A gift gone too soon

  He was one of the few people I have ever known whom everybody liked -- and who seemed to like everybody. That was Jay Bonfatti's wonderful gift. It was a gift he shared with all of us here at The Buffalo News, and with many people in the greater community, for the two decades that he lived here and worked as a reporter.

   Now that gift he gave to all of us is gone. Jay passed away in his sleep Wednesday night  while on a family vacation in Martha's Vineyard. He was just 52. His death has devastated those of us at The News who knew him as a colleague and who valued him as a friend. He was our Falstaff, our John Belushi, a guy whose plus-size body could barely contain his enormous heart and his bursting good humor. He was, as a colleague noted during an impromptu in-house memorial this morning, the heart and soul of our newsroom. We loved him, and we will miss him terribly.

  Jay's world extended far beyond the newsroom, to the world of the music he loved, to the countless folks whose lives he touched, to the numerous friends -- nobody was better at making them -- he had in all walks of life. Jay was like a crossover artist in music, whose appeal transcends boundaries of race, age, class and religion. But Jay's milieu was not music --although he was handy on guitar -- but people, and human nature, and the boundaries that sometimes divide our lives. Jay did not see any of those boundaries. All he saw was human beings, and the best aspects of each of them. He never married, or had children. But there was no lack of love in his life. It was as if we all were part of his extended family -- with his smiling, Buddha-like countenance at the center. And now, from here on, we will have to figure out a way to go on without him.

   Jay's life touched many lives. We would love to hear from the people who knew him, who remember him, who would like to share their thoughts of a man who died way too young, but who never grew old.

-- Donn Esmonde

Comments

[Phil Gianficaro]

I was saddened to learn of Jay's passing last month. I knew him when he was the AP sports writer in Philadelphia while I was working as a columnist at a suburban Philadelphia paper.
I don't need to tell anyone reading this that Jay was always smiling and the heartbeat of any room. He loved music -- good music -- and would debate you on such at the drop of a hat.
I hadn't seen Jay since he took a position at the Buffalo News 10 years ago, but he was the kind of person whose goodness can never be forgotten.

[Mark Wallinger]

I just heard about Jay's death, so my comments may seem late, or an odd afterthought.
Still, I wanted to contribute.
He deserves that.
I have many pleasant memories of Jay, but two stick in my mind. As a young reporter in Syracuse at The Post Standard, I worked with Jay. He was cool. And he was as fun to hang out with as he was cool.
I remember driving back from a Penn State football game with Jay. As songs came on the radio, he instantly processed, cross-referenced, categorized, ranked and placed each song in historical contest. We would hear a current song and within 60 seconds Jay would say something like "Chuck Berry rip-off" and hit the button to switch stations. He didn't do this one, or a dozen times. He did it for the entire drive!
"Chuck Berry rip-off!"
Click.
"Dylan wanna be."
Click.
"If you want that kind of song, listen to Robert Johnson."
Click.
Now, for a while (say the first hour) this was only mildly annoying. But after the second hour (I'm not kidding) it become a sneak peak into Jay's encyclopia-like musical mind. And I got fascinated. Between the instant reviews, I would be some questions to get a deeper idea of what he was thinking, or what wavelength he was on. Fascinating. A musical historian, of course (but everyone knew that about Jay), but if you listened and looked deeper you saw a man with so much knowledge that it allowed him to instantly link the past with the present; the hip with the original; the trend with the historical context. Fascinating.
So, it wasn't a ride home from Penn State. It was musical education 101 from Jay Bonfatti, musical Ph.D of the highest degree. I'm 50 now, and I can say that day was on a very real level, the beginning of my journey into music. And it is always nice starting out on a journey like that with the highest professorial teacher. He showed patience as he explained Robert Johnson (and his deal with the devil at the crossroads), but you could tell there was so much more to talk about. In a single afternoon I learned more about music than I ever had ... in quick blurbs of dialogue, given rat-a-tat from the professor (while he was driving) dumbed down for the kid in the passenger seat asking the dumb questions.
For a while, I actually took over hitting the buttons on the radio, to see if he could keep. He did, of course, easily. he was that good.
My other story about Jay is for his friends, who knew how much fun he was. I was a bachelor and hosted a Thanksgiving turkey dinner among single people. Some had to work on the paper that day (a small shift). Others didn't, but couldn't be with their families that day, so came over my place. The group was ... in a very happy place. Those of us who had to work stayed "above the fray" in terms of certain appetitites. Jay led the other group. When we went to get up from the table, Jay got a call from his boss. Somehow, he had gotten his wires crossed and didn't realize he had to work. He did. So, he came into the newspaper with us. Now, Jay was a man who could certainly light up a room, but to see him try and maintain a professional composure when he had planned to be at the apartment leading the group staying behind was a very comical sight. Needless to say, Jay wobbled a bit; sometimes found it difficult to focus; might have had trouble thinking of the right headline, or the right turn of phrase that night. Those of us who liked him so much had a great time watching the struggle as he tried and tried, but really couldn't do much more than sit at his desk and wonder how he could have gotten his signals crossed. Part of him knew he was missing a great party back at my place. Part of him knew he wasn't the exact picture of the perfect reporter at that moment. All of us enjoyed every minute. A lovable guy not quite on his game, fun to watch, funnier to know. That was Jay!

I'm sure he in rock-'n-roll heaven right now watching Hendrix on the guitar and standing next to someone who's up there with him, who was an average talent saying: "See, that's what you should have been going for the whole time ... not what you were doing, but something like THAT!"
I only hope the guy has enough sense to agree with Jay.

Mark Wallinger
mwallinger@columbus.rr.com

[Donna Cassata, Associated Press-Washington, D.C.]

Jay Bonfatti was one of those special reporters when I started with The Associated Press in 1983. He was a solid newsman and a great human being, two qualities that sometimes seem rare in journalism these days. Way back when _ it's hard to believe it's 25 years _ bosses in Albany AP decided to send Jay to Buffalo to cover the Bills and hired me to replace Jay in Albany. It was always a treat hearing Jay's voice at the other end of the telephone line, whether he was calling from the press box or handling a breaking news story like a gas explosion in Buffalo. Jay would always get right on it. No drama, no balking, just doing his job and doing it well. I was stunned to learn of his death at the too young age of 52. I extend my condolences to his family and to the many friends he made in Buffalo. He clearly was loved, and that's an extraordinary legacy.

[Tom S.]

Just a short thank-you to the Bonfatti family and Jay's friends in Buffalo, especially Phil Fairbanks, for the wonderful afternoon at the Lafayette Tap Room. Naturally, even in absentia Jay touched our lives, as we reconnected with old friends from our Syracuse days. While we never had the daily interaction with Jay that his Buffalo colleagues and friends enjoyed, both Patti and I mist over every time either of us hears Jay's booming voice echoing in our heads. Our one hope is we never lose the ability to hear it. On second thought, that's an impossibility, and it's something we will always treasure. Thanks, Jay.

[Sandy Heaney]

Who else but Jay could take me back to my childhood with the Italian Donkey song on one of the Christmas CDs? I will be forever grateful...for all the special music...but especially for the Italian Donkey!

[Jim Heaney]

The funeral is over, so is the Irish wake, and his desk here at The News has been cleared out. There's a finality to his passing that is unnerving, and very, very sad.

What I miss most about Jay is his presence. I've been at The News 22 years and have seen many people come and go. Many leave without a trace. A handful have left a real void. Jay leaves a canyon.

He was one of a handful of genuine characters who enlivened the newsroom. A lot of people posting remembrances to this blog have rightfully noted Jay's generosity of spirit. Like everyone else, I'll miss that.

But what I really miss is our daily, sometimes hourly, exchange of insults. We only had a handful between us and we repeated them over and over and over again. They were always good for a laugh - to us, anyway - and we often followed up by sarcastically complimenting each other on our originality. My work day just isn't the same.

Rest in peace, my friend, although in my memories, you'll never be quiet.

[Arb]

Jay's whole Boston Biological Family (he had many different families as you can see from these comments) wants you to know how much it means to be able to read about Jay Jay in this blog.

We had a happy return from our sad trip Buffalo to our Massachusetts homes. Jay's important stuff (Albums, CDs, and his Wall Art mostly) has been safely unloaded at Mom & Dad's. Dad plans on setting up a "Jay" room.

Thanks to all for such a great time at the Lafayette Tap Room and I can't think of a better send off for the epitome of the saying "you get what you give".

I met so many of you and someone said that maybe Jay was an Angel sent to us. I am sure he'd have none of this but just remember our "Angel" is stiil watching for us.

