Following are some of the tributes to my dad that I have received, starting with the most recent.  Although I have not posted the shorter ones, every one moved me deeply.  Thanks to everyone who wrote or phoned.  If you have not yet posted a remembrance, or would like to add to one I've quoted below, please post it by clicking at the bottom of the page where it says "[no] comments. "  Or email it to tomcollins@mbtb.com.

Thanks to everyone who enriched my dad's life with their friendship -- Jill

From Michael Krasik:

I was introduced to Tom many years ago when he moved to Portland. Jill and Ron told me I should meet and talk with him-- we might have some common interests. My first talk with Tom was at a party a long time ago. As it turned out he was not just the elderly father of a friend to whom I would visit with and be polite for a few minutes--- no, it did not go that way. We met, and minutes later we had business to conduct. My small mail-order business was a natural for an interaction with Tom, who was a legendary guru of mail order marketing. He kindly critiqued my company's then-current advertising and came up with a much improved print ad and several other good contributions.

Our business did not end there. Tom, like me, could be considered a crazy inventor. We bantered about some silly and some real inventions and all kinds of goofy and novel marketing strategies and ad campaigns. Our interaction was playful but very meaningful and informed by decades of Tom's experience and expertise in his field.

I also enjoyed Tom's cynical humor-- it was a good match with mine.  While we would come up with ideas to make millions (mostly silly, some legitimate), Tom always demonstrated a very strong social conscience which served as good balance for his robust embrace of capitalism.

Finally, supplements. Tom was a dietary and nutritional supplement nut. I am a fellow nut. Two nuts, like we, can spend a lot of nutty time talking supplements. I would point to very familiar bottles in his collection-- every bottle is a story; and those stories were told. We both knew that this was a hobby with a benefit-- at least you will live forever.

I will miss my friend, Tom.

From Bill Green:

I first came to know Tom when I was a kid. He and Isabel had recently come to NY from Oklahoma and were new friends of my mother (who had made Isabel's acquaintance at work in the correspondence dept. at Sears). They came to dinner one night. That meeting developed into a lifelong friendship that eventually included my wife, Lindsay.

What an impressive couple Tom and Isabel were! Fresh from Oklahoma, with accents I had not heard except in movies and, to my young eye, true "bohemians": Tom, was a writer, living with his wife in a cold water basement flat near The Bowery. What could be more romantic? If I recall correctly, Candida was born in that Bowery flat.

Tom had recently been published; a front page review of the novel TUCKER'S PEOPLE, by Ira Wolfert. Wolfert had been impressed by a thesis Tom had written on Thomas Wolfe and had urged THE TIMES to give him an assignment.

Shortly thereafter Tom, happily employed by the Schwab and Beatty ad agency, moved his family from the Bowery up to Tudor City in midtown Manhattan, and continued moving, as he continued moving up--to Long Island, and then back to Manhattan into a town house of his own in the East 30s.

Through all this , Tom was a mentor to me, encouraging me in my writing, helping me with his wit and with his boundless creative energy.

I recall one dinner with him in later years, one of many such dinners (he was also an inventive cook) when particularly pleased with one of my published novels, he urged me to write a sequel. I saw no way to advance that story or to further develop those characters. He did, and between the main course and coffee came up with three workable ideas.

Has anyone mentioned his sojourn in the theater?

At one point, in addition to everything else, Tom became interested in play production. So he took a course in the subject, and, shortly thereafter produced an Off Broadway Play.

He never ran out of energy or ideas. He was always a delight to be with, and an inspiration.

We've missed him since his move to Portland and will remember him always.

From Ron Hinckley:

They say you become more like yourself as you get older, and that was certainly true of Tom.  At dinner each night he would give us The Collins Report (with a silent "t" as in "Colbert"), distilling the day's political news into the items of importance to him.  He would share his favorite stories or headlines from The New York Times or The Wall Street Journal -- or catch their occasional grammatical or stylistic errors -- each morning as he carefully plowed his way through them, never resisting a quick verbal makeover of a misguided ad or two along the way.  He was always wondering what or why or how it worked, and he never stopped producing his "million dollar ideas," or pithy bumper strip slogans.  His dry wit often made me laugh out loud, and didn't dessert him even at the end.  It was a pleasure and an honor to share my home with him these last few years.

