the last, we closed down the "4Ps" that night and stumbled out after last call into the "wee, small hours". I believe it was the first time I had talked at length with Stoner and I had many enjoyable and enlightening conversations with him thereafter.

It will be my bittersweet duty and honor to host Run #1570 this coming Saturday. While some of you may travel to Syracuse for Stoner's funeral, I sincerely welcome all others who knew Bruce Stone or did not. He will be remembered at this run, which will lead you along and across both Turkey and, ironically, Dead Run. Both streams, teeming with life this time of year, flow into the Potomac where I can still envision Stoner in his scull emerging from the fog on a cool, early Spring morning.

On-on, Stoner. You are indeed missed.


From Mark McMackin

I was lucky enough to meet Bruce through his childhood friend, my cousin Bob, and it was Bruce who takes the blame for bringing me into the hash. Bruce was a superb athlete and a gifted, committed rower. I was lucky enough to row with Bruce in a double and an 8, and one could not help but feel the experience of rowing with him would bring you to a higher level.

It was Bruce Stone who, by merit of the fact that he (after much arm twisting) agreed to join the Alexandria Crew for its assault at Head of the Charles, brought the Alexandria men's 8 into existence. Many people,
including other hashers benefited by his decision. We rowed out of the MIT boat house and for me it was a great thrill as our 8 went from non existent to competitive. Bruce, of course, had done it all, knew all the great rowers and coaches and was a walking encyclopedia of rowing. Being with Bruce was to learn.

He always had a way of making things more interesting. One morning I introduced him to our coxswain, a lovely young lady named Amy Hashimoto. I left them alone for just a moment and when I returned they were deep in conversation, Bruce putting the moves on her in Japanese no less. I had known he spoke Chinese but the facility to pick up a chick in Japanese was something that would be a surprise from anyone except Bruce.

His knowledge of the East was astounding and late one evening he shared with me wisdom gleaned from from his travels that even I would be able to comprehend. "Never sleep in the blue yurt when you are in Mongolia. It's the community urinal."

He and Julie had come by for a party between Christmas and New Years and we shared some tales. We talked about Tahoe and travel, good times and erg times. The evening progressed to the point many of us have had the pleasures of knowing, where late in the evening we have to scratch our head to remember if we had adopted him. The conversation turned to how lucky I am in my marriage, and he spoke of Julie with such loving kindness, and how lucky he was, that I assumed another marriage would soon be announced.

Bruce was the epitome of the athlete scholar, the type of man many of us would like to be. One could not help but feel the experience of being with him would bring you to a higher level.

On-on, Bruce, I hope the water is flat, the beer is cold and the conversation runs very, very late.

From Bob Fitzgerald

It is a tribute to Bruce that so many have taken the time to share their unique memories of a friend who made it a point to always have time for their good company and conversation. Bruce represents the essence of the Hash. He was a nationally ranked athlete and a world traveler and businessman. Yet when he was at the Hash he was eager only to enjoy the run, food, beer and most of all the company of the men who shared his love of hashing. As you have all noted, Bruce always seemed interested in what mattered to you and never talked much about himself. My story of Bruce is very much like the others.
I was haring a run at my house during the summer. It was a beautiful night at the pool and we had all enjoyed the Monday night festivities. Of course around 11:00 or so it was just Bruce and me discussing some interesting topic of the moment. I started to pick up the cups, plates and various sweaty running gear left behind when I noticed that Bruce was gone. I kept cleaning up outside when all of a sudden I heard piano music coming from our living room. When I went inside I found Bruce sitting at the baby grand, quite skillfully playing an array of tunes. My wife came down to see who this talented person was that somehow had invaded the Hash and she stayed with us while Bruce continued to play. For a change it was a late night of hashing that brings back very pleasant memories for both of us.
We can only hope that God chose Easter Sunday to prematurely take our friend and fellow hasher because the flour on the trail to heaven was freshly laid and easy to follow. On On Bruce.

