I believe our friendship was based on mutual respect and caring about each other and our family.  When my husband was diagnosed with prostrate cancer, Les and Rita was there with lots of love and support.  When I lost my kid sister to colon cancer, Les and Rita were again pillars of support as I went through a terrible grieving process. 

To know Les was to love Les.  He never said no to anything that my clients needed, he was a joy to work with, and we shared many client-friends who always knew he would give their needs top priority which he always did.  Les was not the run-of-the-mill radio personality, he was a happy, kind, considerate co-worker and the utmost professional in his dealings with me and my clients. 

I believe one of the highlights of my life at KINK over the 15 years was my friendship with this wonderful man who gave of himself unselfishly.  Both Don and I loved Les and Rita …. his death was a deep loss to both of us.

~ Shelly Lurie

I had the pleasure of working with Les off and on (mostly on) for nearly 20 years. He was always already at the station when I arrived in the wee hours of the morning, drawing on newspapers, internet, TV, any source he could find, to put funny, interesting, or necessary information on the air, waking everybody up with his velvet voice. He did more good than you can imagine—always saying yes whenever anybody asked him to mention something on the air, or emcee their event.

It is impossible to estimate the impact he had on our community—as a radio DJ, event host, fundraiser for worthy causes, son, brother, husband, friend. From daily Morning Show adventures, running Hood-to-Coast, and reporting on poverty from the Dominican Republic, Les made it easy to be a partner in any experience. He could always find the silver lining, see a way to get over the hurdle, or think up a compromise in a tricky situation.

If each of us can keep a nugget of that “Les attitude,” we can continue his influence in the world around Portland. He’s not really gone when we keep his spirit alive.

Rita, you are in my heart.

~ Rebecca

God Bless Les’ presence in my life, small though it was – it was huge! He woke me up for over 15 years and no other man but my husband can ever get that honor. Radio hasn’t been the same since we lost him from the morning show. Yet more than that, his influence with his activities, music, animals, charitable opportunities – what an example! I met him at different events several times and it was always fun. He brought a great deal of joy! I will so miss him, his cheerful outlook, and his practical and loving opinions on current events. How special to learn of his Christian beliefs -it isn’t entirely sad anymore.

~ Patty Richardson
Gresham, OR

One more thing my husband had a bout with cancer and I’m still afraid for his health. Les’ blog has been extremely encouraging.
Thank you.

My husband and I grew up in Portland in the 50’s and 60’s and we both loved music from day one. Rock n Roll, good Rock n Roll was our favorite. In 1968 KINK radio came to be and it immediately struck a chord with both of us. Les was the kind of DJ that just drew you in. Velvety voice yes – but more than that he had a wonderful way with words, messages, passion for music, passion for life. We’ve listened to Les all these years and he made the radio a little more magical for us – he was a beautiful person and he made such an impact on us! We will miss him!

~ Marla and Dale Miller

Suddenly, a nurse pulled the curtain back and curtly scolded us, “You’re not supposed to be in here!” When she left, Les just smiled and said it was fine that we were there. It was ten wonderful minutes spent with him that we will always cherish. This upbeat man was so ready to tackle the cells that were attacking him. After surgery, he said he felt ten years younger.

When I think of Les, I think of a happy soul who blessed the lives of all who knew him personally. His listeners felt like they knew him. With Les, what you “hear” is what you get! He embraced life, every last minute of it, good or bad. He inspired us all with his love for music. He helped the less fortunate, and had a special love for animals. He hated bigotry and wouldn’t stand for it. What I love most about Les is his candidness in his memoir, “Miracle Moments.” He didn’t try to portray himself as a happy man with a perfect life. He shared with his readers a beautiful portrayal of meaningful events in his life; his hopes and dreams, disappointments, fears and struggles. It made me laugh and cry. Les will remain in my heart forever.

I will leave you with this memory I have where Les was recorded on my wedding video. When Les was asked what he liked most about the wedding, he hung his head and looked as though he were going to cry. He responded, “The program.” As he sniffed back tears and clutched the program, he continued, “The font was just breathtaking.” Who, but Les, would be able to leave us laughing over such a simple response.

Thank you for the joy you brought to all of our lives. May you soar with the eagles, dear Les!

Mary Myers-Hall

The memories and stories I believe he would want all to know, are the mischievous and joyful ones. The reflections that made him happy, for that is what he strived to be: happy.
There are unlimited stories of happiness and hilarious insanity, while growing up in the Sarnoff household. The experiences that molded and contributed to who he ended up being. A work of art.