Arb Bonfatti

[JKW]

Having met Jay through the Stabas and their annual Meat Day party, I ran into Jay far less frequently than most members of his Buffalo family. When I started to calculate how long I had known him, I thought how cool it was that we had had eight years together; but then I got to thinking more clearly: I had only seen Jay and had the good fortune of his company only one weekend a year at Stabas. Therefore, I can only say with certainty that I "knew" Jay for a grand total of two weeks. But, as all of you know better than me, it felt like much more.

I was one of those many, many people who Jay made feel like he was a lifelong friend. Our Meat Day hangovers were always made much more bearable by the presence of his iPod and running commentary.

I particularly enjoyed the uncertainty of not knowing what song would be spit out next. And I think he relished my confusion as I sat there attempting to divine the artist or song that was playing...offering helpful hints along the way (he seemed inordinately pleased that I pulled Bix Beiderbecke out of my ass one night in response to his clue of "B.B." It was Bunny Berrigan in the background, but I got that big, welcome grin nonetheless).

Recipe swapping, hangover detox and musical Jeopardy will never be the same.

I'm gonna miss that guy.

[BobbyCat]

Wow, what a legacy.

[Donn Esmonde]

A half-hour after hearing of Jay's death, as I sat in a newsroom where stunned silence was sporadically broken by sobs, I was asked by my editor Stan Evans if I could write a blog about Jay. I will forever be grateful for having the opportunity, the honor and the privilege to do so. The thoughts that burst from my battered soul at that moment, as I tried to encapsule in a few paragraphs the force of nature that was Jay, is the first of this vast collection of recollections and remembrances that stand as a testament to who he was and how much he was loved.

It has been a hard week. I went to Jay's wake Tuesday night, and met perhaps the most loving, caring family I have ever encountered -- and with that, got an understanding of where someone like Jay comes from. On Wednesday I helped to carry the big guy home, representing -- along with Jay's great friends Phil Fairbanks and Bud Anzalone -- the Buffalo contingent among his pallbearers. And I kept writing, just to make myself feel better when nothing else seemed to work. I did not at first know what to do with what I ended up with -- eulogies do not make readable columns -- so I am posting it here in tribute to our wonderful friend:

Most people are lucky enough to have a handful of people through the course of their lives whom they would consider to be a great friend. Jay’s life was full of great friends – he had a legion of them. There was, I think, a simple reason for that.

For most of us, our relationships with others -- our degree of closeness or connection -- is limited by the usual measures and boundries: what we have in common, personal chemistries, character strengths and flaws. Jay was the only person I have ever known who somehow rose above all of that, for whom none of it mattered. Instead, he saw only the best in each of us, and in so doing he brought out the best in all of us.

More than a gift or a talent, I think that was Jay’s genius, it is what made him one of the few people in life who is a category unto himself. That enormous generosity of spirit he extended to virtually everyone is something I have never seen in another human being. Jay took sociability and turned it into an art form. He was the human equivalent of a campfire; people naturally gathered around him, drawn to his warmth and humor and glow.

He was, as his friend Bucky Gleason often told him, “stuck at 12” – a large man who, to his enormous credit, never lost a little boy's sense of fun and awe and openness. The rest of us talk about keeping in touch with our inner child. Jay’s challenge was keeping in touch with his inner adult.

In the minutes after learning of his death, amidst all the pain and panic and disbelief, came the horrible realization that the next 10, 20, 30 years of my life, of all of our lives, will be lived without Jay – the smirky grin and the deep-fried voice and the sense of fun that was always right on the surface, ready to be triggered by whomever came into his orbit. And I think that is where we find ourselves now, feeling lost by his loss, knowing that we are forced to make the rest of our individual journeys without him. Our lives from here on will be lessened by his absence. As much as he would not have wanted it, I think that the days and weeks to come will be marked by hurt and despair.

But I think there will come a time when we will look at this in a way that is more true to his spirit and his life. There are billions of people on this planet. The great majority of those people never received the gift of Jay Bonfatti. They never had Jay look them in the eye and deliver his standard line, his trademark stamp of friendship, “Don’t go changin’”. They never felt the joy rise in their heart as he lumbered toward them, a giant ball of childlike eagerness. They never saw him hand-crank his single-finger response to any good-natured crack, or heard his infamous Teddy Kennedy-at-Chappaquiddick impersonation (“I dove repeatedly into the murky water”).

Think how lucky each of us is, among all of those billions of people in the world, to have had this force of nature in our lives for all of the years we did. I feel blessed to have known him for a quarter-century, to have in the years when I was single counted him as my best friend, and to feel that we were never less than great friends even after our paths outside of work crossed far less. I think that, in time, the overwhelming sense of gratitude for having known this incredible guy for however long each of us did will overwhelm the hurt of having lost him so soon.

It is ironic that it was his heart in the end that failed him, because he had the largest heart of anyone I have ever known. There was a place in it for literally everybody, and in return there was a place in each of our hearts for him. But if his heart truly was weak and damaged, maybe what carried it, what kept it beating day after day for as long as 52 years, was all of the love inside of it.

As time goes on I slowly realize that the true joy and reward in life comes from caring and connections and closeness with other people -- what they bring to your life, and what you in return add to theirs. The more I think about that, the more I begin to understand how rich and full and gratifying Jay’s life was. Translate the worth of that into dollars, and the guy was no less than a billionaire.

No one gave as much to as many people as Jay did. No one got as much love and affection and warmth from as many people in return. I know that it filled him, just as he filled us. By any standard measure, he packed a dozen ordinary lifetimes of caring and connection into his 52 years. He was truly a lucky man. But as I sit here, writing through the tears, all I can think about is how lucky I was – how lucky we all were -- for having known him.

Thanks, Jay, for each and every moment.

[Bucky Gleason]

The healing process will take some time, but everyone should take comfort knowing services for Jay were exactly what we would expect: a mixture of profound sadness, love and laughter, and peace. The only regret was Jay being the center of attention without hearing his booming voice. His funeral was the only way that could happen, I guess.

Western New Yorkers who haven’t met his family will understand Saturday where he obtained his greatest qualities. They are a collection of classy, selfless people who were acutely aware of Jay’s place on earth and understood that he needed to be shared with the world. You feel Jay in every one of them, and every one of them in each other.

It’s the mark of a terrific family.

There can be no greater loss for parents than having a child pass before they do, no matter their age. Jay’s mother and father, upon accepting condolences for their family, were quickly offering them to his friends. His brother Andrew thanked Buffalo for nurturing Jay.

Funny, but it was the other way around. Jay nurtured us.

Ultimately, he did in death what he did so often in life. He linked us all.

[Natalie Olari]

i love jay bonfatti he was one of my moms best friends he was very nice and kind whenn ever4 he came over i am only 11 and his aptarpment was amazing thanks for all his awesome videos on youtube. i hope he is a happy man in heven thanks jay :)

[Fai Borowiec]

There are very few people we meet in the course of our lives who embody all the qualities we wish we ourselves possessed. Jay was one of those people.

Continually demonstrating kindnesses, which just seemed to come completely natural to him, he represented all that can be uplifting, nurturing and joyous in human beings.

He set an amazing example. Not only for countless adults he touched in his life, but especially for the many children who came to know him as Uncle Jay and Mr. Jay.

His joyous spirit was like a magnet for children, and they just adored him. I am so grateful my nephew, Jackson, and my niece, Victoria, were able to experience Jay’s infectious laugh, beaming smile and limitless affection.

I am only sorry my younger nephew, Oscar, will not have been old enough to be able to remember Jay playing with him. Tossing him into the air and eliciting the uncontrolled laughter that Jay so easily drew out of children.

I know Jay will be watching over all of us, as we try to understand why such an amazing person was taken from us. But I know, most of all, he will be watching over all the children in our lives. And whenever I hear one of them laugh uncontrollably, I will always think of Jay and smile.

[Jerry Sullivan]

The memorial is from 1 to 4 p.m. Saturday at the Lafayette Tap Room.

[Tom S.]

This may not be the best place, but we are planning to visit Buffalo this weekend to be at Jay's memorial on Saturday(it's mentioned early in the posts). Does anyone at the News have specific information yet? It's been hard to get. Any details would be greatly appreciated. Patti and I look forward to meeting many of you, and to swap some of Jay's amazing stories (we have a few great Philly tales to tell).

[Bruce Taylor]

There are people you meet only briefly in this life whose personalities and warmth are so huge they immediately leave a lasting impression and form a bond that you remember for the rest of your life. Jay was definitely one of those rare people. As a news photographer working in western NY in the 80's I encountered Jay Bonfatti on several occasion. He remains one of my fond memories as a larger than life person at Rich Stadium covering the Bills. You've met your final deadline, my friend, rest.

