Martin Citron

I had the privilege of working alongside Marty for nearly 15 years, and in all that time, I never met anyone quite like him. He won’t be replaced — some people simply aren’t.

Marty was a brilliant engineer and a rare kind of communicator, the sort of person who could make complexity feel clear and make you feel smarter just for talking to him. But that’s not what made him extraordinary. What made Marty unique was how much of himself he gave, without ever expecting anything back.

In Jewish tradition there’s a word for this: Tzedakah. It’s often translated simply as “charity,” but it means something deeper — an obligation to give, yes, but to give with kindness, with respect, and above all, with sensitivity to the dignity of the person receiving it. That was Marty. He didn’t just help people; he helped them in a way that let them keep their pride intact. It’s a rare gift, and he had it in abundance.

I will miss him horribly. But I’ll carry what he taught me — not just about engineering, but about how to move through the world — for the rest of my career, and my life.

Rest well, Marty. There will never be another like you.