Ezra Titus

1966 – 2009

Obituary

by

Charlie Boxer

 

Born on July 23, 1966, he attended Poughkeepsie Day School, Onteora and graduated  NYU (pre med)  with honors.

 

As a boy Ezra leaned towards the wild life. He admired nothing more than wildness and sincerity, and committed himself deeply to the life of an adolescent frontiersman. The many adventures he embarked on as a boy became the material of his first stories, and as he grew older he learned to beguile his time with this gift for writing in solitude, and embroidering reminiscence till it shone in the dark.

 

His stories are surely some of the finest of their type and age. To his disappointment this was barely recognized. His masterpiece the novel Misty’s Lounge became an internet self-publishing sensation in 2004, while a small press in London printed two editions of some of his best very short stories, titled Vacuuming with Carolina  and Toe-Hopping Actifed.

 

He feared death, yet never forgot those moments of finding glory in the overcoming of the fear of death. This is his magnificent strain, and combined with his love of beauty, makes the testament of his finest work, as in this exquisite final paragraph of one of his stories, about meeting a girl whose life he had saved many years earlier:

“Yeah!”, she shouted in victory to the world, “We got away with  everything!”. We both laughed. We knew where that phrase came from. Maybe we  were still invincible after all. She held her arms up and spun around,  smiling at the stars the way someone smiles when they’ve lived through  something very hard. She loved being alive. When I saw that, I remembered how  good it was. I was glad she reminded me. Arms still aloft, she looked at me.  Her eyes beamed youth in its greatest expression of strength, light and  perfection. There were no more scars inside Danielle. “It’s gonna’ be a  sweet memory,” she said.

 

 

Ezra died July 30th, 2009. Place of death: Tampa, Fla.

 

 

Survived by his mother Libby Fagen, sister Amy Helm Collins, Nephew Lavon Henry Collins, and Step Father Donald Fagen, all whom he loved dearly.

 

All his friends in Woodstock, and all the people across the world who loved him and read his stories, will miss him for as long as they live.