From Pavlina Tcherneva

Memory of Shona

It was 1996. Having just completed my junior year in college, I took a summer internship that would eventually change my own personal and professional life in important ways, take me to the University of Missouri-Kansas City, and lay the grounds for a cherished friendship with the Wray family.

Pavlina and the Wrays in NY, 2006The first time I met both Shona and Randy was during that same 1996 internship at an economics conference.  As a college student I had read Randy’s book and articles and was very surprised when I met him. He was a young economist with an even younger wife (for some reason I imagined all respected economists to be aging and with thick reading glasses).  Shona was lovely—beautiful, charming, with that unforgettable smile everyone talks about, and also very VERY pregnant.  With one baby in the stroller (Shane) and another one on the way, she was radiant. I vividly remember her wearing a blue dress with white polka dots and a white head band.  I was immediately impressed during our first introduction when I watched her speak to Shane in Italian. Then Alina was born and over the years, I marveled at this beautiful family and the sweet, fun, and smart children they raised.

Alina, Pavlina, and Shona, Florence 2011Over the last few months, my husband and I got to see the Wrays in Florence and ring in the New Year together at our NY home.  Always generous and thoughtful, Shona brought lentils to the party, which is apparently an old Italian tradition that brings health and prosperity during the new year to those who share in it. How very sad and unfair it is that she did not live long enough to enjoy her own health and prosperity. And though her life was cut short, it was by all indications a rich one. And we are all richer for knowing her—as she left an indelible mark on every person who came in contact with her.  There are far too many memories to recount but my family and I grew to love the Wrays and will remember Shona for her charisma, intelligence, kindness, and generosity.  As for me, she will always be that radiant and charming pregnant young woman in the blue polka dot dress from the first time I met her 16 years ago.

From Lura Kilpatric

Memories of Shona

I'm Randy's aunt, though he is actually 3 months older than me. I've known Shona from a distance since he brought her for a visit when they were living in Denver. But I didn't get to really know her until the summer of 2010 when I came to NY for a visit. We went somewhere every day and Shona was always the tour guide. I've visited NY a few times now and it just seems so strange that she won't be here. I'll never forget an excursion she and I took to Manhattan one time. She had some research to do at a library, and I wanted to see an exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum, so we each went to our destinations and met up for lunch and exploration. Guide book in hand, Shona read to me about the history of the West End, while we sat in a little Greek cafe. We walked and walked, and had so much fun. She spotted a huge bouganvilla that was climbing up the side of a building somewhere in the West End. She was quite taken with the size of the thng, and since then I can't see one without thinking of her. I bought a little bouganvilla and planted it last week in her memory. I hope it grows huge and climbs up the side of my house.
I'm visiting NY right now, and will be here for a month to help out and keep the kids company while Randy travels. Exploring Manhattan will never be the same, though I did find her guide book and plan to take it with me when I go tomorrow.

From Ruth O'Brien

Shona's life (DU, NY)

Like everyone who knew Shona, I am shocked by her sudden and premature death, and I am greatly saddened for Alina, Shane, and Randy. There is no good time to lose a parent, but having lost one myself as a child, I know this opens a hole in your heart that can never be filled, no matter how many great friends, family members, and surrogates you find. Compound that truism exponentially with Shona, the mother, and the hole becomes even bigger, a black hole perhaps, for her two children. I know that Randy, as a loving father and Shona’s life partner, will step up and provide for all his children’s emotional needs, needs that get so complex in adolescence, when they are so close to being independent.

Shona and I shared a couple of worlds, along with their attendant anxieties, since we moved from Denver to New York at the same time, even though we didn’t work at the same university. Together we learned to cope with dual academic career difficulties in Denver and New York; mixing research and publishing while raising babies and young children; and not compromising, even if it means taking the uphill path the whole way. Shona put such a happy face on everything that it never mattered what lay in her path.

I have a snapshot of each one of these moments to share.

Click to read more ...

From Yeva Nersisyan

I knew Shona as a student of Prof. Randall Wray and so did every other student in the Economics department. They would occasionally host dinners for us, starving graduate students, which were always perfect.

I got to know Shona a little better when I stayed with the Wrays in their Redhook home for about two weeks a couple of years ago. She was such an interesting person to be around; always had some interesting story to tell. Just being around her you learned so much.

Her hospitality was beyond limits. One thing I remember very well was her teaching me how to cut a cooked chicken into pieces. She was an excellent cook and I remember watching her cut that delicious rosemary baked chicken with such an ease. I told her I could never learn to do that. The excellent teacher that she was she told me it was easy, and started to teach me how to do it step by step.

My thoughts are with her beautiful children Alina and Shane. They are Shona's gift to all who know them.

Yeva Nersisyan

From Marc-Andre Pigeon

Dear Randy,

I found out about Shona's passing last week from Ajit but after discussion, thought it best to wait before reaching out.  I was planning on writing something this weekend -- or even braving a phone call (I always worry about what to say) -- but happened upon this site and was so very moved by your beautiful tribute to Shona.  It made me reflect on my brief but memorable encounters and the urge to write was overwhelming.

I can still see her in your Red Hook home, all energy, light and kindness in a world that seems to want to strip that away.  I can still remember the warmth of her greeting when I first arrived in Red Hook, a little afraid, a lot uncertain.  I can still remember the time, at your place, when Shona introduced me to the magic of pesto. I was immediately won over and devoured all that was on offer.  She quickly offered to make more despite my protestations.  I observed as she blended these things called pine nuts with a substance referred to as olive oil and an herb known as basil with this strange device called a hand blender.  Needless to say I was impressed with this magic and rushed out and bought a hand blender almost immediately afterwards.   

I think you were late for that particular supper so it was just me, her and the kids but she made me feel like I was part of your family, a family.  Always.  For a little guy from North Ontario, that made all the difference especially as I struggled through my breakup with Danielle, especially as I struggled to digest this big brave world of the United States of America, especially as I struggled to make sense of this discipline of economics that, upon until I met you, seemed devoid of humanity or even reason.

So my heart goes out to you and the kids for this huge loss.  For what it's worth, I have every confidence they will get through this and prosper.  I lost my father when I was 18, my sisters 15 and 13, and my younger brother 10.  With the ballast of a strong and truly inspirational mother -- like you as a strong and inspirational father, it all worked out.  I'd be lying if I said I don't still miss him, still don't think how much I'd like to be able to, as you say, experience that wonderful evolution from son-father to friendship.  But there is one thing I know for certain which I hope will ease some of that realization: your children will carry Shona's light with them, one way or another, feel a responsibility to it, hold onto it when they need to, and always be grateful that their beautiful mother chose wisely in the father they still have.

Take good care Randy.  My thoughts are with you.

Marc-Andre