From Bob Evans

It's interesting as I read each person's reflections on having known Bruce, that each focuses on a unique Stone quality. I did not engage Bruce in conversation that many times, beyond the standard Hash trivia/drivel. I knew Bruce through his exceptional On-Secmanship. I have saved nearly every Stone Trash from his first masterpiece (#1153) where he literally dazzled us with his writing prowess and command of this language. "Artistic entertainment was furnished by Christine, who rendered 'A Choreographic impression inspired by the spirit of NAFTA.' Christine proved to be surprisingly appropriate to the occasion inasmuch as her age, girth, and dancing prowess approximated the Hash mean, which was amply demonstrated as club members, one-by-one, were cajoled into wagging it and swagging it around her general vicinity."
Run #1167 Trash began with a Michlik Maxim..."Always run the trail the hare should have set: if it's a good run' you'll find flour there, it not, you'll at least have a better run than the rest of the pack." The entire Trash was a masterpiece, as most were. Run #1164 Trash ended with a sentence that exemplifies so many of the Stone stories written over the past two days. "In a healthy sign for the Hash (if not for property values and domestic tranquility), this semi-virgin run marked the seventh or eighth in the last dozen Hashes in which a crowd of a dozen or more were still on hand past 10:30 or 11:00 PM. There's life in this group after all."
Bruce noted in his first Trash..."as you can see if you haven't already passed out, write-ups may be much longer. But they are not required reading." Required reading or not, I would venture to say that Bruce's Trashes were better read (even #1190) and retained than any to date.
I am happy to have known Bruce and happier still that I can refer back to his very memorable writings, where his words conjure for me a thousand pictures.
On-on Bruce


From Peter Farrell

If it is true that you are judged by the company you keep; Bruce Stone can only be viewed as one of the luckiest people ever. It never ceases to amaze me the enormous amount of friendship and commitment the members of the hash have to one another. Some are lucky to have a friend, those with more then one are very lucky but those in the hash …… it is indescribable.
My Bruce Stone memory was at a hash I hosted with Chas Forsman at the boat house. It was a Saturday in December but Mother Nature had spring on her mind. I think it was about 65 degrees. We ran one of my lame trails, as usual. The grill was going and the beer was flowing. After finishing two kegs and what Chas and I thought were plenty of roadies I made not two but three trips to Dixie liquors for more. Nothing doing….The hearty lads, Bruce as ring leader, stayed on. The last resort was the vending machine dispensing “Stroh’s” for $.50……….We drank a fist full of quarters worth of that beer but enjoyed every drop of friendship and fellowship we shared. I spent a lot of time with Bruce that day and enjoyed every minute of it. I will miss him. God’s speed!

From Gene Fox

Well, my fondest memory of Bruce is the Valentines Day rose delivery program he set up a few years back. All of us decked out in tuxedos racing all over town to drop off the flowers to sweet young things. I had my own protection along too-my partner was John Barrett. Bruce watched over us carefully cruising around in his antique car with the v-shaped bumper. And on top of it all we made good money!! Had a chance to spend some time with Bruce Tasmania when he gave me a ride back to Hobart from the Aussie Immigrant Prison. Great guy-hard to believe he is gone. God bless him. Geno

From Tony Englert

Play it again Sam er--Bruce. Another late night story, I remember my first hash with the crawfish in my backyard. I remember Bruce saying that the crawfish had made him thirsty and he was still thirsty at about midnight, "just leave the lights on" was his comment. My neighbor's son was home from college and Bruce introduced himself and the two of them stayed drinking beer in my backyard until I am told about 2am or when the last of the roadies were gone. Bruce you were one of a kind. Thanks for the friendship. On On

From Steve Jones

I wish I knew him better. I remember Bruce, but unfortunately don't have a story to tell.

It speaks great of a man, who is looked back on by those of us who remain, with such fondness and thoughtful memories. In my brief co-existence with DCH3 I have met and made many such friends. It amazes me that I can go months without seeing you all and yet in a few brief minutes get current and move on to the Hash ritual of debating good beer, good runs, good women (and bad ones too!), good friends, and share a tale or two. This is the magic of DCH3 to me.

