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September 22, 1974

Eulogy for Isidore Strick (1974)

Eulogies & Memorials
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Isi - our Isi - is gone, and our friendship of about 47 years has come to an end. During these decades, we and our family have become dear and precious friends. Molly and Isi and my wife and I were together at The Jewish Center’s Young Marrieds when indeed, we were “young marrieds.” Our children were classmates in Manhattan Day School and in “Central,” Yeshiva University’s High School for Girls. Throughout the course of our friendship I never had reason to question his loyalty or to criticize him. He was pleasant and kind and warm beyond words, and I always considered it a זכות to know him and consider him a friend.Isi was born in Antwerp to a warm and compassionate family. His sister Elsa Weinman, long a leader in The Jewish Center, and his brother^ were prepared by their parents to be responsible members of the community. His father was a loyal member of the Center and “davened” there regularly. His mother was especially sharp, bright, innovative. It was she who saved her family from the Nazi onslaught by insisting that they had to emigrate, to get out of harm’s way in Europe. At her urging, they left Antwerp on the last ship out of that Hell, on the Quanza - a ship of 80 passengers who were turned away by Portugal and Cuba. When they came to these shores, they were rebuffed by Virginia. Through the help of Maritime attorney Morowitz, who obtained the intervention of Eleanor Roosevelt, they granted safety and celebrated Isi’s Bar Mitzvah at The Jewish Center.Isi’s was an engaging personality; widely popular, he had many good friends. He had a remarkable talent: he loved whatever it was he was doing, whether it was successful or not, whether he was winning or losing. He was a happy man who welcomed a challenge, who was invariably optimistic and, no matter what the provocation, almost never complained.Isi was a Zionist to the core of his being. He loved Israel - delighted at the chance to visit, and sad at the thought of leaving it. He was a most respectful son who…
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Eulogy for Ivan Tillem (1989)

Ivan's death on a mission of mercy, a shelihut shel mitzvah, leaves us bereaved, aghast, perplexed, and victimized by unanswerable guestions about fate and destiny and fairness and justice. There are no whole sentences followed by periods in contemplating Ivan's untimely end. There are only guestion marks and exclamation points swirling about each other in head­splitting and heart-breaking confusion.I loved Ivan. Although he was never formally enrolled as a student in my classes, he considered me a teacher. Our relationship consisted of a resonance of similar ideas and perceptions, a sympathy of goals, a convergence of directions. He solicited my advice occasionally, and listened very carefully. His attentiveness placed upon me an additional burden of responsibility for whatever counsel I offered.I loved him not only because of his goodness and his sweetness, his generosity and his gentleness, but primarily because he was a rare case of arrested development: he was a young adult, in his mid-thirties, successful, ambitious--a time of life when most of us have outgrown our idealistic phase of adolescence and early post-adolescence. At a stage of their development when almost all others have stopped writing poetry, have lost romantic notions, have felt their ideals evaporate andtheir principles vacillate--Ivan was still in his idealistic phase and showed every sign of remaining there forever. The so- called "real world," which he had manipulated brilliantly to rise meteorically from abject poverty to financial success, was not at all the ultimate reality for Ivan Tillem. Ideals were real to him, not money. Mitzvot and good deeds counted, not dollars and status. Loyalty and love and faith were the bedrocks of his life, and all else merely a means of strengthening them. He made a fortune and gave away a fortune, while he continued to live in a modest apartment and drove an old car and did without an ornate office. He regarded lavishness and ostentation and status­seekin…
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In the words of Job (3:25): "The one thing which I did fear is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of hath overtaken me." All of us knew that sooner or later this would happen. Yet, the anticipation is no consolation, the pain is no less sharp, the bereavement no less grievous. On the contrary, we all feel devastated. The Talmud taught that if one of a group dies, the other members of the group worry. Indeed, if such is the lot of one so strong, so vital, so superior, how secure can the rest of us be? We know now that we live our lives on the thin rim of the deep abyss, suspended by gossamer threads of unknown durability.Our first reaction to the death of Zev Frank — or, as he was known to us in our youth, as Willy -- was: what a waste! What great achievements could have been his in the world of mathematics and science, what glory he could have shed upon our people! And indeed it is a tragic waste. Yet, let us by no means overstate it. For although Willy passed away young, at the age of 46, he used his few years creatively, constructively, and productively -- in his research, in the enlightenment he brought to others, in the joy he spread around him, and above all in the beautiful family he leaves behind.This day, the day that Willy Frank expired and returned his soul to his Maker, is the last day of the Hebrew month of Tevet. Tomorrow is the first day of a new month -- Rosh Hodesh Shevat. The first day of Shevat is mentioned once in the Torah. In the beginning of Deuteronomy, we learn that Moses had already finished giving the Torah and he now begins to repeat and to review it. "... In the eleventh month, on the first day of the month (i.e., Rosh Hodesh Shevat)... Moses began to expound this Torah" (Deut. 1:3,5). First he gave the Torah, and then he commenced its elaboration -- the Mishneh Torah.The living Torah of Willy is done. Now we shall begin the Mishneh Torah ofhis life. Now we shall not only not forget him, Heaven forbid, but we shall begin to review…
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