Elliot Leonard (Photo courtesy Leonard-Litz LGBTQ+ Foundation)
Elliot Leonard, the visionary co-founder and founding trustee of the Leonard-Litz LGBTQ+ Foundation, died on June 6 in Easton, Conn., at his home with his husband, Roger Litz, by his side. He left a legacy of generosity and support for LGBTQ+ organizations across the Northeast and beyond, and is remembered as the heart and soul of a mission that sought to uplift people and empower the LGBTQ+ community. Leonard was 88.
“His memory lives on in every small town Pride festival, every weekly support group of a Pride center, every foundation and benefactor that is inspired to follow his example,” the Foundation said in a statement following Leonard’s passing. “His vision lives and breathes in every young person free to discover their identity and in every person of any age who has the freedom and support to continue living their truth.”
Perhaps owing to the loss of his parents at a young age, and having grown up in a time when being young and gay was fraught, Leonard held a special place in his heart for LGBTQ youth. He simply wanted their lives to be better.
“Elliot wanted to do good in the world, and with all the LGBTQ+ folks locally that he became friendly with, he noticed a thread that most of us grew up with and saw, especially those of us of a certain age, where we had to hide our identities,” said Judy Troilo, executive director and trustee of the Leonard-Litz LGBTQ+ Foundation.
“Then when we came out, we dealt with adverse reactions. Kids need to be able to grow up in this very, very dangerous world when you are other than the majority… He also felt strongly about seniors and knew that many were lonely. He was looking at his age, and was very grateful for his life and the fact that he had a partner of 57 years that he loved very much.”
Launched in early 2021, the Leonard-Litz Foundation has granted more than $6 million to about 150 nonprofit organizations since inception – serving the LGBTQ+ community through advocacy, programs, and services that range from youth summer camps to mental health outreach. The Washington Blade Foundation is among those beneficiaries and the Leonard-Litz Foundation has served as a key sponsor of the annual Pride on the Pier celebration that brings tens of thousands of queer Washingtonians together each June.
Leonard measured his success by how many people the Foundation could bring together and how many people they could help, Troilo says.
“And because of all the hostility, anti-LGBTQ legislation and the fight we’re having on so many different levels – from academia to the work environment to government – we’ve widened the help to folks in areas where people are most disenfranchised, especially the trans community.”
With more than 6,000 connections of care made last year alone, the Triangle Community Center, located in South Norwalk, is a welcoming space where LGBTQ+ people feel safe, seen, and supported. TCC provides resources that include peer-to-peer youth support, AA gatherings, housing navigation, laundry and shower facilities, a food pantry, a gender-affirming closet and so much more.
It was Leonard’s involvement with TCC after permanently settling in Connecticut that set the wheels of inspiration in motion for his own foundation. By no means his first foray into charitable giving, as a funder and board member of TCC, Leonard saw the effects of what could be done at the ground level.
“He and Roger saw a great need in the LGBTQ+ community: well-funded community centers dedicated to serving the community, supported by courageous and generous benefactors willing to bring people together. He knew that if someone led the charge, others would follow,” his Foundation said in its tribute.
“He had ideas on how to do good work through a foundation that could have a more immediate and direct impact, and saw that he could really use his voice to make an impact on the LGBTQ community,” recalls Rachel Simon, TCC’s executive director.
Among the countless ways their Foundation helped, Leonard and Litz made it possible for TCC to build out its footprint with a large gathering space. Thanks to that expansion, TCC is now able to host more than 30 events each month, Simon says, including workshops and community dinners where people cultivate friendships, share ideas and network around work and activism.
Leonard was particularly proud to see vision turn to brick and mortar, when the Foundation was able to give Bridgeport – the largest city in Connecticut, and one of the largest in New England – an LGBTQ+ hub of its own. The Bridgeport Pride Center offers comprehensive support services and resources, along with an array of programming and events.
“Growing up in Bridgeport, I never imagined I would one day see a Pride Center or the incredible Pride celebrations our city now has,” said Jason A. Coombs, co-founder and executive director of the Bridgeport Film Fest. “Elliot’s vision, leadership, generosity, and unwavering belief in this community helped make those dreams a reality. As a member of the Bridgeport Pride Center Board, I know firsthand that we would not have the Pride Center we have today without his dedication, generosity and advocacy.”