Here is a tender one of mine:

I was a tomboy. I had no choice. I grew up in the shadows of two older brothers and if I wanted to be the annoying baby sister that I needed to be, I had to become just that. Les was a leader. It started quite young actually, because he was the one with all of the ideas.

Whether good or bad…he had them! He was in constant motion both physically and mentally. It was his blueprint. He wasn’t shunned by others…we all looked to him for the who, what, when, where, and he would figure out the “why” when we got caught.

He was our Einstein. He didn’t raise the bar…he never saw it. I thought he was brilliant.

Our family spent several years in Ann Arbor, Michigan. It was there that we spent our time as children walking through fields to school, climbing trees and being kids in a neighborhood filled with many. It was safe to be out until the streetlights came on, and then there was the mad dash to get home before you heard your parents call. I followed my brothers everywhere. This one story is engraved in my mind and I shared the memory of it with Les last year.

It was a summer day that I recall, and I was looking all over for he and Gary, as an annoying sister would do. I saw that Les and his buddies were playing ball in a churchyard, not far from our home. Oh my gosh, I ran as hard as I could to go home and get my mitt. The pink one that my dad had bought me, so that I too, could be part of their game. I was 6 years old, Gary 10, Les 13. I came running through a field and was so excited to play.

However, upon my arrival, all I heard were the protests from all of Les’s friends, and them yelling that I couldn’t play because I was a girl, too young and the “Come on Les…get her out of here” banter. I could not have felt more saddened. I ran towards home, crying so hard I couldn’t hear someone yelling for me to stop running. Les finally caught up to me and asked me to come back and he would let me play. I would not! No way, I was too upset and they were too mean. I hate boys!

So… as we walked back to the field, big brothers arm around my shoulder… he announced, as if he were George Steinbrenner… “She’s playing”!

I sat on the bench, as patiently as I could, with my pink mitt in hand, and waited my turn. Every once in a while, Les would look over at me, as if to wish I had left from boredom but at the same time deciding what to do with this situation, so everyone was happy. (Did he ever stop trying to please everyone?)

Final inning, I got to bat. I made contact with the ball! I ran my heart out towards first base and could hear him say, with a soft voice and oh so intentionally, “Let her run it” and unbelievable to me, I made it to first base! They weren’t even close to throwing me out I thought to myself, knowing full well he was scripting the event. I think I made it to second but irrelevant to the memory. I ended up in the outfield, centerfield for the final 3 outs. Les in the right field came over to tell me “You know they are going to hit it to you because they think you will drop it. Just let me catch it, I will be there”. Pow! I look up… running and squealing, “I got it I got it”, and there is Les in front of me catching the ball I thought was mine. Kicking the dirt in a 6 year olds’ disgust, I positioned myself for hit #2 and sure enough, the second ball grounds right to me and scooping it up, he was right there making sure his friends didn’t hate him for letting me play. Third ball a fly. I am screaming, “I have it, I have it Les!” I hear Les yelling this time from afar, “Keep your eyes on it Linnie, keep your eyes on it”! I heard the smack when it hit my pink leather mitt and when I opened my eyes, I saw it there. I couldn’t believe it! Les walked over to me and not one word, not one word! Just this incredible look of “How did that feel?” and “It’s a damn good thing you caught it!”, look. Gary rushed over in disbelief but the look on Les’s face, with no words exchanged… I will never forget it. He handed me my chance to proclaim my contribution to the sport of baseball with those that seeped testosterone. He made me feel “it”. It was a proud moment for both of us. He was always there for me. He was always right there! Never shared his ice cream but was always there.

We, as a family, never missed a performance he was in, when he acted in college. My parents couldn’t have been prouder. They would pack up on a Saturday and off to Moorhead, no matter how cold and insane the weather, we would go. I was in awe of his ability to creatively transform into character. He told Zach his favorite character to play was Captain Hook. Mine to watch was Fagin, from Oliver. He was this mischievous man that led kids astray, all while fostering this on the edge lifestyle. Actually, he played himself with makeup and costume.

He taught me that there are things in life that you just have to do, whether you want to or not. You just do it and your done. He taught me to scale everything on a 1-10 margin and take a moment to assess how that “thing” would have an effect on me, a week from that time, and place it in perspective. He despised conflict and argument, and was the most “peaceful wishing” soul, a sister could have. He was a true friend and an unconventional influence as an uncle…(which he felt was his job). Who best to fill those shoes?

