celebrating the life of Claudia Long

February 7, 1950 – February 11, 2026

folks, yesterday I held a memorial service for the late Claudia Long, who was my wife for 41 years — and the love of my life for 46 — before passing away unexpectedly last February. today, instead of blathering on about politics and about how everything totally fucking sucks, I’d like to post the eulogy I wrote for her and delivered yesterday.

— jeff t.

* * *

thank you all for being here with me today.

one day in late February, 1980, I was sitting in my office at High Times magazine. a co-worker walked through my door and said ‘this is Claudia Long. she works here now, and I’m bringing her around to meet everyone.’

and I turned to look at this Claudia person, and my heart leapt — because standing there was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life. I fell in love on the spot. and it was the luckiest day of my life, because — miracle of miracles — Claudia felt the same way about me.

we instantly became an item, spending all of our free time together.

within the year, we were living together. three years after that, we were married. and in 1990, ten years after Claudia first walked through my office door, we took a long vacation, spending three weeks traveling through England, Wales and Scotland.

nine months after that vacation, our daughter Katie was born.

* * *

those, of course, are my favorite moments — but let’s back up the narrative a bit. Claudia Edith Long was born on February 7, 1950, in Los Angeles, California.

as a little girl, she always dreamed of growing up to be a writer. she would often tell me about how she would draw pictures of how she imagined herself in her grown-up future, living in New York City, wearing a little black dress and holding a martini glass.

after graduating high school and spending some time in college, she took on entry-level work in Hollywood. script girl, continuity, that sort of thing.

by the mid 1970s, finding those jobs unfulfilling, she packed up her car and drove across the country, determined to realize her lifelong dream of being a full-time writer — settling first in the Catskill Mountains near Woodstock, and then, a couple of years later, finally making that move to New York City, where she found work — first in local community newspapers, and then national magazines. and that’s how she came to walk through my office door on that momentous day in 1980.

* * *

I fell in love with Claudia because of her looks. yeah, I know — that’s very shallow. but I stayed in love with Claudia for 46 years because she was unlike anyone else I’d ever met.

she was smart, and she was funny. she was inquisitive and perceptive. she was interested in everything. she was adventurous and fearless. I was a kid from a small town in New Jersey, and she was sophisticated and worldly. she pushed me out of my comfort zone. sushi. she got me to try sushi. back then, nobody knew from raw fish. but Claudia did.

she was just so capable. she was always the first to know what was cool, and what was hip. among our social circle, it was always Claudia who found the great new restaurant to try. it was Claudia who found the fabulous, out-of-the-way places we vacationed. those of you who have been to our house know what an unique eye she had for antiques and decorating.

* * *

oh, and that writing career Claudia had wanted, ever since she was a little girl? she got that. she wrote for local newspapers, she was on staff at the Village Voice, and she freelanced for a number of magazines. she then moved from publishing to advertising, becoming an award-winning copywriter and creative director.

all that other stuff that the little girl in Los Angeles dreamed about — New York City, the cocktail dresses, the martinis — she got that, too.

how many of us can say that our childhood dreams came true?

* * *

Claudia was successful in the business world because she put in the hours — and when our daughter Katie was born in 1991, she brought that work ethic to motherhood, becoming, for the first two years of Katie’s life, a full-time mom. she found us a house in the Westchester suburbs, in an excellent school district. she found for Katie the best pediatrician, and the best preschool.

and when Claudia returned to work, she still put being a mother first. she accompanied Katie on girl scout trips, and she made sure we all went to museums and concerts as often as possible, ensuring Katie would get a cultural education as well as an academic one.

in the 2010s, with Katie married and off pursuing her own career, it was just the two of us again. Claudia retired from corporate life, but she never stopped writing. going though her desk drawers, after she passed, I found notebooks full of poems, outlines, journal entries, short stories, and notes for novels. her brain never stopped.

she also became an accomplished photographer.

all through her golden years, Claudia never lost her passion for new experiences. she spent the day before her passing researching small seaside villages in Mexico, where we might vacation this summer. there was so much she still wanted to achieve.

* * *

at the end of the day, what more needs to be said about two people who got to spend 46 years together? I loved Claudia and Claudia loved me. that’s pretty good, and I will love continue to Claudia every day for the rest of my life. I’d like to think that little girl back in Los Angeles, dreaming of cocktail dresses and martini glasses, would have approved.

look, I know I’ve painted a picture of the two of us having a perfect storybook marriage. of course, we didn’t. we were both very opinionated, and very stubborn people — and we could have the stupidest, most pointless petty arguments over the most superficial, unimportant things imaginable.

but I will tell you in all honesty: I would give anything — anything — to be able to have one of those stupid, pointless arguments with Claudia right now.

thank you all for being here with me today.

and thank you, really, to whoever it was who brought Claudia through my office door on that fateful day in 1980. you have no idea what you started.

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here’s your daily reminder that I can be found on Blue Sky at this link.

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this is going to be my closing message for the foreseeable future:

practice self-care. do what you need to do to keep sane. if that means you need to disengage with my daily posts for a while, I get it. this community of ours will still be here when you return.

to all the people who have signed on in the days since the election, welcome aboard. settle in as we all try to deal with the shitfuckery that’s ahead of us.

we are all in this together, and we are all here for each other.