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Nan Peppard Krauss sent this sad news about her husband and our classmate, Russ Krauss.
Russ died last Friday, the 25th of Sept. He died of Kidney failure. He had been in the hospital since the 22nd. Only a short time. I was unable to see him in the hospital because of Covid 19. It seemed cruel to me but that is what they said. There is no announcement of his death in the paper. He did not want one.
I feel blessed that I was able to get to know Russ. He was the kindest person I have ever met. And so very brilliant. I was just so lucky to be able to spend 9 years with him.
Here is brief biography that appears on Russ’s “author’s page” at amazon.com for his two books of short stories published in 2013 and 2014.
Russell Krauss was born and raised in New Jersey, and graduated from Cornell University with a degree in mathematics. He served as an actuary for a national life insurance company, the last thirteen years as senior vice president and chief actuary, and then established his own software and actuarial consulting practice. He is now retired and lives in Nampa, Idaho with his wife Nancy and two cats. They maintain a second home in the mountain resort town of McCall, Idaho. Russell keeps busy writing software, fiction, and commentary. He is currently working on a science fiction novel.
https://www.amazon.com/Russell-H-Krauss/e/B00DWQMA8Y/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_book_1
Russ’s strangely riveting stories are impossible to put down once you dare to pick them up. Amazon.com describes Russ’s stories this way:
Red Breakers includes twenty-one imaginative tales delving into virtual reality, post-apocalyptic survival, spiritual hauntings, purgatory and more, while introducing a host of unearthly creatures like the Riley clan and the shadpire. Science fiction, psychological horror, fantasy and the unclassifiable can all be found in this volume which consistently challenges conventional wisdom as to the nature of reality itself.
Yellow Footsteps, the long awaited sequel to the short story collection Red Breakers is here! Twenty-three riveting, mind bending tales of speculative fiction will engross the reader from the first to the last. Impossible to put down stories across a sweeping spectrum of hard science fiction, fantasy and psychological horror abound, including an irresistible assortment of yarns that defy classification. Fasten your seat belts for an unforgettable trip through the unknown.
You can reach Nan through this website or at npepcar@yahoo.com
Her address in Idaho is Nan Krauss, 828 Heartland Drive, Nampa, Idaho, 83686
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Linda Linnard (Andre)
Russ had a wonderful way with words, whether he was writing weird but oddly believable stories or sharp social/political commentary. In the last some years, he sent me wonderful cartoons that were always right on target. I will miss having him as a long-distance, kind, and thoughtful friend.
Janet Kipp (Tribus)
We knew him as Rusty when we were elementary school kids. He lived up on Highland Avenue...Our playmates were Carolyn Pierce, Jane Taylor, Donna Lake, Ginger Salmond, Jerry Brown, Brad Stark, maybe Tom Wenner...we would go up in the woods above Highland and create 'communities' sort of like the Wild West with post office, bank, roads. Very creative and fun times!!
Lennie Stovel
I read most of the stories in Russ's two books. As I was reading, I was always thinking of The Twilight Zone -- the same suspense and surprise outcomes. I enjoyed the stories.
John Taylor
Russ, Rusty, “Goose”: he had several names growing up. If memory serves correctly, and it doesn’t always, we met in kindergarten class. At some point in the next few years we began to walk to school together. We continued to go to school together, walking to Bradford and Mt. Hebron and either riding the Bus 60 or walking to Montclair High every day all those years. We met at the corner of Normal and Highland Avenues every morning.We did a lot of things together, rode our bikes, played kill-the-man-with-ball, baseball, basketball, ran around the track at Montclair State together, crushed the weeds in his next door lot while rolling downhill in a large cardboard box. We spent a lot of time together in classes. We spent a lot of time wandering around on the “mountain”, behind my parents’ house. We talked a lot about anything and everything. We took our first drinks together by snitching it from our parents’ supplies. We had our first smokes (cigarette and pipe) together. That ended, though, one day while smoking at the corner of Valley Rd and Lorraine Ave waiting for the bus home. To our chagrin a car came along side the curb, the window rolled down, an arm stretched from the driver’s seat toward me, the index finger extended, the hand turned palm upward and the index finger beckoned me to come over. We were in Junior High at the time. The driver was my mother. I don’t know about Russ, but I haven’t had a puff since. Without any intent to disparage anyone else, or his or my own relationships with anyone else, it is hard to believe that either of us spent more time with anyone else from school than we spent together during those thirteen years. We learned with and from each other. We laughed together and shared each other’s concerns. In short, we grew up together.
We may have seen each other a few times while on vacation during college but work and life after college sent us in different directions. Much of that time, if not half a world apart, we were at least half a continent apart. We never saw each other again. That is to my detriment. Russ, Rusty, “Goose” was a truly good friend. These few memories remind me of that.
Jack (John) Taylor