Former Hoboken Municipal Court Judge Ross D. London Dies, Memorial Planned

HOBOKEN, NJ — Dr. Ross D. London, who served as Hoboken's Municipal Court judge in the mid-1990s, passed away on April 25, his family said this week.

London, who was also a Berkeley professor, book author, and playwright, will be commemorated at the Hudson School Theater in Hoboken with a memorial event on June 11 at 2 p.m.

London was born in 1949 and grew up on the border of Bensonhurst and Gravesend in Brooklyn, his son said. He attended SUNY Binghamton and Rutgers Newark.

He served in the Peace Corps in India.

While serving as municipal court judge, he lived in Hoboken. He also has lived in Jersey City, Rutherford, Passaic, Queens, Manhattan, and New Paltz.

He was involved in numerous civic causes, including helping plan the Hoboken Historical Museum.

"A phenomenal judge at the time Hoboken was changing the most," said a Patch reader in the comments below.

London's wife Catherine Baldwin said this week, in a statement:

Ross David London

Ross London died doing what he loved best, working on this beautiful natural landscape that he never stopped creating, a homestead for his family and friends to gather. He died with his boots on, resting on the cosmos hill. His face was at peace, his eyes were open, arms outstretched and open to the sky, full of wonder and gratitude.

He always said, “Family is everything.” He listened so intently to our projects and desires and brought such loving encouragement for each of us to thrive. He nurtured all of the life around him, the meadows, the trees and plants, the cats, the deer, the squirrels and chipmunks, building a sanctuary for all wild life. He was so aware of how precious each moment is. He taught us to look, really look at mountains, a spotted newt, a new kind of mushroom, a painting, and to feel awe and know beauty.

He was a man in the middle of so many on-going projects, with such a passion for learning something new, for traveling to a new and unexplored land. He was always reading multiple books, probing into new ideas, and sharing them with us, always growing, and learning to be a wiser, kinder human.

He was always writing – plays, novels, essays, a textbook work on restorative justice.

(A full obituary will be published later.)

His son Daniel Wortel-London said the following in a eulogy, in part:

Eulogy For Ross London

Dad, I never wanted to speak these words. I never wanted to see you go. There’s so much I still want to learn from you. There’s so much more beauty in the world I wanted to see with you. There is so much life left in me here, that I wanted to spend with you. But I know that you would want me to be brave. And I know that the values you have taught me, and the example you set for me, are rich treasures that will sustain me and help me lead a good life until I can see you again.

My father knew how to wrest treasure from tragedy. His own father, Harry, died in
front of him when he was only a small boy. He grew up in circumstances that were in many
ways difficult and tragic. But from this darkness, my father made of his life an affirming flame.

He said: We are meant to wrestle with life, as the Israelites wrestled with God. We are meant to
cry and dance, we are meant to fight for justice and strive for beauty, we are meant to try. Life
is long, my father said. Not long enough, but long enough for us to do some good on this planet.
And dad, you did so, so much good, in so many ways, for so many people. You were an author, you were a playwright, you were a musician, you were a scholar, you were an architect.

You were a man of law. You made the streets of Jersey City safer for so many families. You brought new life to the parks of Passaic.

You tried to ease the suffering of prisoners and crime victims alike. You tried to bring
healing and dignity to a system in dire need of change.

The day before he died, my father was scheduled to speak with prisoners through SUNY New Paltz. That very day, those prisoners sent Catherine notes of appreciation and condolences. There is so much more work in the world that is left to be done.

But, Dad, the world is different and better now for the love and passion you brought to it. You
made the world better.

But you did more than this. You were a blessing to your family, the family assembled here who loves you so....

I will never stop talking with you, dad. I will never stop learning from you. And until we meet
again, and well after, I will never, EVER stop loving you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.