Rob Stengel, 1988-2022

Rob and I met at NYU about 12 years ago. We were student journalists and philosophy majors—two clubs full of undergraduates with strong personalities and strongly held opinions. Surrounded as he was by people who were eager to prove how smart and interesting they were, Rob stood out for his relative reserve and even temper. The contrast grew even more pronounced over time as he deepened his friendships with a select group of loud eccentrics (of which I was one of the less loud but probably more eccentric ones). These loud eccentrics gradually coalesced into a unit. Rob didn’t often elbow his way into the center of attention, but he was the glue that ended up binding me to some of my other closest friends.

Despite being pitched at a lower key than the rest of us, Rob was weird. It took me a while to figure this out. It turned out the skinny white kid in the black slim fit jeans had spent much of his pre-college life roughing it in the woods of Western New York. He loved Brooklyn but he loved backpacking too. He looked like a hipster—in fact he was a hipster—but he’s also the guy who took me shooting at his parents’ home in the sticks.

Going to college at NYU, you meet a lot of kids who try very hard to be interesting. I was one of them. But Rob didn’t need to try; he was interesting. He was interesting because he was curious. Curious about the weirdos he surrounded himself with; about books, film, and music; about politics and history; and about cities.

His curiosity and interests opened up the world for those who were closest to him. I doubt his wife Ashley ever saw herself backpacking in Yosemite before they met. As for me, Rob’s interest in cities probably helped to change the trajectory of my life. He was the first guy I knew who didn’t just like cities but liked to think hard about how they functioned. He wanted to know why the subway was too slow or too crowded. And he wanted to think about how it could be made better.

Before I started really talking to Rob, things like public transportation and housing costs felt like weather systems; I loved New York, but I didn’t appreciate its complexity as a system, much less the human forces that contributed to its successes and failures. Rob deepened my love for the city and cities in general. I learned a lot from him. Without him, I probably wouldn’t be doing what I do now.

Rob was diagnosed with cancer in 2019, but somehow it never occurred to me that we would lose him anytime soon. He was too much of a stable presence to die. And he was too busy starting the next chapter of his life; after years of talking about it, he was finally starting law school. He was going to be a lawyer; he and Ashley were going to get married one day and have kids.

So even after Rob’s cancer came back, I was stunned to learn Rob was making end of life arrangements. It seemed—and still seems—unspeakably cruel and unfair.

But Rob and Ashley are two people who inspire fierce loyalty. After Rob’s cancer returned, a GoFundMe to support him and Ashley raised more than $180,000. And it took a week from when Rob started palliative care for some friends to plan an amazing wedding for him and Ashley. It’s a testament to them both that they had such a community—almost as much as Ashley’s support for Rob over the past few years has been a testament to her strength.

The last time I saw Rob alive was the day after the wedding. He was exhausted and so, so thin. But I saw a little fire in him when he showed me what had arrived in the mail that day: his law school diploma. Living in the presence of death, he had won a last victory.

Rest in peace, buddy. I’m grateful for how you enriched our lives with the time you had. I just wish you had a little more.

P.S. — You can read more about Rob on Ashley’s Twitter account.

And one more thing you should know about Rob: He had impeccable taste in music. For a while, he kept a little Tumblr where he’d just post links to great songs on YouTube. I’ve been visiting the blog every once in a while since I learned he was dying; the experience has been a little bit like leafing through your coolest friend’s vinyl collection. Check it out here.