On On Bruce, there is a virgin trail and a new keg waiting for you up there.

From John Barrett

I remember attending Bill Panton's daughter's wedding and Willie Decided that Bruce was more sober than myself! Five hours later we arrived at my house in Bethesda, 4am, after a scenic drive to Winchester from Westfields, in Chantilly!!
Bruce, you Bad Boy!!
Will always miss you my friend!!!!

From Tim Piro

When I first began running with the hash, Bruce Stone always came up to me and asked how I was doing, how my job hunt was going, and what he could do help me out if things got difficult. That always stuck in my mind about Bruce...Always willing to help, always willing to lend an ear, and an ability to make you feel that when he was talking to you, you were the most important person in the world.

At the hash, Bruce and I had many discussions about politics, about his travels in Asia and Africa, and about my time in the Middle East. It made for interesting talk as we were working on our 4th or 5th beer.

Many people have commented how Bruce was always one of the last people to leave the hash. Well, I remember one time when he picked me up one Monday afternoon, he arrived at my house at 3:30 PM. When I said, "Bruce, you're way too early," he said, "I know...But I didn't want to be late." Needless to say, we went off to the run and got there about 4:30 PM--the first ones there well before the horn sounded.

Bruce got to where he was going way too early for all of us...And I will miss him...On On Bruce!!! We'll see you at the après....

From Peter Forbes

To DCHashers and Julie and Bruce if you can hear…

I don't care that Bruce lived enough for ten normal lifetimes; it just seems wrong that he’s gone. The more I think about it, the sadder I get.

To me Bruce was a true Renaissance man- he was rich and great not because he had so much but because he did so much and did so much so well. Bruce was a genius -- kind of like a real man's Mozart. He could drink and think better than anyone I know -- and while you were trying to keep up with him on those two scores, he could be playing trombone, piano, translating what you were saying into God knows how many languages and in a truly funny and ironic sense, helping you translate yourself for yourself. I remember asking him years ago, “what kind of music do you like to listen to?” He answered: “I mostly like to play piano for myself.” Not only could Bruce say something like that without sounding like a pretentious asshole, but, even if you didn't know him well, you got a real visceral sense that this guy was not bullshitting! He was a creator and a doer; and when he was simply a “spectator”, he was the most interesting and involved sort. I am deeply appreciative of Bruce for inspiring me to get back to my childhood passion of creating music (which I thankfully rediscovered is immensely different from owning 1000 CDs). Do you know the music from the movie Gallipoli? It’s Albinoni’s Adagio- some of the saddest music ever written. It is how I feel about losing Stoner.

Bruce and I often talked about financial markets. He could talk about almost anything- any stock, any industry, any country, any daily mania or hundred year trend. It was usually exhilarating to volley the intellectual ball across the net a few times; but more often than not, the exhilaration would turn into exasperation and sometimes silent humiliation as you realized that Bruce had another 20 ideas and shots that you could barely get your racket on let alone return with any finesse.

He was a warrior in so many ways; he loved to win! But he also knew that what made life so interesting and satisfying was to keep experimenting, keep exploring the world and his own frontiers. I feel truly honored to have been part of his life and will never stop missing him.

On On, Forbes


From Greg Emmanuel

There were many things that impressed me about Bruce with his astounding depth of knowledge that so many of you have talked about. In sports any conversation was always illuminating. From his predictions
about Baltimore's quarterback last year, to his in depth discussions about the Orioles with my wife Terrie.
5 or 6 years ago he was telling me about a huge find of nickel ore that was discovered in Tanzania and told me about the company doing the investment. I always considered myself knowledgeable about most things going on there – in this case Bruce was way ahead. He had spent a lot of time in Malawi and had friends there whom he visited regularly. His grasp of the politics in Africa was complete and insightful. Terrie once picked up one of Bruce's erudite trashes and after reading it said, "Who is the man that wrote this - I have to meet him." I will miss not hosting Bruce in Tanzania - something that we had talked about. Ironically when we were in Tahoe last November we wanted to visit Bruce but he was in DC. What an incredibly sad loss, and a reminder of life's tenuousness. I share Julie and Mrs. Stone's tragic loss and grief.

