Afterword

“What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn’t happen much, though.”

—J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

TO MANY OF her friends and onlookers, Elaine Kaufman was the author, without the title, that they wanted to know.

Her language wasn’t always the King’s English: she was often “short, but not so sweet;” funny, irascible, New York sarcastic, observant, abusive and better informed than most newscasters and journalists.

She sat down to enjoy life with her favorite authors, politicians, artists, journalists: those she considered family.

At times she shared their food, without asking, and billed them for it. No one seemed to mind. It often seemed like the thing to do to criticize Elaine’s food. Perhaps that was because that there little else to criticize if you were nestled or ruffled in her ample nest, and longed to stay there.

Elaine’s was different. Elaine felt comfortable, moving from table to table, and making room at tables for those who were on their own. Some of us have had that opportunity, others never will.

So many of her friends miss her deeply and know that Elaine and Elaine’s shall never be replaced. She leaves behind writers, photographers, and other aspiring souls whose lives she has scrupulously sculpted. Their knowledge, anecdotes, skills, and introductions are welcomed by the next generation.

So long, Elaine.

Your legend lives on in books, both dog-eared and yet to be written.