I feel him laughing sometimes. I really do. I feel his energy making light of a situation I am in. I catch myself smiling at that moment and my self-inflicted stress miraculously vanishes. I am so grateful he had those special times to thank my mom and dad for being watchful over him and giving him just so much slack, for he would state he didn’t know where he would have ended up had they given up. Love hurts sometimes and hopefully we grow up and embrace the journey. He did. I loved him more than the moon loves the stars and told him often…not just when he was ill, but always. We always shared our good fortune of being related and embraced the relationship we had. So many lessons he gave me, I pray that he took some of mine.

He told me that when he dies he wants to come back as one of his dogs. What a grand life they all had and still do through the lens of Rita’s care.

Thank you for allowing me to share.
Lynne (little sister)

Did I mention the time he snuck his friends through the basement window to host a party while my parents were … or when he drove my dad’s car onto an almost frozen lake and blew the axels … or when we went to a junkyard and found an old ringer washer that he adapted as a planter on his front lawn or…

I got to talk to Les a few times over the winter, and though he was obviously not feeling well at the time it was cool, and inspiring, to see how much twinkle he could bring to even the most gloomy circumstances. A dark winter afternoon; a couple of hours of chemotherapy; being described as “terminal.” He shrugged it all off and looked for the glimmer of light. And usually found it, too.

The last time we spoke was so typical. I’d been trying to reach him for a week or two, leaving messages and voicemails, hoping to track down a couple more details for the story I was writing about him. Les wasn’t always the most reliable returner-of-calls (as his outgoing message made clear), but I knew he was deeper into full-blown chemotherapy, and things had gotten, as he put it, “pretty funky.” No matter, early one evening the phone rang.

“I just wanted you to know that I DO return calls every so often,” he said, by way of hello. No introduction necessary, though. No one else has Les’s voice. He knew that. So we chatted about this and that, mostly about dinner. He was about to have his, and I was headed upstairs to fix something for my family.

“What are you gonna make?” he wanted to know. “Stir fry? Great. I’ll be there in 15 minutes, okay?”

He was kidding. He wasn’t getting out much at all by then. His energy was pretty sketchy, he admitted. He slept a lot, had a hard time getting going in the morning. A strange feeling for the city’s longest-lasting morning disc jockey. But that still left the whole afternoon and evening, didn’t it?

“Last night I was rarin’ to go,” he said. “I was up til 11 o’clock, having a ball.”

Then dinner was ready, time to say goodbye. “We’ll talk again,” he said. We didn’t, but that voice sticks with me: the sound of a man still rarin’ to go, still having a ball.

I used to go on the air following Les and Rebecca and whenever it snowed they would try to surprise each other at the end of the newscast with a snowball. But each one knew it was coming (and so did the listeners!) I remember nearly driving off the road, I was laughing so hard as I was on my way to work! It was hysterical ! When I got to the studio Les would be frantically trying to clean up all the water from the melted snowballs. He knew how I hated messes, and he was apologizing and wiping up water!

I remember the many events Les emceed. I was inspired by his ease in front of big crowds because I had such terrible stage fright. Every year he emceed an annual benefit for children with cancer. One year he couldn’t make it due to a schedule conflict and he asked me to take his place. I filled in for him, but I remember feeling like I couldn’t possibly come close to his extraordinary stage presence. I asked him ahead of time if he had any advice and if he ever had fright underneath his calm demeanor in front of an audience. He said, “Oh, sure, but it goes away as soon as you start speaking and looking at all the people – they are happy to see you and want you to do well.” That helped me overcome my stage fright. I remember watching him get up in front of kids at a show at the Children’s Fair. He began by shouting, “We’re all gonna have a hootenanny!” The kids went crazy… he made everything so much fun!

It was an event called “Henry’s Handcar Derby,” sponsored by Henry Weinhard’s Beer, from a bygone era when there was a Blitz Weinhard Brewery downtown Portland. Les Sarnoff and I arrived to do our duties as co-emcees for the event. From where we were perched, high above the curb, you could look down on 100’s of “yuppies,” all wearing those large khaki shorts. From our vantage point, you could see up everyone’s shorts! I honestly tried to ignore it, but it became too much and everything I said digressed into the gutter of juvenile innuendo. Les was a perfect gentleman and tried to ignore my juvenile comments, but eventually began to chuckle at my inside jokes, unknown to anyone else.

FYI… this is what he replied to me in an email in January when I heard about his struggle and I emailed him words of encouragement:

“Please excuse the lateness of replying to your message but it’s been a bit overwhelming. I truly appreciate your thoughts, prayers and cherish them all and look forward to when I’m back on the air, sharing them all with you. There is so much kindness and love in this world, and you are an example of what a difference one person can make in another person’s life. Especially coming from a friend like you, Cindy, who I’ve admired over all these years. Much appreciated, Les.”

Cindy Hanson