For all of us who knew or worked with Pat Kramer — either closely or peripherally — his passing is profoundly sad.  He was one of those rare individuals encountered in the government/political world who left an indelible impression, the kind of person who always found his way into reminisces and the “old war stories” swapped at reunions of campaign veterans and those who inhabit New Jersey’s political universe.

I met him shortly after the 1981 gubernatorial primary when I joined the Tom Kean campaign staff.  I had worked in the primary for Burlington County Sen. Barry Parker although my association with Kean went back to 1971 when he hired me as an Assembly staffer.  I received a call from Kramer at the Kean headquarters in Union about a week or so after the primary in which Kramer finished second to Kean.  He told me he had arranged a unity breakfast at his house for all the primary candidates as a show of solidarity for the winner and an unmistakable signal that any hard feelings or disappointments (including his) were over.

When I asked what I could do to help, he replied: “Nothing, I got this.  It’s all set.”   Any indication of resentment or lingering ill will left by the primary were buried over breakfast at Kramer’s kitchen.  It was  vintage Kramer — an understanding of what needed to be done politically, the will to do it and bring others along for a common purpose.  I recall a day long campaign with Kean and Kramer, highlighted by a visit to a senior citizen center in Paterson.  His ability to work the room was extraordinary.  I was in awe of his brilliance as he circled the room, shaking hands with the men, giving a kiss on the cheek to the women all the while talking nonstop about Kean and why it was so important to support him in November.  The seniors loved him back. His performance that day has stuck with me, even 42 years later.

Pat loved his city and its people, a love as deep as it was heartfelt.  Rest in peace, Pat.  Sadly, we will never experience the like of you again.