Celebrating ....

CELEBRATING The PJ's 48th YEAR! * www.junto.blogspot.com * Dr Franklin's Diary * Contact @ PhiladelphiaJunto@ymail.com * Join us at Facebook and @philabooksarts *Meeting @ Philadelphia * Empowered by WritersClearinghouse.

Monday, 14 September 2020

RALPH JAMES WATT R.I.P.

Ralph at NYU:
The Washington Square Journal (1967)

Journalist Colleague Friend

Ralph James Watt, a journalist, colleague, and friend, died Friday,16 August 2019, in Paris. Born and raised in Alliance, Nebraska, he was a graduate of New York University where he studied journalism and dug in his heels as a burgeoning iconoclast. As such, he fit in nicely among a group of Young Turk editors of the student daily newspaper, The Washington Square Journal. 

Ralph lived in Paris for many years, moving there shortly after his NYU graduation to be near his girlfriend from NYU, who had already moved to France. . When she moved to London, he stayed, working contract and
Ralph in Paris


freelance writing assignments.

He was his late 60s, or early 70s at his death at Hopital Salpetiere, Paris. He had been hospitalized there while being treated for 'multiple fractures.'

Ralph was unwell frequently over the years, and used a cane to support his overweight carriage. The resulting image gave him the air of a Romance poet as he did his best to navigate the byways of his neighborhood on the Left Bank.

The last time I saw him, in 2015 in Paris, he had just recovered from sprained foot, which had kept him confined to bed for a week. In a email I received from him a year later, he said, 'I have spent most of the year in hospital, due to major issues.'

Ralph was smart, learned, and a warm friend. An example of his generosity was exhibited during a long night out at a restaurant, Louis Vins. I was drinking then, and our bill—my bill actually since Ralph was my guest—was expanding as were our waistlines. On leaving, I settled the bill with the patronne, and we parted merrily on our way. Ralph insisted on walking. I took a taxi to my hotel on the Right Bank.

It was only when I got settled in my room that I looked at the restaurant receipt. There was something wrong! I was charged only 10 euros. Ralph had pulled off a neat trick. He had arranged the deception beforehand with the patronne.
—Richard Carreño