Birth date: Mar 25, 1940 Death date: Apr 23, 2013
Anthony Arthur Pascal Easton, Anthony Arthur Pascal of Easton, Maryland passed away peacefully on April 23, 2013. Anthony (Tony) was born on March 25, 1940, in Glen Ridge, New Jersey to Mildred (Bonavita) and Anthony Ar Read Obituary
Judy:As a Fiji fraternity brother, who also started playing Cornell freshman football in 1958 with Tony, and then joined Tony and many other '62 Phi Gams in the pledge class of 36 great guys in 1959, I join you and your family with great thoughts of Tony.Most sincerely,Mike Duesing
My deceased husband, Duke, and Tony were classmates and fraternity brothers at Cornell. They both played football there. I send my condolences for your loss. May you be comforted by his having lived such a full life.
Thank you Ginna Tiernan for posting Tony's blog of just a few weeks ago. It is beautiful and shows a side of Tony I of which I was unaware. I am one of Tony's college fraternity brothers. After college I only encountered Tony at college reunions. It was always good to see him. I appreciated his help bringing some brothers we couldn't contact to our June 2012 fraternity reunion. It was certainly a privilege to see Tony one more time though we would not have guessed this at the time. To Judy and your three daughters, my wife and I want you to know that we hold you in our prayers, that you will find peace and strength from God in the days ahead. May God bless you, Jack Loose
Bob,Just learned of Tony's passing via a copy of his obituary sent to me by Fred Weidmann.It sounds like he lived a varied and full life and I am sure he will be missed by you and your family. My sincerest condolences.Bill
Godspeed, Tony.Lorraine Rossell.
My thoughts and prayers are with your family. Tony was a great guy and I always enjoyed our trips to VT and his stories. Love, Timmy
Judy, Jen, Laura & Lisa - our thoughts & prayers are with you today. I will always remember Uncle Tony for his warmth & generosity. Its been a privilege to be a part of the extended Pascal family. Peace be with you.Love H
My thoughts are with Tony's family and friends. May you find peace and inspiration in his memory.This is part of blog that Tony wrote just last week for the Master Naturalist Program he has been participating in at Adkins Arboretum. I hope you enjoy it.Experiencing Adkins' Habitats in Silence The Stream (the Little Sally) by Tony Pascal The frogs have awakened from their winter slumber. Every 20 feet or so, I see a frog sailing into the water. It looks like a Northern Green Frog that frequents shallow streams and wetlands of the Eastern Shore. Some launch from a height of 24 inches. The frog is about 3 inches long, so it would be like me jumping off a 40-foot bridge. No problem for the acrobatic frog. The stream now has more fish (fathead minnows) and water striders in residence. The water temperature is approaching 60 degrees, so the fish spawning has begun. It is a little windy today, sun warming up the woods. I see the black gnats, hatching in the stream. Flitting about the surface, the fathead minnows, in feeding position below me, slurp in the careless insects who hesitate too long on their fleeting moves across the water. Dancing Mayflies in the air. Next to the butterfly, I think the Mayfly is one of the most beautiful flying insects in the woods. My two pairs of Mayflies dancing above my head unfortunately share the heritage of being one of the most short-lived animals in the world. An adult lifespan is 30 minutes to one day! Their immature days are spent in streams and rivers, in the larval stage. They can be in this stage for a year or so, and they feed on algae or diatoms. Before they emerge, oftentimes in the late afternoon, as today, they will float along the surface, test their wings, and take off. This is the most vulnerable time for them, in more ways than one; the fish downstream come up to take the fly in the surface film, and the fish’s telltale dimple is known as “the rise.†The wind has stopped; the late afternoon sun feels great on my face. I lie back on a cushion of soft dead bracken, the tulip poplars rising 100 feet above me, their buds itching to pop. The sound of quiet. What could be better than this?