On-On Bruce,

From George Leidig

I got to know Bruce very well the year I mismanaged the funds while he served as On Sec. I was always amazed at his remarkable ability to carry on a coherent and intellectual conversation even while continuing to refresh his thirst. He was one of the two or three people I have met in my life whose remarkably well rounded personality was eclipsed by the depth of their knowledge. Like most of us, I can talk a little about a lot....Bruce could talk a lot about everything. That fact has been repeated in all of the tributes thus far.

The truly remarkable thing about Bruce was the depth of his character. He was always interested in the events of your life and always has an ear to lend. Never too quick to offer advice, yet willing to do so when asked.

I was saddened to hear of Bob's death, but Bruce's untimely passing has shocked and saddened me. Like Bob, the lives that Bruce touched were better for having encountered him. I will miss him, even though I only saw him on an infrequent basis in the last few years. The positive spin on all of the losses that we all have endured in our lives is that they are never really gone as long as we remember them. Bruce will be remembered long after the keg has been floated.

On On,

From Alan Bowser

Since I'm not a "late stayer," I didn't know that Stone had that well-known reputation. But I do remember him staying late AT MY HOUSE a couple of years ago after a summer BBQ and hash. Nearly all of my guests had gone home, and the ones that stayed congregated in the living room to listen to some music
and to do some more drinking. Bruce Stone won again. He was the last to leave after passing out on the couch for a few hours. Knowing what I know now, I'm honored that he crashed at my place.

Looking back, I knew Bruce Stone for a long time. He and I went to Princeton. He graduated in 1970, the year I started so I didn't know him from them. I knew him from the Princeton Reunions held every spring on campus. I would occasionally stumble into him late at night, under some tent, beer in hand. I'm sure he perfected "late staying" at Princeton University in the late sixties.

As everybody in the Hash knows, he was an enormously talented and intelligent guy. This guy had "a beautiful mind." A world-class rower, who lettered every year he was at college. I also knew him from the work he did on Asian agriculture. He was an accomplished writer on international agricultural and
rural development, and considered an expert in the field. We shared an interest in things Chinese. But he could speak it. It turns out we shared some other things too, but I promised her that I would never tell the story to anyone. I had to tell it to Stone.

I remember how astonished I was when he told me he completed the Inca Trail to Macchu Picchu in only hours, when it took Cover, Emmanuel and I three and 1/2 days. He ran the fucking Inca Trail! Twice, I think.

And I remember how happy I WAS when Julie came into HIS life.

Santos and Stone…two guys that I hope to see again. I'll miss them both.

Damn! I know what you mean, Marty.

From Brian Marshall

We seem to recognize the quality of a person most fully only when they're gone. This guy was one of the best.
Bruce had solid intelligence, catholic interests, good character and a generous spirit. He also appreciated beer and enjoyed the fellowship of the Pack.
He had standards too. He felt there was a right way and a wrong way to do things - even in the Hash - and he demonstrated that view - again quietly, in the right way.
This man did a lot, saw a lot and left much too soon. Together with Julie though, he experienced a life well lived.


From Jeff Stoiber

I always enjoyed my conversations with Bruce at the Hash but at first I thought that he was a big bullshitter because he was conversant on so many topics. Over time I learned, like everyone else who came into contact with him has, that he was just an extraordinary guy with an incredible intellect. Like others I was amazed at his memory of previous conversations or details of what was going on in my life.

