Ted (Theodore) Yanow died at home in Woodstock on March 5, just shy of his 90th (April 26th) birthday. The cause was respiratory failure after a long illness. Ted and Marilyn, his wife of 56 years, had relocated to Woodstock to live with family and improve their health. Woodstock’s mountains, change of seasons, flowers and bird life became inspirations for Ted, an academic and poet, and Marilyn, an artist. A private ceremony was held later in the month.
Born in Manhattan, brought up in Westchester, Ted attended M.I.T. and then Boston University, switching from math and physics to poetry and studying under Robert Lowell, whose protégé he became. After moving to New York City, he taught math at The High School of Music and Art and at other schools. Later, his wide-ranging talents and interests brought him to a teaching position in Women’s Studies at a Brooklyn university.
As a student in sociology-anthropology with a PHd in Socio-Linguistics and a Masters in Social Work, Ted became involved in a number of pivotal movements. His focus: how language shapes human behavior and how to make a better world. During the Vietnam War period he served as the liaison between the peace movement and anti-war forces in the Democratic Party, with a major role in building a broad-based anti-war coalition, considered a “ brilliant strategist,” according to Percy Sutton, then Manhattan Borough president. He and Marilyn, equally committed, continued to work on conflicts in Central America in the ‘80s and the Apartheid Movement in the 1990s.
Ted and Marilyn had a bond made of stone, of mystical light, and high intelligence. Ted’s work in his last years was to ensure Marilyn’s artwork had a home and recognition and it is now housed at the Union Theological Seminary, where Marilyn studied, and his efforts were brought to fruition with a just-completed first show at the Leonard Street Gallery in Manhattan.
Ted is survived by sisters, Linda Goldsmith, Lady Lake, Fl., Jo Yanow-Schwartz, Woodstock, nieces, Laura Remen, Woodstock, and Pema Khorko, Queens, his nephew Bobby Mathisen, Woodstock, cousin Joe Quittner, dear friends Georgia Jack, Danny Coleman, Marti Roberge, Gail Hovey, and 10,000 books.
This is one of his later poems:
I see old Upanishads on the stairs
He sits his features undisclosed until
He pulls his robes off the face and
I see him closely
I do this passing at the back or from walking the large room where
The festivities happen
I see him again not so clearly but now his identity is disclosed.
And it is me.
Join the family! 
