Over a decade has passed since he was with us, a decade in which much has happened and in which the face of the world has been changed. During this lapse of time we have had the opportunity to view his life and death from a broader perspective, to submerge the minor details of his biography into the penumbra of our memory, and to bring out in clear and loving pastel-shades the more fundamental features of him and his life: in other words, the totality of Zeide. Perhaps the borders of the picture, the outlying regions of the mental portrait we have of him, are vague in the minds of many of us. But the central theme of the picture, the essential impression is, I believe, identical for all of us.I have been asked to speak to you, my family, on this occasion of his yahrzeit. I can do no more than, in a few words, attempt to transmit to you what I think is the important part of the picture or impression that I have of him. Perhaps this very gathering of his family to remember him so reverently and lovingly is one aspect of the immortality of his soul. For can we not say that he lives on and lives again when, for a time, he dominates our train of thought? Bio- logical or physical life is not the all of life. Man is a social animal, he lives among men, and therefore when he continues to occupy the minds and considerations of his fellows he cannot be said to have died in the full sense of that word. I dare say that Moses and Isaiah and Maimonides are more alive today than most of us. It is in this sense that I maintain that the gestalt of Zeide which hovers above us here, today, is alive in our memory of his indomitable warmth and essential humanity. We welcome him into our midst.I feel that it is unfortunate for me not to have known him more and better than I did. But those memories I do have, I cherish, and I hope you will allow me to share some of them with you.My very first memory of him - and I feel that the same is true for m…

Dear friends, unfortunately, I never had the honor of meeting the deceased personally. I never had the pleasure of seeing her and talking to her in the synagogue which she so loved. But one did not have to meet Mrs. Mary Bernard to know her. I never saw her; her reputation greeted me before she did or could. Like the luminaries of the heavens, of which the Psalmist writes, “There is no speech nor language; their voice is not heard, yet their sound has gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world”—so with Mary Bernard. Though she did not sing her own praises from the rooftop or have them announced by publicity agents, yet her reputation and good works preceded her, and I knew her through them. In the office of the synagogue in which she worshipped, I was introduced to her parents. Browsing through some old yearbooks, I met her father, that venerable man with the tall yarmulke and well-trimmed beard, who, as one of the founders of Congregation Kehillath Jeshurun and one of its earliest presidents, must have had a considerable influence on the character, personality, and Jewishness of his beloved daughter. She indeed came from the aristocracy of Traditional Judaism, and she brought credit to that heritage. There I also met her children: I met her son, who is an active worker in the field of Jewish education, helping to advance the Religious School which his grandparents helped found and his parents helped develop. All I can say from her reputation as daughter, wife, mother, and grandmother is, “What a woman she must have been.” When we get down to the brass tacks of studying persons and personalities, we might say there are two types of people who respond to life and its changing conditions in totally different ways. There are people who are like willows in the field—when the sun smiles upon the earth, they stand proud and erect, a picture of good health and self-confidence. The warm rays inspire them with courage and cheerfulness. Yet no on…

We are come here to reverence the memory of those dear friends and associates who have departed this year. With tender affections, we commend to G‑d Almighty those souls whom He has called to eternal rest and peace. (List of names here?) Let it be said on their behalf that it was no small merit for them to be affiliated with a benevolent society. By this affiliation they have, in their lifetimes, indicated that they regarded, in creed and deed, that benevolence, gmilas chassodim, is the cornerstone of their lives.a^ G’CH is the distinguishing mark of Jewishness - not long nose, high brow, f*.חסן <(,<’«? - fj^zk ?^1(1 ^ t't'fik (*'$b) at a time when men - intrigue, conspiracy, fiendish weapons, diabolical atom and even hydrogen bombs, hatred and enmity, they tower head and shoulders above fellow humans because they preached and practiced the doctrine of G’Ch. H*״^/c) Death for such people not mere disappearance, erased from records, graveyard of forgotten history. ed) f<^^ J/c 10/v’i ....................... <o^ץ^(t.. AH>I YIJ'I Rabbis: "unto his people"means "each to his own type". Thise dead whom we today memorialize are gathered unto their people who, like Father Abraham, pursued carrer G’Ch, who made life ambition to serve others; ־who knew not only Charity begin at home, but Home begins woth Charity that benevolence is the road on which the children of Abraham can march to immortalitye) {׳y^ |f1 4&£*| . We who vow to continue this sacred work of benevolence; who regard G’Ch as a Service and Benevolence as a Worship of G-d, we welcome their souls to an honorable place of eternal and indelible memory in our hearts. They are gathered unto us.f) Those dear souls shall not be forgotten; the warmth and sentiment which filled their souls, the sacredness and Selflessness ■which guided their actions of benevolence, the dedication and devotion to G’Ch which raised simple men and women to the stature of messengers of mercy, shall forever be for us a G-d…