[Leo Roth]

the news came in a phone call ... no, not Jay ... and so it is true, as Billy Joel sang, only the good die young.
Donn Esmonde, you said it best, Jay was a universal lover of human beings and that is what I will remember most about our friend ... that and the wacky hijinks... like the time we "wrestled'' in the middle of Main Street in Fredonia after one of those late-night pub crawls during Bills training camp; like the time he got us into the Pen & Pencil Club during his Philly days (he was the unofficial Mayor of that city, too); or crashing at one of his rental properties in Buffalo - at least that's what he told us the place was! Jay was a gift. A super journalist but an even greater person. God bless his family, and thank you for sharing him with us Western New Yorkers.
Leo Roth, Rochester Democrat and Chronicle.

[Jack Sullivan]

Jay was a great man with a loud voice.Huge hugs and great meatloaf.He is in the chieftains hall of fame and is the Babe Ruth of softball.I am only 10 years old but I can still honestly say I knew him my whole life.He was one of my dad's(Jerry Sullivan)best friends.He was my favorite of all my dad's friends.I'll miss him very dearly and hope he has a good time jammin with the man upstairs!

Jack Adam Sullivan

[steve haykel]

I may have been the last buffalo person to have been in the presence of our late great friend, Jay Bo. It was a friday night. He was leaving the next morning to go to Syracuse for his fantasy football draft, and then he was off to Cape Cod after that.

I live a short block away from Jay, and would frequently (as in at least twice a week for the last five or so years) find myself over there hanging out, listening to music, participating in the guitar jam that has been frequently mentioned in the many posts that have preceded mine... I just enjoyed being in his presence. He was, to keep it simple, nice to be around.

I am twenty or so years the junior of Jay Bo, yet we were great friends. Both of us being bachelors, our proximity to one another, and our many shared interests made us an easy fit. I met so many great people through Jay over the years - I have to give a nod to the regulars who were frequent visitors to his Norwood pad - Cappy, Phil and Bud, Andy Bailey, Wiszey, Jim Pierotti (forgive me if I spelled your name wrong), Schaef the giutar doctor, Doc Mike as he is known, Strick, Mike Groll, Dave Staba, Sully, the list goes on and on......I apologize if i left anyone out. I would also like to mention the piano player Chris from Boston who visited a few times, very cool guy. I will even give a nod to Don Heuple who introduced me to Jay some years ago. All of these people are now my friends and acquaintances and that is all because of Jay Bo.

Anyway, that Friday night, August 22nd, was a night like many hundreds that came before it. It was just Jay Bo and I, sitting on the back porch as darkness was spreading over Buffalo. His fantasy football draft documents were spread on the back porch table, as he was preparing for the following day's draft. We sat down for half an hour or so and listened to music from his ipod and drank a beer. I know it was a 70's Boston band that he wanted to turn me on to. It was a live album, down and dirty rock-n-roll, I had a passing familiarity of the band but the name escapes me at the moment. Anyway, Jay was just rocking out to this music. Finally, as one track ended and the other had yet to begin, i said something like - Jay, I gotta get going. I believe we let one more track go and then he escorted me out. I told him to have a safe trip and that i'd see him in a week.

That was the last I saw of Jay Bonfatti, but his spirit will remain with me, I would like to think, forever.

[Liz]

I can't believe this Jay! You're just too young to be gone! You were one of the co-ops at the Ledger when I was young too, trying to figure out how to live up to the incredible gift of being a reporter. Even as a student you were already one of the best -- a great writer and a kind human being. I knew you had made Buffalo your home -- it's where I grew up but I'm out west now. I always thought Buffalo got lucky when you arrived. And I always thought I might bump into you there. Not to be. My heart goes out to your family and friends.

[Jeffrey Brodeur]

Here's what made me smile reading all these posts - Jay treated us all the same but had the rare ability to make you feel like you were the only person in the world getting that special treatment.

I'm glad to know so many of us were touched by him - somehow it makes the hole created by his loss a little easier.

[Jay C.]

Jay was a wonderful person. Through High School, College and Amirican Luch times he was one of the happiest people I knew. Alway saw thi high side of life. I will miss you Jay. God Bless

[Lauren Mariacher]

One night during my summer internship at the News, I was working late on a story at my desk, a few away from Jay's. He must have noticed me getting frustrated and decided he would wave me over to his desk for help. I actually didn't have a choice, he just said. "Get over here." He read over my story and gave me suggestions on how I could "spice it up." I specifically remember him saying over and over again "You have to make it your own though. I can give you suggestions but you have to fit them into your style." That's how I remember Jay- the kind of person who only asked you to be yourself. He was truly one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable and unforgettable.

[Scott Stephens]

Jay's brothers and sisters here in the Northeast Ohio Newspaper Guild are shocked and saddened by his sudden death. Jay's endless enthusiasm and booming voice have highlighted Guild events for years. His death leaves a void that will be hard to fill.

[Cindy Ski]

Well today is the day it is really hitting me hard. the first day back at work where Jay was not on vacation anymore and supposed to be back at his desk, a mere 8 feet from mine. He was just on vacation last week! He'll be back, I kept telling myself. Instead the black and white balloons that were placed at his desk last week in memoriam are still there, and my friend is not coming back. The balloons make me think of all the times he'd come barreling into the newsroom with a big bunch of red balloons (we used them as a way to get our "message" across for Guild issues) and I would help him distribute them across the room.

On Sunday, many of us News folks gathered in honor of Jay - sharing stories and grieving together. It was a great help to me, and I am sure many others, but for some reason I was still in denial. Then I asked: "Do you think Jay had any idea how much he MEANT to all of us? How he touched all our lives in the simplest of ways yet it meant SO much??" And both Phil and Bucky began nodding their heads and said "Yes, I think he did. And if he didn't, I think he really knows it now."

I have to believe that. And I do. We all need to live in your example and try to make each other's lives a little brighter every day. I am going to miss your wonderful smile that greeted me (sometimes in and out several times a day, but always like it was the first time) and the way you bellowed: Hellooww Cin-daaay!!

Obviously Meat Day will never be the same without you, that is where we first met (I was not working at the News at that point) and so when I came to the News, although I did know some people already, when I saw you, it really made me feel welcome and more at ease to see your smiling face.
These posts from everyone are so wonderful and a true testament to the unique and outstanding person you were and how you touched the lives of everyone you met...be it once or a million times. That is such an amazing gift to have, and I am so glad that I was one of those many people in your life. We will all miss you terribly, but your memory will live on through all OUR wonderful memories of you. Hope the jam sessions are "heavenly" where you are, I can still hear you singing "Honkytonk Woman" loud and clear. Much love to you and your family.

[Jim Engelhardt]

As a former assistant athletic director/sports information director at St. Bonaventure University (1980-96), I had the pleasure of working with Jay when he was an Associated Press sports reporter, and he often made the trip to Olean to cover the Bonnies. He was always fair and accurate, but the most memorable times were post-deadline when Jay would regale us locals at Angees Restaurant with his good humor, comedic relief, and "everyman" persona. Pax et Bonum to a good and decent man.

[Jaana Bonfatti]

Jay Jay...

From as far back as I can remember my jay jay was always there for me. I can't count how many times he took time out of his hectic home visits to make special time with each of us. My brothers and sisters and i would get so excited every time we found out jay jay was coming home. We always knew we were in for a treat, the usual trips to the go carts, the tea room, I could go on and on...as we grew up that never changed, he spent time with each of us. We would have our talks or just hang out. He was not just an uncle but a close friend. We will all miss him dearly.

In a recent trip up to visit Jay, I asked him if he would ever move back home. He told me that buffalo and boston were both his homes. I don't think I really understood that until now. This is a true tribute to Jay.

We will all miss you Jay Jay

[Natalie Morera]

Jay was a celebrity judge in the Taste of Buffalo this past summer. He told me his position confirmed how small Buffalo was because he was no celebrity. Looking at this blog, I'm starting to doubt that. He underestimated himself.

I was a summer intern a few weeks ago and I was lucky enough to meet Jay. One of the first people to welcome me into the Buffalo newsroom was Jay. He was in awe that a Miami native was actually in Buffalo. Of course, he asked me about the weather everyday. He immediately asked me to join in on the weather blog because of my home state.

I spoke with him nearly everyday and he always friendly words and a new restaurant to talk about.

Jay was a good person and you can't say that often. Simply put, his death is a shame and I'll miss him.

[john d.]