Although I considered Bruce more of a Hash Buddy than a close personal friend, he called me most times when he got back in town from Nevada and we would get together on the spur of the moment for a beer at Mr. Egans. Sometimes Julie would join us and I always enjoyed our conversations and hearing about Bruce's adventures. No matter what was going on I would always drop what I was doing and meet him...I hope I get the chance to meet up with him again someday...I will miss him greatly.
On-On Bruce


From Hugh Robinson

I guess I'm one of the few who never engaged Bruce in deep philosophical,
financial, or sporting conversations. I sensed he was something of a
mystery man - well traveled and educated, musically versatile (I remember him playing piano in the lobby of the hotel where Bruce Morgan had earlier tied the knot), and fluent in several languages. Consequently, these reflections will catalog fond recollections.

While he was not a member of the VFW Post, I recall hearing that Bruce made a generous contribution to the Post - I guess it was his way of thanking those who had served in the military and expressing his appreciation for the Post having welcomed the Hash on so many occasions. I remember completing a
particularly brutal Stoner run from Georgetown (Pete Metzger and I actually aborted the damned thing when it appeared to still be going out after a half hour) to find Bruce in deep conversation with the bartender of Champions where he had set the après. The conversation went on for quite some time, unlike so many of the fleeting conversations that highlight an après.

I recall another run from his walkup pad that opened onto a second floor roof. Bruce casually watched the sacrificial hurling of the virgin he had been keeping for himself in his kitchen from the roof to the alley below to appease the beer gods. As I recall, it was Chuck Updegrove who hurled the watermelon off the roof after appropriate chants were rendered – something to the effect of "Drink the beer you #$%&%" Cleaning up her shattered
remains was quite a chore. A particularly boozy evening it was. Bruce was equally blasé' when Barrett began launching missiles into the surrounding neighborhood with, I believe, a slingshot. And, I remember having returned
from rafting the Green River in Colorado to be asked by Bruce where I had been. It soon turned out that Bruce and Julie, too, had recently done the same stretch of the river.

Marilyn also told me about a conversation with Bruce at the reception following Bob Santos' funeral. As he approached, she said something about Julie such as "You sure have a classy woman there." He briefly paused and then responded, "Yeah. Don't I though." It goes without saying that he and Julie were among the handful of people (all hashers) still there when Marilyn and I finally departed (the caterers had long left and the hosts, as I recall, had just appeared in pajamas).

He was quite a guy. On On, Bruce

From Wally Siggers

My thoughts about Bruce are sort of like those of Bob Coyne. I don't have an event that stands out or an interesting story to tell. Oh, I recall leaving a hash, late, with only Bruce and one or two others, knowing that Bruce would outlast them all. I recall the frustration I felt when I discussed the economy with him. I recall his gentle, calm demeanor.

I also recall, perhaps my last conversation with him, the last time he was in town. I was having difficulty running and was quite concerned about my limitation. I was at the VFW. He sought me out to tell me that he, too, had limitations. His resolve was to run only once a week, and then engage in other physical activities. That, I think I knew. But, his demeanor said to me, "And that's okay". And, I felt better.

But, the unforgettable memory was last Monday. I read my email mid-morning. I turned the computer off and then back on again. I was disbelieving. I felt pain and denial at the same time. While I am still trying to comprehend Bob's passing, I find Bruce's unacceptable. He was too strong, too able, too active, too unready.

I am trying to understand why this is so hard for me. I think in part that I, perhaps we, see our hash and our members as strong and enduring. And, Bruce, one of the most powerful and enduring, is suddenly gone.
I do not get these emails from the hash at my office. Each of the last three nights I have gone directly to the computer after getting home to read and re-read the memories we have written. That helps.

From Bill Singleton

Several years back, I was at a DCH3 après discussing an upcoming joint DC-Philly hash. It was mentioned that a site had not been selected, and Bruce offered that he might have an idea. Two days later I got a call that the finest boathouse on the famous Philly riverfront was available to us free of charge. The hosts were only too glad to do a favor for friends of Bruce.

