Sylvia Ross-Epstein, 82, resident of West 4th Street since 1968, passed away Friday, March 9, 2018. She was born August 25th, 1935, in Statesville, North Carolina to the late Clarence Ross and Sarah Johnston Ross. In addition to her parents, she was preceded in death by her husband, Martin Epstein; sons, Jeffrey Ross and Michael Ross; sister, Barbara Ross; brother, Alan Loomis; and great-grandson, Amare. Sylvia attended Hunter College in New York City, where she earned a bachelor’s degree in English Literature. She proudly served in the United States Women’s Army Corps (WAC) in the 1950s. She was a devout Christian and a loving mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. She loved history, cooking, traveling the world and was a diehard Yankees fan since the age of four. She was a champion of civil rights and a staunch advocate of equal rights for all. Those left to cherish her memory are her daughters, Deborah (Minus) Ross-Cole of Auburn, Maine, Eileen (William) Bush of Chicago, Illinois, and Patricia (Troy) Reynolds of Jacksonville, Florida; sons, Brian Thompson of New York City and Terry (Shae) Ross of Corpus Christi, Texas; sister, Carolyn Loomis; nine grandchildren, Michelle Sampson, Rachel Cassarino (James Ventre), Nicholas (Bobbi) Cabral, Timothy White, Richard (Vanessa) Cabral, Rebekah (Randy) Haba, Sean White, Victoria Cabral, Cameron Thompson; and six great-grandchildren, Nalani, Lee, Kara, Luciano, Emma, Scarlett and Ella.
Neighbor Who Will Be Missed
J&V Chinese Laundry at 304 West 11th Street, the street where we live, has just lost its proprietor, Jason. It seems that he took a fall last Friday afternoon and died quite suddenly. I had just seen him that very morning— always he offered up a shy kind of smile and greeting. But later in the day, as I turned the corner onto 11th Street, two ambulances and several other police/fire vehicles were parked near his shop. A man standing there confirmed that it was indeed Jason who they were carrying away to the hospital. That was shocking enough. Seeing people in the store the next morning, I knocked at the door to inquire if he was all right. To my dismay, the woman reported that he had passed away, maybe from a heart attack.
This is totally unexpected and terribly sad news. This was not an old man, nor one who seemed ill. On the contrary, Jason was a hard working launderer six long days a week. If he left to move his car or go buy some lunch, a little note would be pinned to the door— back in 10 minutes. You would enter the shop with your sheets or shirts in hand. Though a mundane task in itself, often enough a conversation would ensue that was anything but mundane. You would leave your laundry and in return receive his handwritten receipt from a small pad of paper with the business name stamped on the page.
A sensitive, thoughtful man with a knowing sense of humor, he was such an easy person to like. He will be sorely missed.
—Laurene Krasny Brown