In Memoriam
Steven P. Floman
January 8, 2024
Steve Floman ’64 died on January 7, 2024, in New Haven, CT. Lee Sigal ’64 reported Steve’s death as follows:
I'm sad to report that Steve suffered a fatal heart attack on January 7. A graduate of Hillhouse High School in New Haven, he resided in Saybrook College. Practicing law in New Haven until his death, Steve could always be counted on for his judiciousness by friends and clients alike. He is survived by his wife, Susan, whom he began dating in high school, along with a brother, a son and daughter, and six grandchildren.
See below for his obituary, for a remembrance from a classmate, and for the essays he wrote for four reunion books over the last 35 years.
- Obituary, New Haven Register
- Remembrance by Steve Delman ’64
- Essay, 60th Reunion Book
- Essay, 50th Reunion Book
- Essay, 40th Reunion Book
- Essay, 25th Reunion Book
Obituary
New Haven Register
January 8, 2024
Steve Floman
1964 Yale graduation
Steven Floman passed away on January 7, 2024, with his wife of 57 years, Susan, by his side. He was 81 years old. Steve was born in New Haven, Connecticut on June 24,1942, the son of Lillian and Benjamin Floman. He graduated from Yale University in 1964, the University of Pennsylvania Law School in 1967, and obtained a Master's of Science and Taxation from the University of New Haven in 1985.
Throughout his 50+ year career in the law, Steve was always committed to helping the underdog, including those who could not afford counsel and the elderly. Steve was widely recognized for his commitment to pro bono — in 1995 and 1997 by the Connecticut Bar Association, and again in 2017 as a Half-Century Honoree at the Connecticut Bar Association's Celebrate Stars event. Steve was also committed to teaching and mentoring those around him, teaching business law and evidence for many years as an adjunct professor at the University of New Haven, and volunteering as an Attorney Trial Referee and Arbitrator for the Connecticut state court system.
Steve Floman
recently
Beyond his many professional achievements, Steve was a wonderful and dedicated friend. He remained close to his Hillhouse and Yale classmates, participating in weekly Zoom calls with many. He was an avid Yale sports fan, agonizing over every football and basketball loss, and cheering with abandon when Yale won. He lived for his Boston Red Sox. He loved being silly, and could often be found singing (off-key) and dancing to whatever music happened to be playing. And he was ever the intellectual, taking courses at Yale long after he retired, even if it meant sneaking into the lecture halls to do so.
But what mattered most to Steve was family. He was a dedicated husband for 57 years to his wife Susan, whom he started dating in high school. He was a loving father to his daughter Betsy and her husband Scott (Fishbone), and to his son Jonathan. He was a beloved brother to Gerry Floman. And most of all, he was the incredibly proud grandfather of his six grandchildren, Lucas, Alex, Kate, Sebastian, Cameron, and Caroline. His greatest pleasure in life was spending time with them, goofing around, learning about their interests, and trying to instill in them his love of New York Times crossword puzzles. His legacy will live on forever in each of them.
Funeral services will be held at Robert E. Shure & Son Funeral Home, 543 George Street, New Haven on Wednesday, January 10 at 11:00am, with interment services to follow at Beth Israel Cemetery, 855 Derby Milford Road, Orange, NJ. Shiva will be held at the Floman's home, 84 Hillside Avenue, Milford on Wednesday from 4:00pm to 8:00pm, Thursday from 1:00pm to 4:00pm and Friday 1:00pm to 4:00pm. Donations in Steve's memory, in lieu of flowers, may be made to the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation, merkelcell.org, or the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation. To sign an online registry book or to leave a message of condolence, please visit www.shurefuneralhome.com.