Bruce was a caring man of great achievement who truly felt comfortable with himself. He left his job in China after his father's death so he could be near his mother during the critical first year of widowhood. He quietly made significant financial donations to the VFW to help out. These caring acts were unknown to many of us, and that is the way Bruce wanted it. Bruce was a complex guy in many ways- but always a caring and intriguing one. I am honored to have been his friend. On On Willie

From Bob Mock

Wally has hit on a very important thing when he write how important it has been to him to have the many shared memories of Bruce to read on e-mail. The grief of a loss lack that with Bruce (and now with Dann) is too much to share alone. I found that out when my wife died five years ago. Being on line with all our old friends (many of you included) was so important in getting me through that period. FRIENDS AND FRIENDSHIP, that's what it's all about .. and the DCH3 is so very special in that direction (even to this guy who's 2000 miles away but still is lifted via this sharing.

From Jack Tieder

I cannot remember not knowing Bruce. Like many of you, Bruce and I were not best friends, but it seems he was always a part of my life. I always felt pleasure, but never surprise, when I happened to meet him whether it was drinking at a bar in Nairobi, running along the Embarcadero in San Francisco, engrossed in a book at Frankfurt airport (all happened) or most frequently at a DCH3 run after a long or short absence. The conversation would pick up where it had left off: last book read, the prospects for the Redskins, the nature of God, whether the Syracuse basketball team would ever win the NCAA’s under Jimmy Boheim, the benefits of running versus weight training, the best bar in San Francisco, and until Julie arrived, the incomprehensibility of the opposite sex, etc, etc.
Bruce moved around a lot. An old address book has a full page of crossed out and new numbers, including his most recent. It was added after the New Year’s Day run 2002, when we talked about meeting in San Francisco and going to both Athletics and a Giants game, a conversation we had often but never accomplished. I think I will make a point of it this year.
I prefer to believe that this is just another hiatus in our respective journeys. I’ll see him again and I won’t be surprised

From Bob Holland

Dear Brother Bruce,

I will always remember:

-Taking that warm-up run with you before the Tenleytown 10K many years ago and having a gentleman from the Harriettes reverently nod at you and say "Hey, Stoneman" as we jogged by. You graciously acknowledged him, but it has always stuck with me that there was such genuine respect and awe in his voice. That is why I started calling you Stoneman rather than just Stoner.
-Having you leave my home on Western Avenue at 1:45am after one of my post Memorial Day runs. You had me within a six pack of my all time offering of 14 cases of the finest, but begged off claiming to have an early meeting that you had to go home to prepare for!
-Engaging you in conversation about sushi, sake and Japanese beer. This led to KC and I not only joining you and a date, but McMackin and his former beloved as well as a group of your eclectic non-Hash friends at the Kyoto on Connecticut Avenue for a memorable evening. After everyone had a chance to peruse the sushi list, you asked if it would be a problem if you did the ordering. Naturally, no one objected, and what followed was tray after tray of fabulous sushi that started with a few innocuous rolls that led to eel, clam and whole fish, but concluded with your favorite of flying fish roe topped with a quail egg! All the while the Sapparo and sake flowed as you not only entertained your guests, but also kept the orders coming and the staff in step in Japanese.
-The run you hared while living on 8th or 9th Street just north of Mt.
Vernon Square nearby what is soon to be the new DC Convention Center. It was the biggest pack of white boys that 'hood had ever seen, but you had thankfully prepared them for our coming. Overall, it was the fastest paced run that I have ever been on and one, which the pack really stayed together!

I could go on, but more importantly, I want to apologize for not making more of an effort of seeing you and Julie when KC and I were in the Bay Area or Nevada City. And thanks for forgiving us for not making it to Beijing in June '89 to join you "for some truly interesting times in China".

Sayonara, Stoneman, I will never forget you.

On-on, Bobbee

From Michael Gallagher

My first memory of Bruce was the one that Peter Farrell reported on of his
run on the warm winter day at the Georgetown Boathouse. This was my first run with the Hash (as a guest of Peter’s). We have a great run, Bruce Stone did the announcements from the boathouse balcony, I did my required down/down and as Peter already reported, we collectively drank a ton of beer. I thought this whole Hash thing was so cool (thank you always to Peter).

