I never had the opportunity to study with Paul at the New School, but I certainly saw him every week for two years. I would usually be sitting in the courtyard between 11th and 12th streets with my notebook and there would be Paul, sitting on the bench smoking a cigarette. I never had the nerve to introduce myself because he always seemed like he was thinking deep thoughts and I didn't want to disturb a mental poem in progress. One night during my first semester there, I was drinking a Heineken out of a paper bag on the bench when Paul came out, sat down, and lit a cigarette. We both kind of just smiled at each other. Realizing that I was being dumb, I finally turned and said "Hi, Mr. Violi. We've never really been introduced," and held out my hand. "Oh, I know you John," he said, shaking my hand. I remember thinking "Wow, he knows who I am!" and then thought about all the teachers who I actually did study with who didn't know my name. From then on we always greeted each other like we had been friends for years. I didn't know Paul well, but he was the kind of person that made you feel like you did - even in just a passing greeting, he made you feel like you belonged. That courtyard is certainly going to seem just a little bit emptier.