Sam Falzone, 77, completed what he liked to describe as his “ride on the wave of life” on October 30, 2025, when — after a courageous journey with cancer — he finally reached “the beach,” surrounded by the family whose love sustained him every mile of the way.
Born in Philadelphia and raised in a big, loud, endlessly loving Italian family in Trenton, N.J., Sam was formed early by gatherings where the food was abundant, the music was loud and the laughter was louder. Summers in Cape May Point — where the lighthouse blinked like an old friend and the ocean seemed to call him by name — rooted his lifelong love of the sea. Decades later that same beach became a pilgrimage point for his own children, who returned with him one last time this June to honor the place that helped make him who he was.
Sam possessed a singular talent for transforming ordinary spaces into whimsical worlds. His family’s single upstairs bathroom — packed with seashells, flippers-turned-shampoo-holders, sea-glass mosaics and a dolphin sculpture — was a 45-year testament to both his artistic imagination and his family’s patience. Those who survived that bathroom could survive anything.
But his creativity didn’t stop at interior design experiments of the nautical variety. Sam was also the architect of the now legendary whiskey-barrel-ring mobiles — kinetic works of art he crafted with care, balance and a touch of magic. Today they sway in yards across the country, catching light, breeze and the admiration of everyone who happens upon them. They are, in effect, small pieces, gently turning in the wind of Sam’s worldview: that you can manifest your happy place and that optimism, properly tended, can become its own kind of sculpture.
Music was Sam’s lifelong language. After receiving a Gene Autry guitar as a child, he never stopped playing. He moved through bands the way others move through hairstyles — from the Motown-infused Rubytones to the rock band Cut Glass and ultimately to Midlife Chrysler, the Vermont outfit he founded in his forties that built a loyal following and capped its run with an epic final performance at Club Metronome in early 2000. He was fluent in guitar but never above dabbling in banjo, mandolin or ukulele — especially if it added flair.
Sam was also a man of rituals, most notably his seasonal habit of balancing an egg on every solstice and equinox. This tradition inspired countless others to test the limits of eggs, gravity and patience, all in celebration of welcoming life’s next season with a wink.
After attending Trenton Community College to play soccer, Sam enlisted in the U.S. Air Force and served in a reconnaissance technical squadron in Okinawa, Japan, during the Vietnam War, reviewing film to determine whether missions hit their targets. When his service ended, he turned his focus from global horizons to local ones, beginning a career in housing that would define his professional legacy.
At the Vermont Housing Finance Agency, where he worked for 38 years, Sam became something of an in-house bard. Celebrating a birthday? A retirement? A new baby? Sam wrote you an ode. Feeling hungry? He probably brought you a risotto built from whatever ingredients he unearthed at home. Need a pick-me-up? He’d appear with his Martin guitar and a song. During a turbulent year on a personal level, a colleague assured him he would “find his snorkel,” and, naturally, Sam responded by writing a song called “Snorkel.” And naturally, it was amazing and his most recognized song of all time.
But above all, Sam was a family man — or, more accurately, a family superfan. His children were his greatest pride and his grandchildren his greatest joy. If you ever walked into Sam’s home on Marion Street, you were likely welcomed with a melody, a fire in the hearth, a bottle of good wine or a signature homemade limoncello over ice, and a meal so delicious you’d talk about it for weeks. He taught us to savor the simple wonders: the ocean’s rhythm, the glow of a comet, the quiet wisdom of trees, the healing power of laughter and the unmatched joy of loving people well.
In January 2024, Sam and his partner and love, Jean Bernstein, moved to the seacoast of Maine with plans to walk beaches, collect sea glass, and maintain the delicate life balance he preached — and practiced — with enviable consistency.
Sam leaves behind an adoring (and occasionally overfed) family: his long-term partner, Jean, of Kittery, Maine; son Guthrie and wife Aishling of Kittery Point, Maine; daughter, Caitlin, of Stowe, Vt.; son Sander and wife Melissa of Barrington, N.H.; his brother, Joseph, and brother-in-law, Joseph, of Philadelphia; and six grandchildren — Emarie, Wheatley, Corbin, Evan, Malin and Nathan — each of whom lit up his unmistakable sparkle. He reunites now with his loving parents, Alfonso and Rose, who no doubt greeted him with a full Italian spread the moment he arrived.
His motto remains a gentle directive to all who loved him: Don’t sweat the small stuff. Find balance. Give back. Be kind. Love hard. And enjoy every free trip around the sun you’re given — because life is fleeting and beaches are waiting.
A celebration of life to honor our amazing Sammy will be held in the Burlington, Vt., area in spring 2026. An announcement will be made with details in the coming months.
This article appears in The Winter Preview Issue 2025.
Sam, my friend and fellow musician. I just got this news today and immediately was flooded with great memories of time spent with this energetic and kind soul. We met when I first moved to Burlington in 1982. He gave me a clipping of one his prized plants, a Begonia I think, which I shared with many people over the years Of course he did the egg thing with me also. When I found out Sam played guitar and sang I invited him to my apartment in the Coach Barn at Shelburne Farms to join in a Jam Session. That was the beginning of a long and truly great friendship. Soar with the Angels my friend!
I haven’t thought about the equinox egg balancing for a long time. RIP to a real one.
I wish I had Sam’s talent to write an ode to this marvelous person. Although I first met Sam when he hired me to work at VHFA- although he was my bpss for years- it’s telling I don’t think of him in his office- he was so much more than s boss or coworker. I think of him playing music, sharing stories of his family whom he adores, dreaming up and executing mischief as well as kind acts, being creative and working hard to create affordable housing and make life better for many. I know my life was enhanced by knowing him. My heart goes out to jean and his family- thanks for sharing him. There are certainly many Sam stories being told and retold, and we know he’s rocking out with that great smile on his face.
I first met Sam while stationed at Westover Air Force Base outside of Springfield Mass. Upon discovering that we both played guitar, we rapidly became friends. With some other guys in the barracks, we put together the Bolivar Shagnasty Jug Band and performed at the bars and colleges in the Springfield area. Never made a dime but all of the laughs and good times were well worth it.
After leaving the Air Force, Sam settled down in Burlington, VT and we moved back to Philadelphia. We would meet Sam when he drove his beloved old Volvo to Cape May Point for his annual pilgrimage.
May you rest in peace, my friend. We miss you. Ciao!
Sam brought such spirit and friendliness to NERSC conferences. The world was a better place because of people like him. Sending condolences and prayers of comfort to all of his loved ones
An inspirational mentor Sam was, he taught all who met him to start living life with emotion.
This was so well written! I’m blessed to have known and worked with Sam. There was never a dull moment when Sam was around. His Ode’s, saving the manatees, intercom shenanigans, pipe cleaner animals and of course his egg balancing. I still have his Midlife Chrysler CD that he gave me when I left VHFA. You will be missed my friend, rest in peace.
I spent 10 years working with Sam at VHFA. One of the nicest guys you could hope to meet. Funny, talented and kind.
I didn’t know Sam was ill and I am very sad to hear of his passing. He had an uplifting spirit about him and was a welcomed presence in any space. Another free spirit done gone on. Goodbye, Sam!
Awesome risotto. Pipe cleaner creches. The search for purple guy. His love of Richard Thompson. Saving manatees. Balancing eggs with the seasons. These and many more, both serious and silly, are the little lights of happiness that his strong life force brought to us all. He will be missed.