In an extended family that prides itself on scholarship and learning, Anthony Arlotto was the consummate scholar. The last-born in a long line of brilliant and learned Arlottos, Anthony attended St. Peter’s Prep where he was recognized as having unique talents in the field of language. There, he was placed into the challenging Greek curriculum, meaning that in addition to the already formidable course of study at this famous Jesuit institution, he was required to master ancient Greek—and all the classics that were taught in Greek: The Iliad, The Odyssey, The Greek dramas. In Greek! One needn’t be reminded that this was in addition to 4 years of Latin: Caesar’s Commentaries on the Gallic Wars, Vergil’s AEneid— plus all the other subjects—math, religion, history and the rest. At all of which he excelled. Oh, and yes. He had to study and master French as well.

Master it he did. The Greek, the Latin, the French. So much so, that when he continued with higher education at Boston College he was naturally drawn deeper and deeper into the study of languages. His achievements and honors piled up. A Fulbright scholarship. The Wilson grant. And with them, invitations to study throughout Europe.

Anthony was the first of the Arlottos to break into the prestigious world of the Ivy League, eventually entering, then completing doctoral studies at the renowned Harvard University. And we all remember what it felt like to be relatives of a Harvard scholar. None of us were surprised by his entry to Harvard. Of course not! He was supremely qualified. But it was a first for us, and we each felt a surge of pride at the blood ties we shared with this Harvard professor.

What’s more, we felt our values were vindicated by his achievement. Intelligence, study, knowledge—in his case, genius—were rightly rewarded. And he was one of us. His accomplishments, his gifts, his achievements were, in some measure, ours, as well. Who among us didn’t report with pride —to anyone whom we wanted to impress—that our uncle, our brother, our cousin—was a professor at Harvard? And why shouldn’t we?

He was the first of our clan to study abroad. The courage that he had to muster! I remember helping him pack and seeing him off. In those days it was a trans-Atlantic voyage on a ship. In a sense, we all traveled vicariously with him. We all became world citizens through him, through Anthony’s experiences and stories, through the situations he encountered, the people he met, and the cities in which he lived. We shared in the broadened horizons that he opened for all of us.

And in his studies and travels he kept taking on fluency in more and more languages. Dutch, Russian, German. Chinese. Turkish. Eventually he had become one of the world’s great authorities on language itself. He authored books on general and historical linguistics. He was tapped to serve as an editor of the American Heritage Dictionary.

After Harvard, there was Stanford University where he attained a Stanford M.B.A. to go along with his Harvard Ph.D. He served as the treasurer of the famous home office of the Wells Fargo Bank in San Francisco. Imagine it! From Harvard professor of linguistics to treasurer of one of America’s most historic and famous banks.

But after a few years he was bound to return home. The illness and passing of my mother—his sister Millie—convinced him that he must return to New Jersey to be with and to cherish the company of his family. We—his relatives—once again became for Anthony what we always had been: the center of his life.
His presence was a given at every family gathering, every holiday. His scintillating conversation and the home made delicacies he prepared were constants at family events. His knowledge and education were in a very real sense placed at our disposal. He had always had an uncanny ability to absorb knowledge from the printed page, and to retain with crystal clarity whatever he learned. Therefore his reservoir of knowledge was vast. He put that encyclopedic knowledge at our disposal. Questions about law or history, money or cultures, current events or business were easily put to rest by just asking Anthony. He could settle a bet or controversy by summoning up the correct answer to your question from his tremendous store of knowledge; just he had done in the academic world his entire life.

He approached people and issues without prejudice or bias. He was not in the least opinionated. He knew politics inside and out, but was a political Libertarian, distancing himself from the petty partisanship of Republicans and Democrats. He was generally cheerful and gregarious, although he could sometimes be sensitive. Even—on a few famous occasions—temperamental. What were we to expect of an eccentric genius? The overriding truth is that he never lost sight of where he came from and who mattered to him—Us! —His family!

Finally, he will always be remembered as that rare and unbiased person with whom you could have a really intelligent and informative conversation. And for that, he will be missed.

His loving nephew John Ambrose Jr. on behalf of the entire Arlotto and Colaneri extended families

Stay away with that toxic blue hand, Ian!

Don’t worry, the blue dye on that tongue will fade over the next month or so!

Yes, the red cupcake stains as badly as does the blue, Sascha, but it tastes as good!

One person managed to stay neat throughout the otherwise messy process: Cecilia.

Mischa was more concerned with displaying his handiwork in the form of modern, instant pisanki eggs
Vera was deadly serious about her chocolate bunny

Sascha with chocolate bunny

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