I remember jay from high school I don't remember how or why we became friends we just did. Jay was always coming by to pick me up usually with Maccy and we would go places and listen to music because that is what Jay liked to do. I remember fondly all our times together very fondly as we both went to college we slowly drifted apart and lost touch with each other. 3 years ago my wife and I were talking about old friends who we knew through the years and Jays name came up. I told my wife at that time of all the friends I had lost touch with opver the years the only one I truely regretted losing was Jay. I started thinking about that and I googled his name and started reading some of his articles. Well I found a recent one from buffalo and found his email at the web site and emailed to see if it was really him. The next day when I looked at my email he had rsponded. I was extremely pleased to hear from him and wrote several more times. One day he called me to see if we could meet for a pizza pie as he called it. We did and it was as if we never missed a day. That made my day, his passing shocked me and I am truely sorry for not having done that earlier. I hope there is rock and roll in heaven if not there will be now. God bless you Jay and may we meet again on the flip side.
John G. Dorion

[Andy Bailey]

Here are a couple of youtube links of our wonderful friend Jay in action:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5b_EzcKNwM&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9IGL8ybmz6g&feature=related

I especially enjoy seeing Jay strumming Bob Dylan's "Tangled Up In Blue". A song we massacred together many times.

[Patrice Rizzo]

I keep coming back here to read all the wonderful stories we are all telling about Jay...I have one more,
I am married to Peter Rizzo he lived across the street from Jay growing up. Peter and Jay are great friends, anyways, in 2003 our daughter Karli was accepted to Syracuse University, we called Jay up and wanted to know if he would show us around Syracuse...well of course he would LOVE too. I ended up not being able to go so just Karli and her Dad went, it was the day for accepted freshmen...Jay travelled 2 1/2 hours just to show them around Syracuse. They had breakfast for them the whole shabang, but Jay decided to loudly proclaim mostly all day at ever event that Karli was with her TWO DADS, he would put his arm around my husband, talk funny...all to the horror of a 18yr old girl...I can just see it...Jay and Peter laughing their heads off...trying not to remember what it was to be 18. Oh Jay, we need you so much, I am being selfish I know, but you were so loved by so many, we don't know what to do without you.
May you rest in peace Jay.
Patrice Rizzo

[harry scull jr]

When my father recently passed away, the first phone call I received was from Jay.

When calling hours started at the funeral home on the first day, Jay was the first thru the door .

When the glass seemed half empty, Jay let you know that is was half full.

When the road at the news seemed to have too many turns,Jay helped to straighten it out for you.

In reading and talking with so many ,since Jay's passing you fully realize how many people Jay really touched.There was no time that Jay did not put off that phone call , or stop what he was doing if you stopped by his desk. When you were Jay it was as if you were his only and best friend. Always there, Always a smile, and Always a cheerful word.

I will miss being on assignment with Jay the most. His assignments were the best, and always made you feel closer to your subjects leaving you more knowledgeable anda better person after them.

I will miss seeing you when I get off that elevator in the morning, and look forward to one day being in your presence again.

Harry

[Terry Dunford]

As we travel life’s journey, sometimes we are blessed in the moment to recognize the extraordinary people who intersect our lives.

We all know the type. These kinds of folks make an immediate impression; something in your core tells you that they are cut from a different kind of fabric which is recognized to be both superior in performance, and, priceless in value. Jay Bonfatti was cut from a cloth such as this.

Jay was recognized by his peers to possess extraordinary talent as a journalist; judged to be an outstanding human by his family and friends; and, most importantly, loved and respected by almost all he encountered. Jay was a truly good man.

I will miss him, his laugh, his intellect and his wit. Heck, I’ll even miss his annual Christmas album. His Cajun Christmas tribute to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina still ranks as my favorite. My kids still can’t get last year’s smash hit, “A Marshmallow World” by Kim Stockwood “Pride of Newfoundland” out of their brains!

“JB”, your journey is done; your work is complete. We collectively thank you!

Until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand and give you heaven, my friend. You will be missed!

[Andrew Galarneau]

Every time I try to write something I just start crying again. But anywhere so many of Jay's friends are, that's someplace I want to be.

So I'll just say this. Jay loved my family, and we loved him.

God bless you, Jay.

Andrew, Kathy, Lydia, Zoe, Jacob Galarneau

[Tom S.]

Second post, but it had to be done. Since Thursday, Patti and I have wracked our brains for some way to celebrate Jay and the memories he left us.

Lo and behold, yesterday, we spotted, sitting far in the back of a kitchen cabinet, a bottle of Spiedie sauce Jay had hand-delivered on one of his visits to Philly over the past few years (that stuff has an amazing shelf life). Of course, we immediately cut up some chicken, soaked it overnight in the sauce, and toasted Jay before indulging at dinner tonight.

I also forgot to mention Jay insisting we take in a Mose Allison set back in '97, in a tiny little bar here in town. An incredible night.

Finally, though Stan Evans already mentioned it, I had to make another note of Jay's hilarious tale of his dad zeroing in to "clean your cone" on the family ice cream outings. I never met Jay's dad, but it's an image that has stuck with our family ever since Jay passed along that comedic gem in Stone Harbor, NJ, at Springer's, circa 1996. No matter how many times we partake in an ice cream cone, we still laugh over Jay's cone-cleaning story.

Thanks (again) Jay.

[Richard & Maria Walczak]

Though we didn't know Jay well, only as the best and favorite beaming cook at Meat Day (aka Carne Diem), we share everyone's sadness at his passing and will sorely miss his friendly smile, glowing description of what he was preparing for the afternoon, with numerous side discussions, much laughter, and good comaraderie. He was THE cook par excellence and will be greatly missed though long remembered.

[A Friend]

The Azalea Festival
(John Lombardo and Mary Ramsey)

Like strangers on the road, a distant view
I saw someone who looked like you
My blood ran chill as snow, my body shook
I'd only found where not to look
I'd hung the sky with stars,
with stars in hopes you came
I called you by I called you by your childhood name
Tears raining in my heart, my heart a funeral kiss
I never thought I never thought it'd end like this
Not you alone you won't delay
Or wound the dawning of the day
Not you alone this voice is screaming
A ray of hope, get up stop dreaming
With joined hands and downcast eyes,
the curious crowd
Very angry and very loud
The saddest of farewells, the pouring rain
A ticket on an empty train
Not you alone you won't delay, or wound the dawning of the day
Not you alone this voice is screaming
Wake up, stop dreaming
I am too near so much to lose
I wonder how, how she'll take the news
Like emeralds from the sky,
the green pier lights
How children would have loved those sights
Hearts ticking through the night,
the night the morning bells
The wait for death the wait for death in shore hotels
Not you alone, you won't delay, or wound the dawning of the day
Not you alone this voice is screaming, a ray of hope, get up stop dreaming.
I am too near, so much to lose, I wonder how, how she'll take the news.
Coffins with sails set by the brave
Sharp pointed spears around each grave
Not you alone

[Sue S.]

Jay, it's so hard to believe you won't be at your desk when we go back to work. Things will never be the same without you. We miss you so very much.

[Arb]

A little information for Doug Benz.

The Iced Tea/Ginger Ale mix is known as Nana's "Junkie". It comes from Jay's Grandmother's famous concoction (what about the mint?).

That's a featured drink at everyone of Arb's Parties.

For your Jay toast it's 1/3 fresh brewed Ice Tea, lemonade and ginger ale. Definitely some fresh mint!

...maybe Kettle One...

[jerry sullivan]

I popped in one of Jay's Christmas tapes (2006) this morning. I could feel him speaking to me. Those tapes really are amazing works of art. One song makes you laugh out loud. The next makes you want to cry. Christmas songs. Who else could have come up with such a wonderful way to reach out to his friends and remind them that every day can be like Christmas. People have pointed out the connection he had with children. He touched the child in us all. What better thing could you say about a friend?

[Mackie]

Jay was a giver, from High School to last week. He gave me music (good music) like the Kinks, Little Feat, dark Neil Young, Gil Scott Herron, Jump blues and the truly sublime gift of da funk. He gave me Hemlock Stones the Great Defective.He gave me Lemmings and Radio Dinner.He gave me the knowledge of how to treat people by the way he treated me. So, now he’s in Rock and Roll Heaven, probably organizing a jam session with Bird, Brian Jones, Ella Fitzgerald, Hank Williams and on the keyboard, Harry Truman. Jay was my best friend. Nobody could ever ask for a better friend.

[mitch lawrence]

Dearest Jay-Bo…..
There are great surprises in life, and then there’s the other kind I got last night about you.
I’m at a loss for words, except to say, now how am I going to collect that $50 you owe me?
I never laughed as long or as hard as I did all those nights at the N&H, with you, the Wiz, Larvell DuThang, the entire P-S gang and Tommy Hrim behind the stick. (Now there was a real bartender.)
Go in peace, my friend.
Mitch Lawrence

[Patty McNamee]

It hit home again today that Jay is gone. I read Jay’s death notice in the Boston Globe this morning and can no longer pretend that he is up in Buffalo and we need to give each other a call.
Dennis and I have known Jay almost all of our lives. We have been together through elementary, high school and, incredibly, college. Jay gave us the gift in staying in touch and we have memories galore of his thirty year sojourn in upper New York state and Philly.
Reflecting back to the Saint Catherine of Sienna Elementary School years, I remember that we students were required to attend mass the first Friday of each month. The nuns taught us that if you faithfully did that, God would give you a peaceful death, your family at your bedside. Jay, you are probably saying, "but I didn't read the fine print! I am only 52!"
When I am trying to be unselfish, Jay, I am grateful that if you had to “go”, it happened in beloved Falmouth, after a day of fun in Buzzard’s Bay, surrounded by your parents, brothers and sister, nieces and nephews. May You Stay Forever Young.