It is an irony of tragic coincidence that the period of mourning ushered in by the death of Morris Behrman is contemporaneous with the season of national Jewish mourning which began seven days ago and culminates the day after tomorrow in the Tisha B’Av fast, commemorating the destruction of both Temples. The deep sense of anguish of the individual mourners is enhanced and aggravated by the common grief of all Jews. For in a way, just as the national tragedy is felt by all our individual coreligionists, so is the affliction of one individual human being or mourner shared by all people endowed with sensitive spirits and sympathetic souls. The sound of the soul departing from the body, relates an ancient Jewish aphorism, is heard from one end of the world to the other. And indeed Jeremiah, in the very first verses of that monumental national dirge, the Book of Lamentations, exclaims: איכה ישבה בדד העיר רבתי עם היתה כאלמנה — “How doth the city sit solitary, that was full of people; how is she become as a widow.” This prophetic comparison of the tragedies of national destruction and widowhood is no mere poetic metaphor or simile; it rises from the deep knowledge of a soul tormented and in anguish. For national exile and personal misfortune, while differing in degree, are the same in kind. The grievous point of similarity between the calamity of Jerusalem and the woe of the widow lies in that one word “בדד” — solitary. The great...metropolis of Jerusalem remains alone, a ghost city, bereft of its proud sons ant gay daughters. The widow and the orphan feel desolate, robbed of a parent or mate by the bitter irony of Fate. How oppressive the solitude, how terrible the loneliness.But this feeling of Badad, of solitude, is not restricted to the Prophet or the mourner• Loneliness is a stark reality which people, all people, fear all their lives• Is not the fear of Death essentially the fear of eternal loneliness? Is it not a fear that the cruel rhthym of Time will obliterate …

"I call heaven and earth to witness before you this day, that I have set before thee, life and death, the blessing and the curse; therefore choose life..." (Deuteronomy 30:19) These words, which we shall read in the Torah this week, serve as a most fitting epitaph for this noble gentleman to whom we have come to bid farewell this day. Death came to him in stealth, for he lived and lived fully. He was a person who was full of life, who was involved in life, who loved life, and who rose to the divine challenge to choose life.He was a man who was deeply involved in the dyn-mic processes of life. He was a man to whom others would turn in emergency and in crises, for he had 80 well explored the depths of living that he was eminently capable of quick, sure, and well-grounded solutions to the problems that life presented.He was a man who exploited all that life had to offer. He was more then self-made. He made what life had to offer to him, that not only he, but all those whom he loved and knew, would benefit from it. Thus, by his own Initiative, his Inherent curiosity and his inborn desire to absorb the wonders of living, did he study and educate himself to a degree which attracted the admiration of his peers.Abe Suher, also knew that life has an Author and that Author is the Living God of Israel. And he therefore revered religion,respected the faith of his forbears, and saw in the timeless traditions of our people the spark of eternal life. It was the same devotion to God and to faith that endowed him with the interests in and for the community. There ever there was an opportunity for service, for the betterment of life, and for devotion to his people, Abe Suher would Rive of his finest efforts and beat talents.His love was not a narrow one. It transcended the confines of his own society; for he loved all of life, and especially did he love nature in which the drama of life is played out. *I call heaven and earth to witness before thee״. In heaven and on earth, in this…

We are gathered here to bid a final farewell to our beloved Louis Katz on a day when Jewish Law discourages excessive weeping and proscribes words which cause the mourners to indulge in it. Our eulogy therefore shall be just that: not a dirge but a tribute to a man who so richly deserved the words of praise we shall speak and, even more, the un- spoken love and admiration we all feel for him.For indeed, the passing of Louis Katz is a tragedy for you of his family, for his many friends and associates, for Kodimoh and far the entire community. Let this be your con- solation - that so many others share your grief and your sense of irreparable loss.He was the patriarch of his family. And in the traditions of patriarchs of ages gone by, his exalted position in the family was attained by love and sympathy, by selflessness and kindliness, by generosity and the great confidence you had in him.Like the Kohen GADOL of old, who in his most sacred ministra- tions of the year, the AVODAH of Yom Kippur constantly referred to ANI U’VEISSI, "my family and I”, 80 did Louis Katz live not only for ANI but for BEISSI, not only for himself but for his family. To his beloved wife he was a tower of strength who never left her side. I dare say that even now he 1.׳־ill always be with her, as the strong,confident and loving husband he always was, inspiring her through memories as he did by his presence for so many years.To his sister, Mrs. Leah Levi, and his brothers - Ben and Harry and William Katz - he was the elder brother in whose sage counsel and assistance they could always trust.To his children Helen and Milton he was the epitome of Jewish fatherhood, a wise and devoted father who taught by loving example the lessons of family solidarity.His children—in—law returned his love for them with unswerving, dedicated loyalty to him. To his beloved grandchildren and great grandchildren he always must and will remain their cherished and precious and patriarcal ZAIDE, who will live on in their…