From Jill Hughes:

Tom was a close personal friend from the time I "inherited him" at his brother Bob's funeral in 1991. At that time, I can remember him telling me he was going to become a theatrical producer and I joined him on some of his ventures to check out talent. We shared a love of psychology, photography, film and theater and we made regular jaunts up and down the northeast corridor to visit each other for many years before he moved west. Despite a 46 year age difference, It was easy for us to keep company and I always enjoyed the stories he told of his marriage to Isabel and coming to NYC, raising three little girls, his marketing career, political adventures, the farm upstate, and the beach home on Fire Island. One of my fondest memories include him catching a plane to spend the weekend with me during a colossal DC snowstorm; we painted my dining room and watched Henry Jaglom films. Years later, when I had a family, he joined us on a couple of beach trips to the Outer Banks, NC. Even though he had not driven a car for several years, on one of those trips he rented a car from Newport News. Following a print-out from Mapquest, it took him seven hours to reach our home in Corolla, when it should have taken him only two! I was indeed worried, but he arrived safe and sound and received only one ticket, a speeding ticket just five miles south of the house. He fought the ticket and won, I think!

Tom was an angel to me. He believed in me in a way I had never experienced before, and lended his ear and support generously, and for this I am incredibly blessed to have had him in my life. He was eternally positive, and exhibited little grief when speaking of his losses, but when we saw "Little Women" on Broadway, he uncharacteristically broke down crying in response to a poignant scene when Jo's sister dies. I was honored to hold him and share that moment with him. It reminded him of his daughter Candida's premature death, and I hope in some fashion he is reunited with her and Isabel now.

From Tom Rollins:

It had to happen, but it still broke my heart.

I am so glad that I got back in touch with your dad a few weeks ago. He seemed concerned about his legacy, how he'd be remembered, and whether his ideas had been claimed by others. I understood his concerns, but I thought his memory was secure and told him so. He is personally responsible for the 1:1 marketing revolution...[and] the ideas are in hard copy for all to see.

Tom was the first and primary marketing advisor to The Teaching Company (now called "The Great Courses"), created the marketing program that propelled the Company in its early years, and counseled the Company for more than a decade. The Company has now sold more than ten million courses.

One time, early on, your Dad crafted magazine advertising campaign for us with roughly 20 magazines we would test to see if they were receptive to us. In his Manhattan apartment, I asked if we should hire someone to do a study on the best candidates for us to test. Tom replied: "It's like trying to decide which are the tallest buildings in Manhattan. We could hire someone to do a study, or we could just look out the window." I've used that advice in a dozen contexts ever since.

I'll look out the window and remember your dad ; I never see Manhattan without thinking of him.

From Joe Favale:

Your Dad was a major part of a number of important times in my life. I don’t know if you’re aware that Roberta and I met while working at Rapp & Collins... We both lived in the same apartment house in Manhattan for a while and we were part of an ongoing group that would meet every 6 weeks to talk, laugh, and share important parts of our lives. It was a special support group that helped me through some difficult times. We had a mutual appreciation for each other’s sense of humor. If someone were to ask who Tom Collins was to me I would say he was:

My boss
My therapist
My neighbor
My support
My friend

Although we didn’t see each other that much the last number of years I will still miss him very much. One of the last emails I received from him was typical of the kind of fun stuff we shared through the years. He said he was having trouble sleeping so he spent the night making a list of songs with girls names in them. (I was a a singer/songwriter for many years.) I responded by telling him I bet I could come up with more songs than he had, and so I did. This continued back and forth for a while until I’m sure we’d listed every song ever written with girls names in them.

From Roberta Estar:

...[Tom was] part of a peer group, and he became such a trusted 'elder' - even as we were all aging, too - who could be fun, serious, rebellious if anyone wanted to tell him what they thought HE should do, but always willing to talk things out - but not necessarily agree! I know I learned a lot about life and love and relationships just by being in his presence. And he also kept working on himself, wondering if he was truly lovable, or a really loving person. He came to see himself as both, and I am the richer for having known him, and now sadder that that connection isn't there, though he is one of the few who have a very special place in my heart.

Your dad continued to be encouraging to me after he moved to Oregon, and our emails, when we
both found the time for that, were inspiring, encouraging still, sometimes newsy, and always very supportive of all my ideas - particularly as a man who had a lot of his own creative ideas. I still haven't written that book I kept saying I would, but I have all his precious words of encouragement and even possible titles for my work.