[Chuck Spang]

As we all know Jay was a special guy. He was the best mentor any up and coming writer could ever have, touching so many lives as can be seen in all of these great entries. We will miss you Jay!

[Stan Evans]

Dear Jay

Most of us are getting older but you keep on being the kid we no longer are. You're the
biggest, friendliest kid on the block, the one we all are happy to see on the darkest and
coldest upstate winter morning. And the one we seek out to discover how we are going to make
the most of a warm, sunny summer day.

Most of us became more serious, maybe more cynical, weighted down with pressures of life and
job and family.

You kept on being the kid we used to be, watching the world through a teen-ager's eyes.
Listening to the music. Enjoying each day. Always happy to see anyone of us. Lifting us up in
bad times. Making the best of the good times. Seeing the irony and the comedy of life's daily
events.

Is it any wonder that our children are as happy to see you as any of us, your adult
friends?

And along the way, you taught us. Not just about the music, or how to throw a good party,
or how to smoke a mean pulled pork or make the sauce that goes with it. Yes. That is all part
of you. But there is much more.

You taught us how to enjoy all that there is in this world. How to laugh when we feel those
big weights and pressures upon us. How to recognize and deal with hypocrisy. How to see the
goodness and the best in each of us. How to get past misfortune, take pleasure in the smallest
things and enjoy what is around us … especially our friends.

You are the kid who brought us all together, Jay.

Just look at all these testimonials to you, from friends all over. Tom and Patti in
Philadelphia. Len in Pittsburgh. Margaret in Syracuse and Margaret in Buffalo. Your friends in
Buffalo, Syracuse, Albany, the West Coast, the East Coast. Hart and Bud, Phil and Jerry,
Heather and Holly, so many more.

You are the kid who connected with each one of us and then wrapped us all up in your world,
which is so much bigger and more exciting than the places we travel each day individually.

You are the kid who brought us all together, not just now, as we grieve, but in all the
times and years past. You took us out to the old Rockpile, to the Aud, to Rich Stadium, to see
Willie Nelson in Syracuse to hear the Philharmonic Christmas concert in Buffalo, to the gorge
in Cattaraugus, ice skating downtown.

You are the one who brought so many interesting and fascinating and good people together.
And whenever one of us talked to another, even over miles and years apart, we always ask,
"How's Jay? What's he up to?"

You also shared with us your family. You explained with pride how an Italian kid from
Massachusetts had an Irish middle name because of his mother's side of the family.

You told us with a big laugh how your father, when you were very young, used to "clean"
your and your brothers' ice cream cones. You told us about your brother the artist and how
proud you are of him. And do you remember how happy and excited you were to take your younger
brother to the Winter Olympics in Lake Placid during that really cold stretch?

Now we'll just have to go on, acting upon what you shared and taught us so well.

Thank you, Jay

[Marty Morahan]

RIP, Jay. Just found out about this. I knew Jay from my days at the News in the mid-80s and hadn't seen him since a wedding about eight years ago.

My condolences to all his family and friends. Nice to see some really lovely tributes to a class guy here.

[Lori Cappellazzo]

For Jay:
Our house has been such a sad place for the last 48 hours. My husband lost a soul-mate, our daughter lost a favorite person and I lost a little of my faith.
After so many tears and hours of asking why and trying to overcome our disbelief, I realize Jay, you truly where a gift to each of us. You always gave without ever trying to give. All the love laughter and wisdom you shared could not be surpassed.
We will keep a part of you in our hearts and continue to share your gift forever.
Our house will never be the same without you in it. You will be so missed and always remembered. As loud as it was, your voice was a voice I never wanted to stop hearing.

Much Love. Lori

[Lisa Sheldon]

Christmas was a special time of year for Jay as all of you who received his CD may know. But Jay had another tradition at this time of year: the Master of Ceremonies for the Family Santa party. As one of Jay’s cousins, I was fortunate enough to anticipate and enjoy this annual family event for decades. All the cousins, aunts and uncles, children and even friends would gather for an afternoon/evening of fun and food, each year at another house. The highlight of Family Santa was “The Grab.” Not that time of grab (Jay is winking now), but a pile of presents on the floor of which you were allowed to grab one. Jay’s role in all this was to blindfold and spin each person before allowing them to grope the floor for the best present. The spin was an especially entertaining part of the Grab because Jay would improvise how many spins and even directions the blindfolded victim would take. If there was a gleam in his eye or his grin got bigger, the crowd was assured of extra spins and a very wobbly present-grabber. Beware particularly sassy nephews, you were always the recipient of the biggest grin.

Once the grabber was on the floor, recovering from his twirling, Jay would incite the crowd to yell if the potential present, held in the air, was appropriate. Now, since each person had brought one present, it was often known which present was suitable for the grabber; a toy for a child, incense and soaps for the lady, etc. When the crowd was satisfied with the choice, Jay would help the grabber back up from the present-strewn floor, remove the blindfold, and celebrate the grabber and his or her present selection with the crowd. Then, he was off to find the next victim and it would begin again. Last year there were 48 victims of his merriment.

At the end of the Grab, there was finale: Pig Pile on Jay. All the younger members of the family would take a mildly resistant Jay to the floor and pile on top of him. Each year, the grownups in the crowd would smile and hope the ever growing children would get off of him quickly as the shear weight of this crowd was a little daunting. He never complained or did anything but smile when he finally was allowed up off the floor, and put his glasses and disheveled clothing back in place. His booming laughter at the end of the Pig Pile signaled the end of this part of Family Santa and the beginning of more adult activities. But I’ll let some other cousins tell this story.

I will always miss you and wonder how we will fill your void. But, I know in my heart, that you would want us to keep this family tradition going. I wonder whom you have appointed from your new perch above us to take the blindfold and lead our family onward through our sadness and into our future holidays. I hope angels don’t get dizzy during your spins but I know they will love your laugh.

[Rizzo Family]

Our Grandparents started it all in Norwood as neighbors. Our Dads grew up together raising hell. All of us Sylvan Circle Kids share childhood memories of laughs, adventures and mischief. What happened on Sylvan Circle...stayed on Sylvan Circle! Generations of memories are with us forever. Our thoughts and prayers are with all y'all.

[Doug Benz]

As we all know, Jay Bonfatti was a benevolent, affable soul. He lit up the room. No matter what, it was always a treat to be in his presence. It was impossible to be in a bad mood when Jay was around. He made people feel special and that is a rare characteristic.

I am tone deaf and the worst singer I know. During guitar jam sessions at JBo’s, he and the guys would give me some Bob Dylan or The Band lyrics to try and belt out, and no matter how awful I must have been, Jay would always find some praise. That was the kind of human being he was. He made people feel good.

This afternoon, I relayed Jay’s passing to a colleague who had not heard. I was struck, but not surprised, to print out 32 pages of this blog to show my less than computer savvy friend. 32 pages of tributes, so far, is its own statement on the unusual volume of lives JBo touched.

I saw Jay last on Aug. 9 at Staba’s and we had a great visit. He was so excited about this large brick smoker he was helping to build. As another friend remarked, that was the essence of Jay, crafting a device that would cook food to fill the bellies of scores of folks and help party-goers to eat, drink and be merry.

That day, Jay was overseeing the grill, pulling off all kinds of great meat treats, working to make sure everyone was well fed. As my wife gave Jay a hug and kiss good-bye, concerned that she might not have had enough to eat, after hours of chasing the children, he piled some smoked brisket on a plate for her to eat on her way to the car...

Jay liked to enjoy a special drink. He introduced my kids to it. He mixed homemade sun-brewed iced tea and ginger ale, sometimes with a splash of lemonade. I’ll never fix one that I won’t think of him.

It’s tough to fathom that he is gone. Boy, he'll be missed.

[Janet]

Decent, fun-loving, humble. I felt like I've known him my whole life. We are all better people for having known him. Rest in Peace my friend.

[Janet]

Decent, fun-loving, humble. I felt like I've known him my whole life. We are all better people for having known him. Rest in Peace my friend.

[Liz]

I got to know Jay during his many pilgrimages to Florida. His humor, his big heart, his love of all music and all people, won me over immediately. I remember one night having a brief but deeply personal conversation on the way to one of the local beer joints. Before we got out of the car he looked at me, shook his head, and gave me an order I try follow to this day.
Jay, you changed the world with your kind heart, one person at a time.