Leonard’s intense need to support the community took on urgency amid the widespread bans and restrictions unleashed upon our most marginalized in recent years. In June 2026, the Leonard-Litz Foundation provided $25,000 for The Safe Harbor Fund, which assists out-of-state patients seeking reproductive and gender-affirming care that is legal in Connecticut, but would otherwise be unavailable to them in their states of residence.
“Elliot Leonard worked to expand opportunity for all people and remove barriers to their dignity, success, and happiness,” Connecticut State Treasurer Erick Russell shared. “He will be deeply missed, but his vision and generosity will live on through the Leonard-Litz Foundation. We are honored that the Foundation made the inaugural contribution to Connecticut’s Safe Harbor Fund — one of the many ways Elliot’s legacy will continue to impact lives for years to come.”
If there is a resounding motif, it is this: “Elliot didn’t back organizations. Elliot backed people,” Danny Loftus George, president of The Norwalk Conservatory of the Arts, shared at a June 29 gathering of remembrance at TCC. “He believed in people, and he was one of the best judges of character — one of his many superpowers.”
“Elliot believed in me. He changed my life. He changed the Norwalk Conservatory, and because of his contributions at NoCo, he changed the lives of thousands of students, faculty, community, and more.”
Elliot Leonard was born in Brooklyn on March 7, 1938. Before most young people were even beginning to discover who they are, Leonard had already experienced profound loss, Jeff Arnold, board member of TCC, shared at the memorial gathering. “Those early years demanded courage long before anyone should have to find it,” he said. “And rather than allowing hardship to define him, Elliot allowed it to strengthen him.”
After earning a bachelor’s degree from Brooklyn College, and law degree from UCLA, Leonard built an extraordinary career. He practiced corporate and real estate law for 20 years, and, inspired by his clients, became a full-fledged entrepreneur. His portfolio of success included the development of residential and commercial properties in California, and he was a principal founding member of the largest roofing and solar subcontractor company in the state. As a result of his business leadership and advocacy, Leonard was invited to serve on many boards, including the Orange County LGBTQ Center.
“Success came through intelligence, persistence, and an unwavering belief that difficult circumstances never have the final word,” Jeff Arnold said.
But it was not these accomplishments that Leonard was most proud of, Arnold reflected. It was Roger. As Arnold tells it, the two first met in 1970 at a Los Angeles gay bar. Litz didn’t initially think Leonard was his type. But the buttoned-up Leonard was persistent, and upon learning what Litz wanted in a partner—”to be loved, cherished, and adored”— Leonard made it clear that this wouldn’t be difficult to do.
It was the beginning of a 57-year love story that took them from California through countless trips and adventures, ultimately landing in Easton, Conn., where they cultivated the extraordinary gardens they were famously known for, and surrounded themselves with opera and art. As Arnold shared, “perhaps most importantly, [they] lived openly and honestly as gay men during decades when doing so often required tremendous courage.”
Leonard delighted in the untamed beauty of nature, and in time spent with friends amid statues, starlings, and blue jays in his extraordinary botanical landscape. There, Danny Loftus George affectionately recalled, Leonard dared to plant banana trees, simply because he loved them, even while knowing their time was limited in a climate unsuited to their survival.
Leonard also took immense joy from his expansive collection of art that included works from around the world and across a spectrum of styles. “He would collect what he loved,” said Troilo, who admired how Leonard wouldn’t think twice about placing folk art by an unknown young artist next to a Keith Haring. “I think his art represented his diversity as a person, but also his vision of equality,” she said. “He was saying that you’re as important.”
Leonard is remembered for his loving tenacity in challenging others to push harder. “Elliot would lean in with that spark in his eyes and say, ‘What’s next?’” Foundation trustee Andrew Mitchell-Namdar shared. “He never let us get comfortable. He believed right down to his bones that we could always do more. He didn’t just believe it; he modeled it every single day with the same energy and hope he brought to everything he touched.”
As for the man who made Leonard light up whenever he walked into a room, his husband, Roger Litz, told the gathering of chosen family, “Almost anyone could sense that this is a man who got things done and was on the right side. He was on the right side of humanity, and that’s a lot.” Leonard didn’t care for grandiosity, Litz said. If you said something nice to his face, Leonard was likely to get embarrassed. What he wanted to leave people with was this:
“You’re only here for a while, so it’s not a matter of making the best of it. Make something of it.”
The National LGBT Media Association represents 13 legacy publications in major markets across the country with a collective readership of more than 400K in print and more than 1 million + online. Learn more here: NationalLGBTMediaAssociation.com.
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