"She drives herself relentlessly like she is being chased by a demon" -Lissa G

I first met Vanessa in 1988 or 1989, in Santa Fe, at my first clinical law conference. She had just arrived having climbed a mountain, I think with her son, Darrow, on her back. She was vibrant and red cheeked, already legendary and not only for her mountain climbing prowess and endurance although there was that too. For some reason, although we were barely friends, she took me to dinner at a friend's house in Albuquerque, and I remember driving past Los Alamos with her. It was a haunting moment to share.

Little did I know that within a year or so I would be recruiting her to become Pace Law School's Associate Dean for Clinical Education. She was in the midst of the CUNY debacle, and, though she hated to back down, ultimately she agreed to join us. Shortly after that, she shared Dr. Oberlander with me, an extraordinary obstetrician who, I remember, picked her up and took her home when she refused to stop working and get bed rest. He delivered all of our children in a kind, relaxed and masterful way. She trusted him, and I trusted him especially since he met Vanessa's high standards. I visited her at home during her enforced period of bed rest and in the midst of the Kennedy debacle (yes, there had been other debacles before the current one). A few years later we shared the sad passing of our colleague and friend, Barbara Salken, with Vanessa working tirelessly to help with Barbara's medical care. But what I remember most of that period is this: when Barbara was dying we were all gathered at the hospital, but she had left orders that we should not come in and see her. If you know or remember Barbara, you'll get that. Of course, Vanessa marched in anyway and remained with her, holding her hand.

To me this is emblematic of Vanessa: she does what is right, what she believes is right, with tremendous courage. It can be annoying and frustrating, but at the same time she is always inspiring. That may sound trite, but really, how often I have found myself asking if Vanessa would do something, answering yes, and then reminding myself that I, unfortunately, am not and cannot always be Vanessa. She sets a standard for herself and is demanding of herself. I often tried to live up to it and sometimes succeeded. But if I didn't, Vanessa never judged me for my actions or decisions.

Over our thirty-five-or-so-year friendship there were a lot of gaps. But I still consider it a thirty-five-or-so-year friendship. As we do with important, special people, from the moment I met her, I knew something had been added to my life.

That is my tribute to Vanessa. She drives herself relentlessly like she is being chased by a demon and in the course of doing so she helps, touches and inspires others.

Thank you, Vanessa, for every part of our saga.

Lissa G