[Dan Cappellazzo]

I had the good fortune of meeting Jay some two decades ago while stringing as a photographer for the AP in Buffalo where Jay was the sports staffer. Like everyone that met this gregarious bear of a man I felt like a long lost family member the first time we sat down for lunch.

Wether he was speaking with Buffalo Bills quarterback Jim Kelly during an interview or talking to a guy on the street trying to bum a quarter he treated all with his trademark warm, wide open, sharp witted personality. This, as we all know, was Jay's way. To call him a people person is a true understatement.

There are hundreds of Jay stories we could all share. One in particular comes to mind; Jay and I were on our way back from an assignment in the southern tier back in the AP days and we happened upon a group of 7 to 12 year olds washing cars for $5 in the family driveway. In classic JB fashion: "Ahhhhhh Cappy we better stop and get the wheels washed and help out the local economy." Needless to say the kids were pumped that $5 was pulling up the drive. What they didn't know was our assignment hours before in the hinterlands had left the wheel wells and undercarriage of Jay's car caked with about 3 inches of mud (this is in no way was a result of a dirt road detour we opted for on that late spring morning). The kids began to wash the car. After about four minutes they began to wrap up the job and were ready to collect their loot. At that point Jay had gotten out of the car; "Ahhhhhh you guys did a good job but I think you missed a few spots, come on, I know you can do a better job that that." The wash lasted another 15 to 20 minutes. Meanwhile I'm in the car practically pissing my pants laughing, as Jay, all with a huge smile, booming laugh in tow, rakes these kids over the coals. We drove away agreeing that it was the hardest $5 they had ever worked for in their short lives. (Oh, a footnote; Jay gave them $10 and washed the majority of the mud out from under the car himself, all the while instructing the young entrepreneurs on proper washing techniques. Although we did leave about 20lbs. of Salamanca mud in the driveway.)

Like many of us "Jay Birds" we shared a love of music. Allen Toussaint, The Meters, World Party, The Faces, Louis Jordan the list of great artists Jay enriched my life with, and others in his vast circle of friends could go on for pages. We often spoke about how the music you listen to becomes the soundtrack to your life, how certain songs bring you back to a time and place, reminding you of people you were with and precious time shared.

A number of us weekend guitar slingers would meet at his place on the West Side a few times a month to massacre a dozen or so rock classics, and as Jay liked to call our "guitarmageddon" jam sessions, would often produce a few million bum notes but always a great time. Every so often we would torture friends who didn't play but would stop over for the camaraderie, laughs, stories and conversation about the latest news, life in the wide wide world of newspapers, cool songs and bands, new and old.

He taught me how to be a good newsman, his fatherly advice often helped me through rough personal times. He was a light that beamed bright and lifted all who were warmed by his glow.

When a bell rings an angle gets it's wings and when the B minor chord of The Rolling Stones Wild Horses is strummed to open the song a Jay Bird smiles down from above as he sores through the clouds.

Gonna miss ya JB. As you would often say when the guitars went back in there cases, with your big bear hug, and an "I Love ya man," I'll leave you with your favorite parting salutation "Don't Go Changin'"

Love Cappy

[Scott Scanlon]

Jay was among several people with Syracuse connections who stopped by to see me nearly four years ago when I came to The News from The Post-Standard to become the Niagara Bureau Chief. He told me some things worked a bit differently at my new paper but the people were top notch.
It was the first piece of spot on advice he gave me.
It wouldn’t be the last.
He helped reintroduce me to my hometown – the food, the golf, some of the beer joints – and, as a union leader, made sure Niagara reporters and I were in the loop when it came to important company news, as well as newspaper-related social gatherings.
He told me several times he’d never want to be a manager at The News, but the truth is that he was. His passion for his union duties and his co-workers made it so.
He was the social director of the news side of the paper, one of its key BS detectors and a big chunk of its conscience.
His sense of fairness was as strong as his sense of fun.
Like all solid leaders, he was a great listener. He dispensed advice thoughtfully, like a friend, whether it was personal or professional in nature.
He was patient, and kind.
Jay leaves a big hole in the newsroom, one he’d want all of us to work together to fill.
His actions certainly leave a roadmap for us to follow.

[Josselyn Staba]

One thing I am grateful for is that we just got to spend entire days with Jay. [We still have his tupperware tub in our fridge, holding some of his amazing maple syrup-mustard sauce.] He came and camped for the whole weekend of our annual party, Meat Day [aka, Carne Diem - hat tip, Carlsons.] I can't recall him ever having missed it over the last eight years. As usual, I think Jay worked even harder than we did, manning the smoker and grills, cooking up a huge breakfast for the stragglers on Sunday morning who always get roped into clean-up duty. And yet all my pictures are of him hanging out, chatting, strumming his guitar. How did he do it? Get so much done while still making time to BE with everyone and enjoy himself? And, now, after reading through all these wonderful memories and comments, I realize that our experiences and special friendship with Jay weren't the exception in his life - they were the rule. He always made time for people. Gave all of himself and then some.

After the party, I said to my husband, Dave, "We have GOT to do something really special for Jay. I just don't know how we could do Meat Day without him!" I guess we're going to have to figure it out. One thing is a given; the new smoker we're building out there will now be dedicated to TWO amazing, loving, sarcastic men our family has suffered the loss of this year. Maybe I'll stop crying by the time it's finally built for next year's party, but I have my doubts.

My deepest sympathies to Jay's entire family. And my thanks for giving and sharing with us such an amazing man. His life holds many lessons that I intend to try to learn from and pass on to our children. So please try to take some comfort in that he will live on in that way, as well as in the hearts and memories of the many, many people he blessed with his friendship.

I love and miss you, Jay.

[John Wisniewski]

Aren't we better people for having known Jay? Jay and I were colleagues in Syracuse at The Post-Standard, but more important we were roommates in the early 1980s. In the four or so years that we split the rent, we shared a lifetime of experiences. I can tell you this: In all that time, I never knew when there was something personal troubling Jay. He had towering inner strength. At the same time, he comforted me and counseled me through countless personal crises. There was no one better to listen to a new Dylan album for the first time with, and along with Ed Dunn, there was nobody I would have wanted to be with on that awful night we heard the sorrowful news about John Lennon. Jay really did light up every room he walked into. This is not something you say just because someone has gone. It is time for me to leave now and pay Jay tribute with a long good cry.

[Jeff Miers]

i like to believe that the biggest, strongest spirits never really leave. science doesn't back this claim, and when the closest family and friends are grieving, it probably is about as soothing as a hallmark card platitude. but with jay, i think it has to be true. you could not come in contact with him and not be tocuhed, changed in some way. a good way, because he never lost touch with the wisdom we have as children, the sort that is whittled away by time, disappointment, socialization, the rat race, and all of it.

when i came to the News seven years ago, jay was one of the first of the tenured to reach out to me. he didn't have to - after all, i was the new kid on the block, and i'd come from the world of "alternative journalism," to boot. (as in "alternative to earning a living wage".)

why not be skeptical and stand-offish? it's far easier. not for jay, though. he made me feel welcome, made it clear that he felt i deserved to be where i was. that's the sort of kindness one never forgets.

we bonded quickly - over music, of course. he was so passionate about music, particularly of the "americana" variety. personally, i've always found such a passion for music to reveal much about a man. if you can feel that deeply - well, in my opinion, that means you've got empathy, that you've chosen to look behind the obvious for something deeper, more true, a finer reality.

jay fed me music - deepened my appreciation for dave alvin and the blasters, whom he held in the highest esteem, rightly - celebrated our mutual love for Buffalo's own Steam Donkeys - called me "rock star" in a loving way after we partied together at a gathering where guitars were passed and one ended up on my shoulders -

he helped me navigate my way between responsibilities as a union member, and responsibilities to the paper and to my own conception of what it means to do a good job - no small task, and one that jay never shirked, no matter how busy he might've been -

jay consistently repeated his offer to join in the impromptu jams he held at his place, with News colleagues and friends - i would always tell him i'd make it one of these times - "no pressure, dude, just some friends, some beers, and some guitars," he'd say - what keeps hitting me over these past few heavy-hearted days is that i never made the time to do it -

maybe in whatever world comes next, we can jam, jay. till then, everyone who loved you misses you terribly.

a colleague mentioned springsteen's "terry's song" as really nailing the way so many feel right now, and it's true - "when they built you, brother, they broke the mold"

[Arb Bonfatti]

At first I was surprised by the huge outpouring of love displayed by these comments. But then I thought, duhh, of course.