Remembrance by Steve Delman ’64
January 13, 2024
Lee Sigal reported the untimely passing on January 7 of Steve Floman and paid tribute to our fellow New Haven “townie” and Hillhouse High School and Yale College ’64 classmate. Lee also posted the local obituary and essays that Steve had written for prior reunion books, as well as his recently completed essay for the book being compiled for our upcoming 60th reunion in May. The obituary from the New Haven Register and Steve’s own writings give us but a small sense of the measure of this man, the consummate small-town lawyer who never forgot his roots and dedicated his life, through his education, professional training, work experience, teaching, and widely-recognized pro bono activities, to bettering the lives of those around him.
It is hard for me to find the words to describe this person I have known for 65 years except to say I can think of no one more deserving to be viewed as a role model for our times. Behind his calm, soft-spoken demeanor was a keen mind always ready to address the many problems and issues for which clients, friends, family members, and strangers sought his advice. Sensible, thoughtful, practical, reasonable, empathetic, wise, honest, and nonjudgmental — that was the Steve I knew. That sounds like a very serious person, but he had a wry sense of humor and a great laugh. Steve was fun to be with — particularly when cheering on the Yale football team in the Yale Bowl.
Unlike most of us in the Class of ’64, Steve and his high-school-sweetheart bride came back to his beloved New Haven community after law school and established a law practice where the integrity of the man was constantly on display, He provided legal assistance to countless clients and innumerable beneficiaries of his volunteer work, while providing the benefit of his legal wisdom to the next generation through his teaching and mentoring activities.
Steve, Lee, and I, as well as nine other Hillhouse grads who entered Yale with us, were members of a Hillhouse class of over 600, yet when the subject of class reunions came up for that class, it was always Steve who carried the banner, pulled events together, and made numerous high-school reunions a reality. Steve was the Rock of Gibraltar of that class, respected by all in a class characterized by its diversity. In the 65 years I have known Steve, I never heard a negative comment about him from anyone.
Although I was never a member of Steve’s “inner circle” in my high-school days, I've been blessed over the post-Hillhouse years with occasionally seeing Steve and Susan at Yale football games and reunions and even seeing them socially at their Woodmont home. And though the COVID pandemic was a terrible time for many of us, it brought a change in the relationship that a number of our Hillhouse classmates had with Steve. Since the pandemic began, a group of us, including Steve and Lee, have gotten together nearly every week for a Zoom call. For most of us it has been the only good thing to come out of the pandemic. Bonding through those Zoom calls and benefiting week after week from Steve’s intelligent viewpoints on the myriad topics we discussed — politics, family, health, travel, films, books, TV series, careers, and so on — we all became a part of the broader Floman family. Steve was always the one among us we all looked up to.
This past summer Steve and Susan hosted a cocktail party for a number of our group at their home, followed by, of course, a pizza party at West Haven’s Zuppardi’s. In recent months, Steve was diagnosed with a rare form of melanoma, which he faced with optimism and endured a difficult course of treatment with a determination to beat it. Indeed, it was just several weeks ago that he gave us the great news that it appeared he had done just that. Soon we could begin to think about enlisting Steve’s help in arranging another Hillhouse reunion and planning for our upcoming Yale 60th. Steve’s heart attack was a total shock to all of us — he was so full of life. My heart goes out to Susan, his children, and his grandchildren. Such a loss for them and for us.
Essay, 60th Reunion Book
December 22, 2023
by Steve Floman
[Steve wrote this essay five months before his planned attendance at his 60th Reunion. He died 16 days after he finished writing it.]
It's quite astonishing to be writing a piece for my 60th Yale reunion. Never in a million years did I think I'd be alive to do that. My father died at 46. I started by looking back at what I've written for other reunion books. I wrote for the 25th, the 40th, and the 50th. There's a comforting consistency: Susan, Betsy, Jon, grandchildren as they came along, friends and family, laughter (sometimes at my expense), intellectual stimulation, wit, curiosity, creativity, and lots of good luck. Writing for the 60th is a kind of "wrapping things up" experience.