When I picture him now, I see his smile, a tilt of his head and thoughtfulness, sometimes just a 'well …..' or a story about so-and-so, or something funny about an episode of Seinfeld - or some other program he loved - he was usually so upbeat, positive, forward thinking, and politically encouraging to keep the faith and do whatever we could to help the cause (of democracy and fairness). And of course, we could also commiserate with all that wasn't going well politically.

There are often mixed feelings towards people, as we are all so complex, but I can't say that about your dad - to me, Tom was a source of life, real life, a touch stone of humanity, and in just his way - not perfect by any means, but still, one of the really good good good guys around! I'm sure he'd love to know that.

From Irene Ferber:

Your father always impressed me with his joie de vive and based on what you wrote about your last conversations it sounds as if he kept his mental clarity to the end – which is a gift...In spite of all of the ups and downs in his life he radiated a positive and optimistic view of life that was always nice to be around.

From Bruce Janklow:

Over the last 30+ years I sat in many group meeting with Tom in various configurations. I never, ever ceased to be amazed at his love of life, his sense of humor and the ridiculous, as well as his never ending supply of schemes some of which he actually pulled off. He and I also tussled from time to time in a loving and caring way...

While I'm sorry that it is over, in my mind Tom had a great run and I would guess that he died without any regrets - - quite an accomplishment and something I aspire to.

From Nancy Smith:

Tom touched my life in a wonderful and big way too. My heart sank to hear that he is no longer with us. I am so grateful that he lent a hand to me when I was working for a start-up FOLIOfn and needed a pro to tell the story of what we were trying to accomplish. He was so generous of his time and ideas, and the twinkle in his eye, his laugh, and smile, are clear in my mind's eye right now. I still have the wonderful jewelry box that he gave Jeff and me as a wedding present so many years ago, and I see it everyday.
He was incomparable in so many ways. He taught me a lot about how to reach people and connect. I feel the passing of a great man with a great heart.

From Morris Dees:

Tom was one of the most inspiring, passionate and thoughtful people that I had the honor of working with and knowing.
I can hear Tom now in a product marketing meeting: "At last you can learn from America's greatest chefs. Your friends will marvel at yourexciting meals not knowing that your secrets came from membership in The
Great Gourmet Cooking School."

Tom's Readable Writing column in the Direct Marketing Magazine endeared him to thousands of struggling young ad writers. He took the most mundane boring letters or direct response ads and turned them into marketing magic. Tom wrote so many great ads for my publishing company that I considered him
a member of our team.

When George McGovern asked me to help him raise money for his 1972 campaign, I asked Tom if he would assist. I had no idea that he had been a Gene McCarthy delegate in 1968. I also had no idea that he had any political interest. Tom almost leaped through the phone accepting my request. I was in New York on the next plane. (There was no email.)...

I spent many nights at Tom's and Isabel's home talking politics, eating his omelets and drinking good wine.

Long after the campaign Tom came to the Southern Poverty Law Center at his own expense to help us develop direct mail packages. He never sent a bill.

He wrote us one of the best planned giving letters any nonprofit every used. I can hear him now speaking the letter he wrote in such a compelling voice that I choked up: "Many years ago, I read an old and deeply affecting
short story. It was about a man who died and how, within a year, all traces of his ever being on earth disappeared. None of us want that for ourselves. We all want to feel that our presence will be felt and our influence will continue after we are gone."

Tom's wonderful deeds, the love he had for those with few champions and the good he did will not disappear. Long live my dear friend.

From Judy Pickett:

He was a really neat fella, and I will miss him. And I love that he was joking right up to the end. What a guy! I am so glad that I had the time with him here on the farm when you two were away. He had such a full, interesting life, and I enjoyed his stories. We laughed a lot. I will always remember him with love and humor.

From Richard Cross:

Tom was my mentor whose advice on writing I follow almost every day. In fact, I pass it along whenever possible. I suppose in that way his intellect and inspiration continue on.

He was a gentleman with high ideas and ideals worthy of the wide respect. And, of course, he was a valued friend always ready with wise and supportive advice and counsel. Not to mention a masterful story teller.

And more.

From Jeffrey Smith:

I'm heartsick to learn of Tom's passing. He was not only a hero to me but a very important mentor and helped shape my life.

From Steve Davis [written when he first heard of Tom's prognosis, it was a tribute that had the special benefit of making the recipient smile]:

Classy, interesting, thoughtful, funny, creative, curious. I wish there was a Tom pill.