Jay has been with me since he was born. He really was "with me" when we began sleeping together when a bed was needed for him when he grew out of his crib. Jay was a "head banger" and he would sleep on his stomach and bang his head on the pillow. My Mom's concerns about this behavior were eased when her mom, Nana Farrell, told her she read that "head banging" was a sign of a musical bent.

We had a great sleeping relationship until we moved to a bigger house 8 years later. I remember saying that I wouldn't be able to fall asleep without him.

My family always was saddened when Jay would leave but we knew that his heart was torn and how much he loved his other families that he established wherever he lived.

I knew Jay had a busy and happy life and reading these comments has been a great help and comfort to my parents, siblings and their spouses, nieces and nephews as we try to grasp this terrible turn of events. As we all found out, he was able to form a special individual relationship with everyone he met.

We look forward to seeing you all at Jay's memorial in Buffalo on Saturday the 6th of September.

Arb Bonfatti

[Steve Bell]

So many insightful and funny comments here. Friends from all over. People who loved Jay and mourn his loss, because he entered our lives and changed them, made our lives richer. They are all such treasures to read.
I'd known Jay since about 1986, when he came to work in the AP bureau in Albany. I can't say we hit it off very well. My square peg didn't always fit into his round hole, and vice versa. I remember coming onto the night shift early in Jay's time there and finding cigarette ashes all over the keyboard I was about to sit and work at. Jay's response was something like, "Oops, sorry," and then he blew them all over the desk. I'm sure it was only partly intentional. His grinning Oscar to my Felix.
Jay went to Buffalo for the AP and he and I were soon together again. We talked and started over. He covered the Bills' heyday and we worked together with the late Ben Deforest.
I suspect it was when we played softball together on the Chieftains that we actually became good friends and I began to see Jay for the lovely and loving person he was. Many others have posted great stories about Jay. I'm happy that I had a hand in helping Jay get out of the AP trap in Philly and come to the News and back to Buffalo, although Stan Evans and Margaret Sullivan and others led that charge.
Buffalo and Jay, they were meant for each other, weren't they? Buffalo's a gregarious city packed with energy and fun and memories waiting to be created, if you know how to see beyond the surface.
I will always remember Bud and Sully before Chieftains games habitually fretting about whether Jay was going to make it in time to start in left field. Jay was not fleet, and his running steps seemed incredibly small for one of his girth. But almost every game in those years -- when we had Darren Dopp at shortstop -- around 6:59, Jay would do that Jay saunter to join his team. It was often like he got off a bus or out of a taxi half a mile away because I most remember him shuffling in from the outfield or the diamond next to ours -- sometimes right through the opposing team -- to reach our side of the bleachers, while everyone else came from the nearest parking lot. I swear, he walked out of the corn in right field most nights.
"Here's Jay;" "Jay's here!" The cry would go up and we were then safe to start the game, knowing his clutch hitting gave us a better chance to win. He'd have a bat over his shoulder like a Londoner's umbrella and he'd be wearing a Bosox or Pats or Bills jersey and baggy sweats. His cap would be from some unheard of 1940s NY-Penn League team, or a Pacific Coast League outfit called the Fresno Flyswatters or something. He'd swat hits and shag flies and then lead us all to CPG or Malone's.
He was MVP two or three times. If I recall correctly, he was the first or one of the first members of the Chieftains Hall of Fame, a collection of never weres he so perfectly embodied. That selection set the precise tone for a long line of Chieftains, an honor that we all knew was really about living up to Jay's example.
I last saw Jay at a news conference at Tifft Farm two weeks ago. He was, as always, late. But we waited in a hard rain to start until he arrived. Donn was there. When Jay arrived he knew by name and greeted all the TV cameramen, the radio reporters, the people holding the news conference. If we all had a dollar for all the times we waited for Jay's arrival to complete the situation and make us ready to begin...
Jimmy McCoy arrived just after Jay, looked at Donn and Jay and said "Whoa, they sent the A Team today." Jay was on so many A Teams.
You've all hit on the special things about Jay, things we'll all remember and cherish and laugh about in the years to come. His Christmas CDs, which he got to me the last two years, even though I was no longer part of the newsroom. He always gave one to Liz too, because he knew how much she loved music, even if Christmas was usually a work day for her; the grilling and smoking arts; the cooking not cleaning; his music.
The thing I will remember most about Jay, the bachelor, was his love of children and his Santaesque relationship with them. How painfully appropriate that it was his beloved nieces who couldn't wake him the other morning.
I recall a night after Jay moved back when he invited Ginny and me and our kids over to dinner. He served an Italian masterpiece we ate on, of course, missmatched plates with generations of cutlery. But he reveled in the kids, who were probably 10, 8 and 5 or so. He was loud and jovial and loving and the girls immediately warmed to him. Griff, the youngest, was a little intimidated, but in no time Griff was on Jay's lap laughing his head off. What I remember about that night is that when Griff was shy and withdrawn in the face of Jay's Falstaffian ways, Jay didn't get all quiet and meek and play down to a 5-year-old, as most of us would, adapting ourselves to the situation. Instead he laughingly growled something along the lines of "Ah, the kid'll come around." Jay was a master with kids. After that night, when we talked about Jay, the kids called him "Loud Jay."
Danny's loving obit said Jay never had children, which is true. But that's like saying the October storm knocked down some trees. Jay had hundreds of kids. All of our kids were Jay's because they all knew intuitively that Jay was the big kid they loved from the first.
Christ, why did he have to go? I set out to write five sentences and couldn't stop.
But that's always how it was with Jay, wasn't it? You never wanted him to stop, stop the laugh, the cynicism, the music, the one-liners, the food, the fun, the voice. How certain are we all that even in death, none of those elements of Jay's life will ever leave us when we think of him.
He allowed me to learn a lot from him. I am a far better person for the size of his heart, which always was to the point of overflowing, of bursting -- and then it did, far, far too soon.

[HapKlein]

Alas, alas we have lost a community treasure.

I worked with Jay several times as he gathered information for a story. The alst one was The Erie County forest when the Giambra administration tried to cash in the forest to meet budget needs. Jay was tireless i his thorough sifting and checking of facts. He hiked through a section of the forest with a group of us and wisely stayed close to Bruce Kershner to ensure that he was getting the true story clear in his mind.

During that episode Jay called several of us to verify facts and check on the validity of information he had received.

I was very impressed with the depth of the understanding he had of Western New York and of his dedication to journalism.

We have lost a treasure. But, boy oh boy, did he ever enrich us with his presence.

[Rich Cimini]

I was in the press box at Philadelphia's Lincoln Financial Field late Thursday night, covering a pre-season football game, when one of the Philly writers apparently came across a wire story about Jay's death. Sitting about 30 yards away, I could tell something was up. In only seconds, the bad news had made its way across the press box, leaving behind a trail of shock and sadness.
I was a college intern at The Post-Standard in Syracuse when I first met Jay. Wow, talk about an education. He taught me a lot about the business, including the after-hours part. What a great guy. Sadly, I lost touch with him in recent years, but I'm glad I had the chance to know him.
My condolences to his family and his friends at The Buffalo News.

[Roger van der Horst]

I can't think of anything to say that would do him justice. A line keeps running through my head: I wish it had been me. And I can hear Jay answer: Hey, I wish it had been you, too. Then that sweet, high-pitched cackle.

Whatever I write, it's inadequate. Whatever I did as a friend, it wasn't enough.

Of all the people to be taken, why Jay? I just don't see time ever healing this wound.

P.S. -- Jay had this big lug of a gray tabby cat in Syracuse that he named Theotis. Laid back. A lot like him. And he taught Theotis to fetch. Jay could do anything.

[Pete Sigurdson]

Jay was a gentleman, a rare find these days. An incredible blend of wordsmith, musician, humorist, chef, and friend. I will miss our infrequent but enjoyable conversations. Peace brother.

[Donna Ryan]

I am almost at a loss for words, what can be said about such a great guy. He refered to himself as a wordsmith!! So what can I say.
As the former Local Secretary for the Newspaper Guild, it was a pleasure to get to know Jay. We worked together at the Guild office and traveled to TNG-CWA Sector conferences and CWA conventions. During these travels is when I got to know Jay. He would always find the best restaurants for dinners and adventures.

Who is going to lead the Christmas songs at the Guild Holiday party? Jay would always be a party guy and everyone loved him.
Jay will be missed and always remembered in all of the stories we have to share.
Smile when you think of him, he is smiling down on us.

[Missy Bonfatti]

Every time you were with us it was a holiday, I spent the day with the kids today at the raft, I taught Zach how to dive you would have been so proud I can't throw them off the dock as far as you did, but I was the "king" of the raft today..Jay I miss you..the last afternoon you spent with our boys you said "I don't care what religion you follow but please remember one thing, treat others the way you would like to be treated" You are their hero, and so loved Jay...

