Author of New Memoir Is Remembered Fondly

George Soter, the author of THE WHOLE CATASTROPHE: THE STORY OF MY (OFTEN TERRIFIC) LIFE , is remembered fondly by his friends and colleagues.

GS BIOHe loved a good laugh like he loved a good scotch. A true gentleman to his fingertips.  Mike Bencivenga

I think George would have been happy to be described as a “raconteur.” The word is more adult than “story-teller,” more urbane. But he didn’t tell stories because he wanted the limelight, wanted to be the center of attention. If they were funny or interesting – and they always were – he wanted to share them with others, wanted people to enjoy them. The stories were part of conversation, connecting with friends. The anecdotes will not die, but no one else will tell them so well, with so much relish. Stephen Green-Armytage

I still see George sitting around my pool reading some hugely cerebral book, talking politics and trying to decide what is an appropriate cocktail time! I loved and love you, George. Lucille Capo-Miller

George epitomized what we have always called the “Soter Spirit,” with that bright twinkle in his eye!  Robert Gardiner

George Soter, a real-life Madman on Madison Avenue in the 1970s.
George Soter, a real-life Madman on Madison Avenue in the 1970s.

If George had been so inclined, he would have been a novelist de nos jours, because no one had a keener eye, or a more tolerant nature. I am blessed for having known him.  Steve Kanfer

Though I’d had word from Peter of George’s impending death, it was nevertheless shocking to hear of its arrival. For George, as everyone whose path he crossed is well aware, gave off the dazzling essence of life in everything he did or said or thought or imagined. In a word, a look, a flick of his cigarette ashes… Stu Hample

Pretty happening dude wearing a Speedo in his 80s. He had, what they call, panache. Georgie, we all adore you and will never forget you. Nina Royal

We miss him so, yet every memory is a celebration of the amazing soul and spirit that forever he is. Tim Wolff

George loved Greece.
George loved Greece.

George was simply larger-than-life. He had a great laugh and that big smile; he was so smart, so handsome, so articulate; his expressive hands would gently hold a pair of worry beads or unhook a piece of silver that was casually, but perfectly, draped over the corner of a piece of furniture, and he’d turn it over, explaining its history, it purpose.   Marella Consolini

I saw your father at a bus stop, and we waited together, and conversed. The conversation went from my quest to accurately depict the McCarthy era in Such Good Friends to inaccuracies he’d identified in the early-1960s-era TV series Mad Men. It struck me then, and it strikes me now upon learning he’s no longer with us, that your father was a treasure-trove, a witness to a fascinating era in America, who remembered details, the fine points that make up the ethos of the time.   Noel Katz

I never see him in my mind’s eye as a solitary figure. There are always people around… Leonard Smith

George S I walked into George’s store one day three years ago, and was immediately struck by the elegant, learned, engaging man who greeted me and who then took me on a “tour” of the various objects in the place: jewelry, fabrics, paintings, figurines. George brought things to life – those objects were surely alive with his love of art and travel. I was so inspired that I wrote a short piece on George and the shop for Columbia magazine. Paul Hond

 I admired the many leafy plants that basked in the great western daylight that flooded into the apartments from New Jersey and beyond. I once asked him how he maintained them in such good condition. “Simple,” George said, “when a plant doesn’t look good any more, I just replace it.”    Judy Kinnersly

 Good bye Georgie, I miss you already. People like you should never die.   Stella Nikolopoulos




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