In bidding farewell to our beloved relative and dear friend, I commend to your attention the words of King David in the first chapter of the Book of Psalms: “And he shall be like a tree planted by streams of water, that bringeth forth its fruit in its season, and whose leaf doth not wither; and in whatsoever he doeth he shall prosper.” This felicitous simile – “like a tree planted by streams of water” – is particularly appropriate for the kind of person that Abraham Landau was, and is especially significant on this eve of Tu Bi’Shevat, the Arbor Day of Judaism. Like a stately tree planted by streams of living water, he too was a man of great dignity in his demeanor and in his manner. In bearing and in deportment he was wholly a gentleman – impressive and earning the admiration and respect of all those with whom he came in contact. His roots were well nourished. The youngest of a large family, he came from pious and devout parents, who had boasted a long line of sages and rabbis. Though orphaned from both parents by the time he was six years old, Providence granted him the good fortune of an older brother, Lou, may he rest in peace, who was to him a second father, and whom he cherished and loved very dearly indeed. His roots drank in from the streams of the Jewish heritage – the love of God and the love of man. From the roots there grew the tree itself, strong in spirit, firm in conviction. It was a strong trunk, in which firmness of character was merged with loveliness, principled personality with goodness of heart and mellowness of expression. This tree that was Abraham Landau had many branches. What were some of them? First there was the religious branch. He was a man who had deep devotion within, a very genuine and heartfelt commitment to the principles of our Jewish faith. We of The Jewish Center shall surely miss him. He was one of our original founders, one of those who drew the charter of our House of God. He was the kind of man who deserved his reputation a…

מותו של הנפטר חל דש קוראים ויחי, סיפור קץ תולדות אבות, האומה בזקנתם, ותחילת פרשה חדשה בדברי ימי העם. המילים האחרונות של החומש הוי: ״וישם הארון במצרם״ ״ויזהר על אתר, תרי יוד״יין״ (בניישם) ומריץ. ואמאי? כלומר, למה כפל היוד? (ובפרט כאשר שני הם יחד זה סימן לשם ה׳.) ומתפרש, שיוסף הצדיק נטר ברית לעליון ונר ברית לתחתון והכי שתי יוד״ין. כלומר, כל אדם חייב בשתי בריתות:

This is the moment we had feared, and which so many worked with such dedication and so valiantly to avoid, or at least ward off. But, in the words of Job, that man of suffering, את אשר יגרתי יבא לי – “that which I had feared has come to pass.” This occasion is not an end, but a transition. For the family, it is a transition from the comforting knowledge of her presence to the grief that is inevitable in her absence. For her husband, especially, this is the transition from a long and arduous struggle fought on her behalf against a dread disease, to a period when, despite inevitable and inexorable physical defeat, he emerges with a moral victory. And for her, this is the transition between olam hazeh and olam haba – between this life and life hereafter.Two Hebrew words can best describe the mood of this transition period: עם חשיכה . Literally that means ”withthe darkness," and figuratively it means "twilight.” Indeed a sun has set, and it is still too early to feel the full impact of the bitter darkness, and certainly too soon to look for the redeeming rays of the moon and the stars.Even more, this is a twilight not only for a day that is done, but of an entire week, symbolizing the life of Erna Sond- heimer Michael. It is, in the language of our Rabbis, ערב שבת עם חשיכה , the late Friday twilight, that period towards the end of the week when active life, the days of labor, have come to an end, and final peace, the eternal Sabbath מנוחה is about to arrive.It is at a time of this sort that we recall the words of the Mishnah: שלשה דברים צריך אדם לאמר ערב שבת עם חשיכה,*t during this period of twilight on Friday evenings, a man must say three things in his home: , ערבתם , עשרתםהדליקו את הנר : Have you given the tithe? Ha/e you made the Eruv? Light the candle!The home where Mrs. Michael was raised was a distinguished one in Israel. It was a kind of home where she was taught since childhood the three components of life that stand by a person to the ׳ery end, even until ער…

I confess that I am unequal to the task that has been assigned to me this evening. This feeling of inadequacy derives from my conviction that it is psychologically disturbing, logically absurd, and even spiritually sacrilegious to speak of Prof. Bruno Ksich in the past tense. I have not yet reconciled myself to the idea that he is no longer with us. I recognise it as an objective fact, but I cannot accord it subjective validity. For Prof. Kisch, despite his outward serenity, was a man of great vitality and possessed a restless mind that ranged over the whole spectrum of human endeavor. Here is your text with all odd characters, broken symbols, and unnecessary punctuation removed, while keeping the original wording intact:This restlessness and vitality was evident to anyone who entered the home of the Kisches — and I had the privilege of doing so several times, although, alas, all too few. Books were stacked high on all walls of the room. On one wall one could see an ancient set of the Talmud, which bore signs of constant and regular use. On another side of the room, one could notice rows of cardiograms strewn amongst the tomes of venerable philosophers of all ages and lands. Here there were sheets of music used by Mrs. Kisch, there there were works of art, and yet in another corner ancient coins. What dynamic cultural interests were reflected in this home! One rebels against the idea that this home has now lost its head and its pride: the scion of a great rabbinic family of Prague and Zurich; the husband of a distinguished lady, his beloved wife, who is an accomplished artist in her own right; the brother of one of the most eminent Jewish historians of our time; the father of children who themselves are carving out careers in science and the advancement of culture.Dr. Kisch was a Renaissance man. His virtuosity was amazing. In an age when specialization means, almost as a logical corollary, general ignorance in all but one area of knowledge, he specialized in an as…