[Margaret Giancola]

I started working at The News almost five years before Jay's return to Buffalo, yet I really can't remember the newsroom without him.

Growing up, I never had a nickname, but being the third Margaret on the third floor, Jay just had to come up with one.

He decided on Red.

Why? Because I wore red a lot. And for him, it stuck.

The last time I saw Jay was while I was walking with my nine-month-old daughter on Elmwood. He hadn't seen Maggie in a while, and he hunkered down to stroller level and simply said, "Little Red, we are gonna have some fun when you get older!"

Then he gave me one of his trademark grins and belly laughs, and off he went.

It makes me unspeakably sad to realize she'll never know
Uncle Jay and all the fun he brought to all the lives he touched.

It's been said countless times on this blog and around the newsroom over the past day and a half, but it bears repeating: Jay truly was the heart and soul of The News, and everyone who knew him is better off because of it.

He will be missed.

[Catherine Artman]

Although I didn't keep in touch directly with Jay after leaving The News for Pittsburgh, I asked after him many times, usually pestering Budd for an update on Jay. My fondest memory of him: A bunch of Newsies are in a bar. Jay commands the center of the floor. He is grinning and gesturing and belting out the words to some New Orleans blues. And it is his own record, which he has brought for the DJ to play. The best. God bless you, Jay

[Tim Graham]

I made it back to Buffalo a month ago and saw Jay at a Chieftains softball game. He was taking pictures. He always took pictures.

We retired to Malone's for the postgame show. He said he had places to be in the morning, a guitar lesson and something else, so he could stop for only one. But he said it was a special occasion that I was in town, and coming from him -- in that voice that emanated from somewhere around the soles of his loafers -- he made me feel special. He had one of those personalities that, whenever he stopped by to chat, you felt somehow validated as worthy of his time. The weird thing about that is that he stopped for everybody. ...

So he finished his first beer and, as is my way, I browbeat him into having another. Then he made sure we had a third. We talked about music and the best place to get pizza in Foxborough, Mass. (he'd appreciate me adhering to AP style even in a memorial blog comment) and whatever happened to his Bostonian accent.

Jay laughed and said that it always comes back to him each summer, when he heads back to the Cape to visit his family.

[Jay Burney]

I knew Jay for over 15 years and I always enjoyed his friendship and conversation. We had in common a love of music, strong opinions on environmental issues and a real ability to talk to each other. I enjoyed working with him on many of his articles including stories on the Great Lakes and even on Earl's Restaurant in Sardinia where we both chatted with Earl for interviews. Jay was an important voice and will be missed

[Bill Wippert]

I have many fond memories of Jay and when trying to piece together a way to possibly describe him to the few who might not have known him, I struggled, but eventually arrived on one word.
Incongruous.
A strong man but gentle.
A big man but graceful,
A middle-age man but oh so young.
A serious worker who loved to relax and laugh.
A union leader who was a friend to management.
A single man who was anything but alone.
But the contrast that stood out most to me was his empathy and sarcasm.
How could one man be so empathetic to all? So caring and genuinely concerned?
Yet his humor could be so wickedly sarcastic . I think we all enjoyed it.
You will not meet anyone who possesses either characteristic in such abundance.
And I will miss him greeting me with a “Hey Wild Bill, what’s going on?”
I think that was the incongruity of his sarcasm and empathy showing right there.
I am not very ‘wild’ but I always knew that he really did care about what was going on with me, my family and our friends.
Thanks for being Jay.

[Brian Connolly]

Earlier this month, I brought my 9-month-old daughter along to a cookout that Jay was at. At first she was a little uncertain about this big guy making noises and waving at her -- he was relentless in his effort to get her to warm up. Before long, she was laughing with him and having quite a good time watching him hold court.

I can relate to how she felt. When I first started at The News, I didn't quite know what to make of Jay, a larger-than-life newsroom character. Before long, I was laughing with him and having quite a good time watching him hold court.

He was the best. A wonderful guy and a good friend. I'll miss him terribly.

[Jonathan Epstein]

I only had a chance to work with Jay for the last four years, since I joined the News. But it didn't take long to see how important he was to everyone. He was always at the center of everything, literally(his desk) and figuratively. His booming laugh, his wide smile, his cheery personality and sense of humor, his great stories, and his way with people -- all with be sorely missed by everyone here and everyone who knew him. He just had so much still to offer, and the best tribute we can all make to him is to keep his spirit alive in everything we do.

[Bobbie]

I am privileged to have had Jay Bonfatti as my friend and co-worker for 30+ years.
On my wedding day as I entered the church, he was the first person I saw. It brought a huge smile on my face then and every time I think about Jay now I smile. He did that to people.
I will miss him dearly! I can’t imagine the newsroom without him.

[Len Barcousky]

Everybody has a Jay story. Many of them are even printable. Here is one of mine.
In the late 1970s, Jay and I worked on the night desk at the Post-Standard in Syracuse – a fascinating place in its own right. Jay always would answer the phone, “Post-Standard …Bonfatti. When one of our regular reviewers would call in with dictation, he always heard Jay’s greeting as “Post-Standard … Bob Fatti.” And the reviewer would respond with a hearty “Hello, Bob!” For the next 25 years “Bob” became the greeting I used to start our too rare phone calls and to address annual Christmas notes and occasional postcards.
I will miss my conversations with Bob.
Len Barcousky

[Tina M. Destro]

As a former Guild President who had the privilege of working with Jay Bonfatti, I would like to express my most heartfelt sympathy to his family, his friends, his colleagues and union brethren at the Buffalo News.

He was a jovial, kind and true man. He was one of the few people I've met in my life that I felt like I had known forever.

The world will be lesser of a place without him, but heaven will be all the brighter.

[Dave Bruch]

I just saw Jay at our fantasy football draft on Saturday, the first one he made in two years. He did a "phone in" draft the past two years from MA and, if it were anyone else, we would have dreaded it. However, with Jay, it was full of laughs and stories, even by long distance. He apparently was sitting in a park doing the draft and commenting on all the characters and goings on in the park. It was hilarious, even long distance. I am so glad I got to see Jay this past weekend. I brought him some peanut butter bon bons that my wife makes for him, and, just to see the gleam in his eye for them, made my day. She would always make him some for the draft and for Christmas. Part of the deal was him sending us his Xmas cd, which was always unique and made us say "where the hell did he get that one!" You will be missed, big guy, but your spirit remains with us through all the times you made us laugh until we cried. We will not forget your spirit and friendship. May you rest in peace.

[Kevin]

All News readers are saddened by the loss of Jay Bonfati and all that he gave to his profession, his countless friends, and his adopted home of Buffalo.
Journalism excellence is an indispensable organ in the life of a community. Jay contributed to that excellence with curiousity, generous spirit, and a boundless sense of humanity.
Please accept my prayers and deepest sympathies, extended to Jay's family at home in Massachusetts, and his family at the News.

[Tim Graham]

I made it back to Buffalo a month ago and saw Jay at a Chieftains softball game. He was taking pictures. He always took pictures.

We retired to Malone's for the postgame show. He said he had places to be in the morning, a guitar lesson and something else, so he could stop for only one. But he said it was a special occasion that I was in town, and coming from him -- in that voice that emanated from somewhere around the soles of his feet -- he made me feel special. He had one of those personalities that, when he stopped by to chat, you felt somehow validated as worthy of his time. The weird thing about that is that he stopped for everybody. ...

So he finished his first beer and, as is my way, I browbeat him into having another. Then he made sure we had a third. We talked about music and the best place to get pizza in Foxborough, Mass. (he'd appreciate me adhering to AP style even in a memorial blog comment) and whatever happened to accent.

Jay laughed and said that it always comes back to him each summer, when he heads back to the Cape to visit his family.

[Carrie Choboy]

Jay was my a great friend to me for the past several years. He introduced me to so many cool things -- "good" music, golf, off-the beaten-track-areas of WNY. Walking into The News building or the cafeteria or onto the editorial floor will never be the same. He had enormous heart, patience and a wonderful way of getting you to look at things differently and helping you grow. My daughter, Natalie, adored him. We are grateful for that he was part of our lives.

[Charity Vogel]

The last time I saw Jay, last week, he was headed out of the News building, bound for Cape Cod. We passed in the stairwell -- that happened a lot. Jay was really a walker, wasn't he? He'd be all over this building, on the sidewalk out front, up in the cafeteria -- you'd swear there were dozens of him. Anyway, I asked him why he was grinning so hugely and he told me: "Off to my family's place. Can't wait." I wished him a great time, said I'd want to hear all about it when he got back.

I think I'll be waiting for that moment for some time.

Rest in peace, JB. You were well loved. And if mortality truly is the "weight of glory," as Lewis wrote, then somewhere you're finding what that glory really means. We'll miss you.