Over the years I have come to know Bruce very much the way that Forbes so eloquently remembered him. Thanks to Peter, I got to know Bruce well enough to say that. He was truly a special and interesting guy. My last memory was at the VFW and Bruce talking to my wife about experiences in Brazil. Always a knowledgeable and interesting guy, I had been trying unsuccessfully for about a year to get Julie, Bruce and Susan the four of us together. I am glad for the time with him even though it was far too brief.

Bruce, you’ll be missed and always well remembered.

Farewell and on on,


Lake Tahoe *

Geographically, Lake Tahoe wows the mind. At 22 miles long and 12 miles wide, it's North America's largest high-mountain lake. Only the antennas atop Chicago's Sears Tower would break the lake's surface at its greatest depth of 1,645 feet. Its water, usually a cool 68 degrees, is as clear as the distilled stuff sold in stores; dinner plates have been spotted at 75 feet below. If you drained the lake, its contents would cover California to a depth of 14 inches. It was Bruce Stone’s final mortal place on this earth. It seems appropriate.

  • Excerpted from Thomas Elia, Cox News Service

Final Note

Peter Forbes and Bobbee and KC Holland attended the funeral in Syracuse. Julie added two hash shirts to the coffin, one from Weekend in the Mountains and one from the DCH3 1500th Run. Bob Holland’s notes from the funeral follow.

On On Bruce, you live in our thoughts.

The Funeral

– Bob Holland

It was only fitting that the day was gray and the skies threatened rain as KC, Peter Forbes and I joined the mourners who came to celebrate the life of David Bruce Stone. It was a simple but moving service led by the long time Pastor of the DeWitt Community Church who, through his well chosen words, tried to help those gathered come to grips with the premature passing of such an extraordinary man.

Bruce was first eulogized by Lynn, a life long friend, who read from e-mail that Bruce had sent him the day before he died. In the e-mail, which was totally unexpected, Bruce went into great detail about his family genealogy starting with the first Stone coming to Massachusetts in 1690. It was interesting to learn that his family once owned lands that today are part of Harvard and Dartmouth and that the push of civilization sent them into upstate New York in the search of better land and space. More intriguing though, especially in light of Bruce’s support of VFW 5633, we learned that he came from a long line of military men who gladly took up arms to defend this nation. He even had an Uncle Silas Stone who fought in the French and Indian War who was clubbed and scalped and left for dead, but who recovered and lived to the ripe old age of 68! Lynn then spoke of growing up with Bruce in DeWitt, going on to Princeton, rowing, taking separate paths and then getting back together in China in 1989.Theirs was one of those special relationships where they could be apart for years, but when their paths came back together it was as if the passage of time had not occurred.

The next to speak was Jeff who was not only a Princeton classmate and teammate, but was the man who lured Bruce to California seven years ago. At that time, he had just landed “the big contract” in Japan and he instinctively knew that the only person who could help him hold up his end of the bargain was Bruce. He wanted and needed, experience notwithstanding, the only man who could literally finish his sentences. Interestingly enough, this came at a time when Jeff had not spoken to Bruce for two years, and as he was trying to track him down Bruce called out of the blue and the rest they say is history. More importantly, Jeff spoke of the peace and happiness that Bruce came to experience in his life on Lake Tahoe with Julie where he could run and bike and row and totally embrace the outdoors that he loved so much.

The last speaker was Mark McMackin’s cousin Bob. He spoke of how Bruce always cared so much for his family and friends. How Bruce returned to DeWitt at the passing of his Father and Sister to help his Mother in that most trying of times and later moved in with Bob for three months and becoming a caretaker as he went through a bad patch with his multiple sclerosis and his wife battled with cancer. How during this last Christmas Bruce and Julie were in town looking in on a friend with cancer. It was a very poignant tribute from a lifelong friend.

After the service in the church, the mourners solemnly crossed the street to the church cemetery and gathered for a few final words and the recitation of the Lord’s Prayer at the final resting place of our dear friend.

Not long thereafter, the skies turned darker and the rains finally came, as the heavens seemed to share in our sadness and loss.