On the recordMay 12, 1994
I rise today to recognize the passing of a most decent and beloved Washingtonian, Elizabeth Cleland Acosta. In the May 10, 1994 edition of the Washington Post, my friend Mary McGrory wrote a kind memorial to this uncommon woman. Heaven Just Got Livelier My best friend, Elizabeth Cleland Acosta, who died on Saturday, was probably the worst enemy ennui ever had. She did not know how to be boring. She fought boredom wherever she found it. She was party insurance. When she arrived at your house, you could put her in the parlor and go off on other business, knowing your guests would be entirely diverted. She did monologues about life as a suburban housewife and made hilarity from such unpromising subjects as beach vacations or the hopelessness of finding happiness on New Year's Eve: "I've gone to other people's parties, too, including parties . . . where the host and hostess decided to get a divorce; parties where someone's secretary threw a Christmas tree through the window." Sometimes she told stories about her father, a labor man from Chicago with a robust sense of humor. And she sang. Oh, how she sang in her forty-fathoms deep contralto.…
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