Stephen Mendelsohn was hit and killed by a car on the evening of June 1, 2025. A devout orthodox Jew, Stephen was walking the two hours from his home in New Britian to his synagogue in West Hartford for Shavuot, a holiday that includes staying up all night to study the Torah. In his final call to his girlfriend, Cathy Ludlum, Stephen was excited to take a two-hour walk to a festivity in which he could then stay up all night studying the Torah.
That was Stephen. He died like he lived. One of the definitions of holiness is separateness, apartness. Not for its own sake but out of dedication to something. Stephen was one of the holiest men I ever met. He was utterly dedicated to his Jewish faith and saw all of reality in relation to it. Including—and here I must rely on the metaphors of my own Christian faith—the many crosses he bore.
Stephen was autistic. He had been abused by a female teacher when he was young. He had been involuntarily committed to a psychiatric facility at one point. These struggles left scars on his personality. But not bitterness. Rather, the experiences imbued Stephen with a deep desire to defend the vulnerable, to advocate for the dignity of all people. That passion, combined with an indomitable faith and a razor-sharp memory and attention to detail, made him an incredible advocate.
Most especially, Stephen was an advocate for disabled persons. That was how we met in 2012. He and Cathy, who has spinal muscular atrophy and uses a motorized wheelchair, reached out to warn me that assisted suicide was coming unless we worked together to stop it. Thus began a partnership—and friendship—with Stephen that continued until his death.
In his notice of Stephen’s death, the Euthanasia Prevention Coalition’s Alex Schadenberg mentions Stephen’s incredible research skills and his gift for finding new ways to talk about, and oppose, assisted suicide. In an article for CTInsider, Hearst Media reporter Jesse Leavenworth interviewed Alex about this and deftly tied in Stephen’s words against assisted suicide with Stephen’s public advocacy on multiple issues. The common theme running through Stephen’s activism in all these matters was his deep regard for the dignity of the human person, made in the image of almighty God.
Stephen’s advocacy did not fit the normal categories of left and right. In his speech for Second Thoughts Connecticut’s 2014 press conference against assisted suicide, for instance, he blames libertarianism for giving rise to assisted suicide and puts those of us who oppose it squarely on the side of Martin Luther King, Jr. At the heart of our common crusade was the understanding that assisted suicide is bad public policy that puts vulnerable people at risk. That for some, the right to die could become the duty to die. That certain people—particularly the disabled—will be deemed Lebensunwertes Leben, “life unworthy of life.” There will be suicide prevention for others but for those deemed a burden, too expensive to care for, assisted suicide.
That shared understanding powered our partnership. I can still hear him on my voice messages. “Peter! All hands on deck!” He was an early warning system. His online monitoring of our opposition’s moves was so good that he knew what they were up to before anyone. When they had some new strategy to game the system, Stephen knew. When they made some linguistic error and revealed their real agendas, Stephen knew.
Stephen did not suffer from false modesty. He knew his gifts. He was competitive with friend and foe alike. He teased me about how he bested a politician in debate who, at least in the politician’s mind, had once bested me. We were happy to celebrate Stephen’s win.
On another occasion, the lead proponent of assisted suicide refused to debate me on the radio, saying he would only appear if we went on separately and if he went after me. It backfired on him. We substituted Stephen for me and the poor fellow had no response when the radio host hit him hard with Stephen’s points. “I bet Appleton is regretting backing out of his agreement to be on air together with Peter Wolfgang,” Stephen wrote on my Facebook. “I had him for dinner back on March 23 at West Hartford Town Hall and I had him for matzo brei on WATR on Tuesday.”
Stephen got a kick out of how his orthodox Judaism seemed to unnerve his secular Jewish opponents at the state Capitol. But his faith was what made him such a compelling figure. Leslie and I were blessed to be his and Cathy’s guests for Sukkot and to have Shabbat with them on the Sabbath. I had hoped to one day read Rabbi Jacob Neusner’s books on Jesus and St. Paul and to engage the topic with Stephen as Pope Benedict did with Neusner. It was not to be.
RIP, Stephen Mendelsohn.
