On April 3, 2026, Theodore Jochsberger, 86, headed off to his next adventure.
Ted was born in the Yorkville neighborhood of Manhattan while Franklin Roosevelt was still president. At that time, the German-American Bund was on the rise there, so as a child, he experienced anti-Semitism firsthand. His mother had emigrated from Hungary, one of 10 children, and his father, an only child, was a first-generation American with roots in Munich. He had one brother, Stephen, who predeceased him, and two daughters, Amy Rochelle and Linda Jane, who died four years ago.
Ted was a first-generation college student, graduating from Hunter College in the Bronx (now Lehman College) where he majored in chemistry. His high school also changed names after he graduated, and he used to kid that he was such a bad student that his high school and college had to change names after awarding him a degree.
Nonetheless he persevered in academics, either because he enjoyed learning, or as he would tell it, because he wanted to delay entering the job market for a little longer. Whatever the reason, Ted was admitted to the graduate chemistry program at City University of New York, where he earned a master’s and a Ph.D. before taking a job teaching pharmacy students at the Brooklyn College of Pharmacy, which eventually merged with Long Island University. While still a young professor, he stepped back into the classroom once again and sat beside his students as he worked to earn a bachelor’s degree in pharmacy, then went on to take shifts in local pharmacies so he better understood the practice.
He was an exceptionally bright person, which was obvious to everyone but him. He often regaled listeners with stories about how he struggled to gain passing grades and fulfill the requirements of his degrees. While that may seem unbelievable to those who knew him, it made sense when you consider that what might seem to be a straightforward question to most people would result in him thinking not about a straightforward answer but about the nature of the question. He so often seemed to be thinking well beyond the superficial level.
His struggles in school benefited his students in the classroom, and the school, as a whole, during his stint as associate dean. He would say that he understood the potential of students whose GPAs might not be stellar but whose aptitude and work ethics suggested they just needed some extra time and attention.
He was incredibly funny, humble, and above all, caring. As a college professor, his students weren’t just part of the job, they became part of his ever-extending family. In his more than 40 years of teaching, he touched so many lives, and whenever he ventured into a pharmacy anywhere in the tristate area, he would head straight to the back to see if there was anyone he knew behind the counter. There usually was, and then it was old home week.
When he retired in 2010, he and his wife, Deborah Wells moved to West Tisbury, their happy place. Right away he decided he needed to find a way to contribute, getting involved first with the local road association, and then serving on a few town committees. However, his favorite volunteer effort by far was the time he spent helping out in the parking lot during the Ag Fair.
Ted was the kind of person who never seemed to doubt that he had a boundless supply of love to share. From the start it was apparent to Deborah that she would be sharing him with the broader community. He routinely checked in with family, friends, and current and past colleagues and students. For Ted, friendships were lifelong.
He loved his pets, and shared stories, heartwarming and heartbreaking, about the cats and dogs he had in the past who still held a place in his heart. But above all of that, he was a devoted father, and somehow survived the soul-crushing loss of his younger daughter Linda Jane, who was grievously injured as a young teenager in an accident, and remained in a coma for 35 years before her death. While that understandably broke him, he forced himself to rally and be present for his older daughter, Amy. No father could have loved a child more than Ted loved Amy, and he never missed an opportunity to show her that in word and deed. Ironically, in the end, it was that tender heart that failed him.
While Ted had many amazing talents, there were also things he just wasn’t good at. He loved their home in West Tisbury, but quite rightly said on numerous occasions that any maintenance or repairs should be left to those who knew what they were doing. He could describe in vivid detail countless Yankees and Giants games present and long past — yes, he tried to keep that under wraps in his new home, but he remained a true New York fan! — but he could identify only a very few of the most common species of flora and fauna, and often suggested that we should affix nametags to the plants in the yard to help out with that.
Another area in which he failed to excel was demonstrated by his underwhelming musical talents. Ted was nearly tone-deaf. However, despite that, he absolutely loved to sing. He would walk down the road near his home and lift his voice to the heavens. Years ago, to the horror of his mother-in-law, he sat on the hillside outside their house overlooking the White Mountains in Vermont, and belted out his ever-changing versions of song after song. There were no neighbors to hear, but for him, singing was the joy. One of his favorites was the “Battle Hymn of the Republic.” He sang it so very many times, all verses, and loved the history behind it. He used to say that the song reminded him that there have been hard times before, and if our ancestors could survive those times, then perhaps so could we. He is survived by the many family and friends who loved him dearly, and will remain ever grateful to have known him. To honor his legacy, a scholarship has been established in his name at the M.V. Community Foundation. That organization can process any size donation, and nothing would honor him more than to have this scholarship reach the level for endowment through thousands of small contributions. To make a tax-deductible donation by mail, please send a check to: M.V. Community Foundation, P.O. Box 243, West Tisbury, MA 02575. Make the check payable to “MV Community Foundation” and write “Theodore Jochsberger” in the memo. Or contribute online at marthasvineyardcf.org; click “donate,” then search for “Theodore Jochsberger.” For information, call 508-338-4665
A celebration of his life is planned for the fall.