Yesterday, at the Battell Memorial Chapel on the campus of Yale University, friends and admirers gathered to remember Irv Stolberg’s life. Many notable political figures were there including Attorney General Richard Blumenthal, New Haven Mayor John DeStefano, and State Senate Majority Leader Martin Looney. They all recalled aspects of his life as a State Representative, how he inspired others and his great work in restoring the state legislature as a co-equal branch of government and shepherded the building of the modern Legislative Office Building.

Yet there were many other important aspects of Irv that others described, his love of travel, music, sports, children, and his fierce competitiveness. The memorial started with some West African drumming, and later feature two of his young neighbors playing My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean on violin and cello, and then his son singing Ben Harper’s “With My Own Two Hands”.

Afterwards, at the reception, there was a slideshow accompanied by wonderful old folk songs of hope. It almost seemed like the place should burst forth with a spontaneous and heart felt rendition of Kumbaya.

It is unfortunate that the song has come to have negative connotations for some, just as the word liberal has been corrupted. For Irv Stolberg, at least in my mind, was one of the last great Kumbaya Liberals.

A few stories from the evening illustrated it. One was when Betsi Shays got up and spoke about the experience her husband, the former Congressman Chris Shays had when he first showed up at the General Assembly nearly thirty-five years ago. The young freshman State Representative rose to speak about clean election issues that everyone had campaigned on in those years right after Nixon, but that had not made it into the discussions in the legislature. As the legislators grew more antsy and contentious, Representative Stolberg, already a force to be reckoned with, spoke up on Representative Shays behalf and urged the legislators to listen to the freshman Representative and give him a fair chance to have his say. Mrs. Shays went on to speak about how Rep. Stolberg’s sense of bipartisan fairness reached across the aisle and was a strong influence on Rep. Shays for years to come.

Ed Rybczyk, who accompanied Irv to China many times told the story of a great reception the Chinese once had for the visiting dignitary. In a sign of respect to Mr. Stolberg, they closed the park where the reception was being held, and rode in past the crowds at the gate wishing to enjoy the park in a great procession.

Irv noted this, and at the dinner quietly observed to his host that parks look better with lots of people in them. That was Irv’s way. Always concerned for all the people. Strong and forceful, yet knowing how to speak the message in a way that would be heard.

At the end, Irv’s son Robb spoke about Irv’s final hours. On his deathbed at the Branford Hospice, a program Irv helped start, he said, “It’s time to go”. They asked him where, and he said, “to teach the students”. They asked, “and what should we teach them?” He responded, “teach them how to live”.

Irv taught many people how to live with forceful compassion for all people. If we had more people like Irv, words like liberal and kumbaya might not have negative connotations, and our world would be a much better place.

Now, Irv is in a better place, and it is up to us to teach the students how to live. Anyone want to join me in a heartfelt and forceful rendition of Kumbaya and then head out to teach the students how to live full compassionate lives?