He was a truly wonderful person; a beloved son, husband and father; and a treasured friend and colleague.
This is a place for all of us who were lucky enough to know Sam to share our memories and to help celebrate his life. If you would like to add an article to this blog please contact samblog@linden-sahani.net. Or you may leave a comment on any article. (Comments are moderated: please bear in mind that this is a place to remember Sam and to help celebrate his life.)
There is also an album of photographs for which contributions are welcome. Instructions on how to contribute appear next to album.
Friday, 15 January 2010
from Yann Lecun
I posted some pictures of Sam with his wide, immutable, and contagious smile that I gathered over the years at Snowbird, NIPS and CIfAR workshops.
This is the Sam Roweis I will always remember.
As a close collaborator, colleague, and office neighbor of Sam's, I'm too devastated to write more than a few words right now.
As with Yann LeCun, I am too upset to write much. Occasionally Sam's recent manner would belie a whiff of dissatisfaction with his work, but there was no way we could have imagined the absurd extent of his dissatisfaction (at least not without being under his overwhelming amount of stress). A year ago I thought it would please Sam to learn that some old work of his was getting a huge amount of use recently; his reaction was incredibly humble, so much so that I worry he did not take the great pride he merited. He had so much to be proud of, and his current research program was going as strong as ever.
Well, what can I do know now to honor Sam appropriately? I am dedicating my latest journal article to the memory of Sam, but he certainly deserves much more. Not long ago, a collaborator expressed incredulity at how unbelievably careful I was being in responding to some referee reports in order to make Sam feel proud, on the off-chance that Sam or someone he knew was one of the anonymous referees: as we all know, Sam was the kind of researcher who deserved almost absurdly lavish attention. He bettered everything he touched, and was a joy in all his (always stimulating) interactions.
As with Yann LeCun, I am too upset to write much. Occasionally Sam's recent manner would belie a whiff of dissatisfaction with his work, but there was no way we could have imagined the absurd extent of his dissatisfaction (at least not without being under his overwhelming amount of stress). A year ago I thought it would please Sam to learn that some old work of his was getting a huge amount of use recently; his reaction was incredibly humble, so much so that I worry he did not take the great pride he merited. He had so much to be proud of, and his current research program was going as strong as ever.
ReplyDeleteWell, what can I do know now to honor Sam appropriately? I am dedicating my latest journal article to the memory of Sam, but he certainly deserves much more. Not long ago, a collaborator expressed incredulity at how unbelievably careful I was being in responding to some referee reports in order to make Sam feel proud, on the off-chance that Sam or someone he knew was one of the anonymous referees: as we all know, Sam was the kind of researcher who deserved almost absurdly lavish attention. He bettered everything he touched, and was a joy in all his (always stimulating) interactions.