Truly, It Is The End Of An Era!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                           If Dr. Roderick Bladel (or "Rod," as may called him) was not the longest running employee at The New York Public Library, he must be in the top ten.  At the Library Of Performing Arts, where I worked from 1981, until 2017, he was always there, and, as far as I am concerned, never seemed to grow old; he always looked the same to me.  This, from a man having worked at the branch for fifty-eight years!

                           So, when I got the announcement of his passing, on August 10, I was in shock.  Of course, we all die, but some I just never expected to.  Dr. Bladel was one.  Because of his dedication to the Theater Collection, where I worked with him for many years, clipping papers for him, and proud to do so, he gave the unit a gravitas it might not otherwise have had.  And now he is gone.

                            I often joked he would be found deceased slumped across the desk, scissors in hand, and in some ways that would have been fitting.  But Dr. Bladel was more than just the Theater Collection; during my early years there, I recall him taking a sabbatical to go somewhere in the Midwest and perform Moliere's "The Miser."  That performance is still preserved in The Theater On Film And Tape Collection (TOFT).  I have looked at the tape, and Dr. Bladel was quite an accomplished actor.  Yet he never forgot us, back East.  Because, while offstage, he was rapidly clipping theater and film articles from papers and sending them to us.

                           He was funny, he was frugal, and he cared.  When I announced my retirement, Dr. Bladel, stopped to congratulate me, saying "I'm going to have to try it some time."  I knew he never would.

                         His will be a missed presence, and the nail on a coffin of an era I was proud to be part of but that can never be replicated again.  I do have hope.

                           In the world beyond, where he rests peacefully, I know a room has been provided for him, along with publications and scissors, where he can eternally clip to his heart's content, sending down little bits of heaven to those still in the Theater Collection.

                            Rest In Peace, Dr. Bladel.  Those of us fortunate enough to have worked with you can indeed call themselves lucky.

                            I will always miss you.