I'm not sure I've gained enough new wisdom between the 50th and the 60th to make it reportable, so I'm going to stick with the stories I've told already. I have thought lots about the friends I've lost over the years, most recently my dear friend Terry Holcombe. A diagnosis of Merkel cell carcinoma in May, 2022 has thrust my own mortality front and center. So, as I reflect on the past and the future, I'm fortunate to be able to say it's been a great ride. I couldn't have asked for more.
Essay, 50th Reunion Book
June, 2014
by Steve Floman
It’s June, 1964. I’m working the Yale 50th to make a few extra bucks. The guys coming back look so content and at ease Don’t they know they’re in their early 70’s? That’s so old! They’re practically done. Why are they so happy?
It’s June, 1964. I’m back for my 50th. Why is that young kid staring at me? My, how the world has changed since 1914: two World Wars; the depression; women vote; the colonial era is over; prohibition; exploding air and auto travel; television, communism; nuclear weapons. The world never has seen as many social, scientific, and geopolitical changes as in the past 50 years.
It’s June, 2014. I’m working the Yale 50th to make a few extra bucks. The guys coming back look so content and at ease. Why not? They’re only in their early 70’s. They still have lots of good years.
It’s June, 2014. I’m back for my 50th. Why is that young kid staring at me? My, how the world has changed since 1964: Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan; crumbling mideastern countries; women do anything men do; computers, email, the internet, social networking; global warming; the world is flat; political and religious extremism; the new American demographic. The world never has seen as many social, scientific, and geopolitical changes as in the past 50 years.
It’s June, 2064, etc.
Enough said about my theory of relativity. On a personal note, I’m so lucky to be here. Even better, to be here in reasonably good health, with a fair amount of energy, continuing intellectual curiosity (thank you, Yale), friends, Susan, my wife, who makes me smile and happy every day, work that satisfies and energizes, my children, Betsy and Jon, and my six grandchildren, all loving and caring. My father died at 46 when I was 15 and that had an enormous impact on my life. There’s a part of my psyche that never thought I would make it to this age and in this degree of repair.
Sure, I have people in my life that weren’t there a while ago. There’s the internist, urologist, gastroenterologist, cardiologist, hematologist, orthopedist (Jokl), physical therapist, and dermatologist. Even with these add ons, though, I’ve been lucky.
Sure, there have been ups and downs, minor gripes, and feelings of why in the world did I do that or why in the world didn’t I do that? Even so, the past 50 years have been happy, fulfilling, and satisfying.
And the future? I hope more of the same for as long as it can last. When it ends, though, I hope my kids or grandkids or others I may have touched over the years will, from time to time, remember something that brings a smile, something that helps in a jam, something that is wise, something that brings comfort and ease.
Essay, 40th Reunion Book
June, 2004
by Steve Floman
When I had my 42nd high-school reunion in 2002, they said write and tell us about your family, your occupation, your interests, and your life highlights, and I did. Not a lot has changed since then so I am using that same format.
FAMILY: My wife Susan and I have been married for 37 years. We dated all through my four years at Yale, and many of my Yale friends have known Susan for that long. Our 37 years have been (for me — I can’t speak for Susan) happy years I never could have imagined. We have two children, Betsy (now Fishbone) and Jon, and two grandchildren, Alexander and Lucas.
OCCUPATION: I am an attorney in a seven-lawyer firm in Orange, CT. I have been at the same location since 1977. Most of what I do involves representing plaintiffs in personal-injury litigation and medical-negligence cases. I really like what I do. It energizes me, stimulates me, and gives me a real feeling of satisfaction. If you take a less romantic view of what I do, you would say I am an ambulance chaser.
INTERESTS: I enjoy reading fiction, contemporary and non-contemporary. I enjoy listening to classical music. I like to try to identify trees and birds. One would think identifying a tree is easy. It doesn’t move and you can stand in front of it with a dozen different guidebooks for as long as you want. Even with those advantages, it’s difficult to make the identification. I enjoy running. I enjoy dancing. I enjoy acting silly with my friends.
