Paul Rogen

— Paul Rogen was a Guilford remarkable human being, beloved by many. Every morning Paul sat down in his stuffed chair with his NYT reading nothing until he read the obituaries. Let’s make a good one for him.

Born in 1945 in Menominee, Wisc., Paul was not born in a manger. But his father was a chaplain and his mother a social worker. They helped people on the margins — not to save them, but to help them find their way in an unfriendly world. His dad had a wanderlust — with 15 moves across his career — while his mom could have stayed in one place her whole life.

The second of four Rogen offspring, Paul spent his formative years, 8 to 16, in Anaconda, a rugged mining town in southwestern Montana. When the kids were spreading their wings to leave home, his mom fed them a good meal and sent them on their way, but she had an allergy to moving and could not pack even one more box. Paul was not tall or hefty, yet played football and basketball in his school years.

He graduated from Augustana College, a small Lutheran school in Sioux Falls, S.D., and ventured east to earn a master’s degree in history at the University of New Hampshire. Paul enjoyed every bit of college. He loved to read and had a mind that could absorb and remember it all. He was hoping to be a professor, but the Vietnam War got in the way. Paul was extremely opposed to the Vietnam War by nature and nurture. As a reader and student of history, Paul knew the origins of and mess going on in Vietnam. He exhausted his deferments and registered as a conscientious objector, which kept him out of the Army, but still required two years of community service. Paul relocated to California, fulfilling his CO duties working with patients in a mental hospital and helping prisoners find jobs after their release, while studying education at Berkeley. He did two more years of service then went into the working world using his talents in managing operations in many businesses connected mostly to eyeglass frames. He enjoyed his 25 years in the Bay Area being part of the many political issues of the ’60s and ’70s: civil rights, free speech and Vietnam,

He met his wife, Linda, who had recently moved to Berkeley, and they began to form a family, as Jacob, Peter and Elena came into their lives. Paul and family enjoyed their easy access to skiing and hiking in the Sierra Nevadas. At one point Paul worked at the warehouse for The Nature Company. He relished having things in order! Pretty quickly, they recognized his organizing abilities and promoted him to operations manager. He was then hired by a French eyewear company as distribution manager and in 1988 was offered a job at LAMY in Connecticut. There, he hired Peter Thomson, an IT specialist from Scotland who also happened to be an accomplished cyclist who had raced throughout Europe.

Peter turned Paul’s lifelong love of biking into something more serious. Turning the pedals of his road bike became a way of life for Paul. Peter and Paul founded what eventually became the premier adventure bike touring company in Europe, Thomson Bike Tours. Biking kept Paul in great shape, and in great company, as he explored the world on two wheels. The neighborhood biking group came to be known as the Dunk Rock Roadies. Paul told Coastal Connecticut Magazine that he’d still be biking when he was 78, “even if on a tricycle.”

In the last decades of his life, Paul focused on what he loved most — helping people, teaching, learning, reading, biking, traveling and canoeing with Linda and being a grandpa. After leaving the eyewear company in 2000, he took a job at Ben Haven, managing a home for four men with autism, helped lead tours at Thomson Bike Tours, was a dedicated biker, and finally became a college professor, teaching history at Housatonic Community College, a job he loved ... and they loved him. He was passionately involved with his wife, three children and three grandchildren, Rain, Autumn and Summer. Many summers he and Linda organized a summer camp at their home for the grandkids called Camp Whackadoo.

As a person, Paul was well known for his stubbornness, hatred of change (anything new) and love of family. He could also be opinionated, grumpy and persnickety and had little willingness to change his mind. If he thought any of us were off-base in our thinking, he didn’t hesitate to let us know. He was warm, loving and funny, striking up a conversation with almost everyone he met, leading sometimes to a long, usually insightful and filled with historical information discussion not everyone wanted to hear. “I did not sign up for this class,” his wife sometimes told him. His home was his castle and after moving so many times in his childhood, he reveled in living on Dunk Rock Road for 35 years and was often referred to as the mayor of Dunk Rock Road.

Paul loved a cozy fire in the living room’s wood-burning stove as well as the work it took to gather, chop and carry it in. With a book or magazine on his lap on chilly afternoons and evenings, he often settled into a nap. He loved his friends and wanted to include as many as possible in his daily life. He has been an unwavering friend to many and received true friendship in return. Mostly he wanted to include Linda in every part of his life.

Paul needed always to move and loved to travel. This spring, he traveled to India for a five-week trip with a friend, then took his son and grandson, joined by other men friends and their sons, to California to ski in the high mountains. Then, on a twoweek rigorous Thomson tour in Spain, where he successfully biked with his e-bike up high mountains. Paul was severely injured on a freak bike accident while riding with a friend on Aug. 4, 2023, only six days before he turned 78. After a painful, miserable 18 days in the hospital, he was supported at home to heal. Slowly over the days his wife Linda cared for him, his body was showing to be hopelessly broken and he was put on life support Friday, Sept. 1. With his entire family at his side, Paul died as his life support was removed Sept. 2, 2023.

Paul was a loyal friend of the heart. He was a perpetual learner, a teller of stories, an adventurer (trekking off to India) and a man of passion who wasn’t afraid to show his love for people with genuine kindness of heart, warmth and a sense of humor, usually accompanied by a puckish grin. He preferred nature and simplicity and wasn’t always comfortable with change.

One of the great attributes, which complemented his sometimes intractability, was his willingness and ability to self-reflect and course correct when needed (with a prompt/ push from Linda). He was an incredibly loving man and friend who not only radiated love to his friends and family, but to the world. We will miss his light and laugh.