LIFE HIGHLIGHTS: It’s hard to pick out specific events. Running the New York Marathon for the first time in 1979 is right up there. I ran with three close friends. We all had trained together. The bonding among the four of us was special in a way that is hard to describe, and has not been duplicated. Our daughter Betsy’s wedding. The seven hours of the wedding were the most joyous seven hours I ever have experienced. The birth of our twin grandsons on August 15, 2002 and the time we have spent with them since. The look my son had in his eyes when he danced with his wife on their wedding day.
ANYTHING ELSE? I’m astonished when I think about the dramatic ways our world has changed since 1964. Yet, if one takes an historical perspective, is my astonishment any more dramatic than that experienced by the generations that dealt with the introduction of the airplane, or the telephone, or the light bulb, or the transcontinental railroad, or the printing press, etc., etc.? Probably not.
Essay, 25th Reunion Book
June, 1989
by Steve Floman
Observations on Life and Times
The past twenty-five years (but particularly the most recent past several) have been characterized by a slowly evolving professional, intellectual, psychological (but not physical) growth which has energized me with a zest that seems to pervade virtually all facets of my life.
I have developed a passion for many of those intellectual pursuits I somewhat studiously avoided at Yale: classical music, art, theatre, and literature. My mother and mother-in-law were right; there is much more to a liberal-arts education than economics and political science. I often muse that if I could have my four Yale years back to do over, I would do them right this time.
After graduation from law school, I spent about five years with the New Haven Legal Assistance Association, Inc., providing legal services to individuals financially unable to hire private counsel. I entered that work naively, thinking there were bright lines of demarcation between good guys and bad guys, and that my clients — the poor, the powerless — were the good guys. The reality, of course, is far more complex. Intellectually, I understood this fairly quickly; emotionally, it took much longer.
I now am engaged in the private practice of law. My firm consists of five attorneys, four partners and one associate. Interestingly, each of us has some affiliation with Yale, either having attended Yale College or Yale Law School.
Our firm is a general-practice firm. Within the firm, my area of expertise increasingly has been litigation, particularly plaintiff’s personal injury litigation and medical-negligence cases. I find litigation very satisfying personally and professionally. It combines elements of puzzle-solving, theatre, and teaching, all of which I enjoy. It allows me to express myself creatively, imaginatively, and cleverly (sometimes).
I have become very involved with running (I don’t like to call it jogging). I began to run in my sophomore year when it was confined to one mile around the swimming pool at Payne Whitney or the intramural athletic fields. I continued running in that fashion until Labor Day, 1977, when some friends introduced me to the pleasures of longer runs and diverse locales. Since then, my running horizons have expanded; perhaps, exploded. I run about six days each week, but sometimes I run for 30 or 40 days in a row without taking a day off.
On those occasions when I run alone I often see complex issues very clearly. Without any conscious effort, ideas float into my mind, seemingly from nowhere, that simply elude the conscious mind. I do believe there is such a thing as runner’s high.
There are many other occasions when I run with a group of men, ranging in age from 25 to 55. We leave at 6:15 each morning from the Lapham Field House. Many in our running group of 15 or so have nothing in common with one another but our running; yet, there immediately developed an intense feeling of warmth, understanding, and respect which I cherish deeply. I think it must be as my father felt about his pinochle buddies.
My wife Susan is my best friend. I love her; perhaps even more importantly, I like her. The love and the like are quite different than they were thirty years ago (we began dating in 1959) — different because richer, more diverse, more secure. We have two children whom we adore. By the time of our reunion, Betsy will have completed her sophomore ear at Lafayette College and Jon will have completed his senior year in high school and be heading off to some college or university as yet unselected. There is no one who makes me happier — no one I would rather be with — than Susan, Betsy, and Jon.
All in all, I consider myself fortunate indeed to feel as joyful about the present as I do.