Marty's Yahrzeit

Marty Schulman, around 1972

This evening marks my father's 7th Yahrzeit.  A Yahrzeit is the Hebrew Anniversary of when someone dies.  My father died (according to the Jewish Calendar) on 8 Av 5765.  This is notable because the 9th of Av is a Fast Day known as Tisha B'Av, a date that commemorates the destruction of both Temples in Jerusalem, as well as the expulsion of the Jews from Spain and all sorts of other bad things during the course of Jewish History.  Dad hated Tisha B'Av with a passion, he always felt that it was a celebration of defeat and failure, and while he was quite ill at the end, it is fitting perhaps that he chose to not live through one more Tisha B'Av.

I do not want to mourn my father's death, I want the celebrate his life.  My father was a remarkable man in my memory.  Born in 1925, my father grew up in a modest 2 bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.  He had an older brother (Robert) and Uncle (Harry) who lived with him and my grandparents in a 2 bedroom 1 bath apartment in Boro Park.  Dad graduated New Utrecht High School in 1943 (with Buddy Hackett) and ended up being sent to Biloxi Mississippi for Basic Training in the Army.  If you saw the Neil Simon play Biloxi Blues, that was what dad went through.

Dad was wounded in action in November 1944, came home after the war and went to Brooklyn College on the GI Bill.  Not a great student, dad never actually got a Bachelors Degree, but instead went to Brooklyn Law School, graduating in 1952.  That same year he married my mother.  In 1958 Michael was born, they moved to Albany in 1959, Seth was born in 1961 and I came along in 1962.  Dad worked for the State of NY as an Attorney from 1959 to 1988, became a Social Security Judge in 1988 until 1999 and my parents moved to Tampa, Fl in 1988.

Dad loved playing tennis, rooting for the NY Giants (something that was really tough in the 1970s) and was devoted to his family.  Unfortunately for my kids, I've inherited my dad's sense of humor and tell the same crappy jokes he did.

Dad loved Wild Turkey Bourbon, and although I'm a Single Malt Scotch drinker through and through, tonight I'll raise a glass of Wild Turkey on the rocks, and salute his memory.  In Judaism, when we talk about a dead person, we say "Zichrona Le Bracha", "May his memory be for a blessing".  The memory of my father is a blessing for all who know him, especially for my brothers, their families, my wife Elyse, daughters Haley and Whitney and me. 

As we say when we raise a glass L'Chaim! To Life!

What is our responsibility?

I've been following the horror that has unfolded in Aurora Colorado since yesterday morning.  My first thought when I heard about it, and watched the news while getting ready for work on Friday morning was "Oh my God!'  My second thought was for the people that Elyse and I know in that area, were any of them in the theater? did any of them know people who were injured or killed?  Having gotten in touch with them and finding out that they and their families are okay, I started reading more.

First, as I always do, I read articles.  I still find that the NY Times has the best straight reporting of any newspaper, print or online, that I have read.  I then read the quickly put together Op Ed pieces on nytimes.com.  I'm personally middle of the road on gun control but I am not surprised that the prevailing view was that we need stricter gun control. 

Finally, I read the comments on the Op Eds.  I read one that I found particularly disturbing.  The poster wrote that because it is predominantly young adult males that commit most of the crimes using guns in this country (and the poster also mentioned traffic fatalities as well), then we would be best served by writing  laws that restricted gun ownership for that demographic.  That was my second "Oh my God" moment of the day.  I read that comment as a person abdication of responsibility.  Make no mistake, we are responsible for our children's actions.  We teach them right from wrong.  We teach them good from bad.  We all need to live the words of Pirkei Avot (Sayings of the fathers)  "If I am not for myself who will be for me?  If I am only for myself, what am I?  If not now when?"

My heart goes out to the families and victims of this horrific crime.  My heart goes out to the mother of this deranged young man whose first words were apparently "You got the right person".  My thoughts and prayers go out to all of us to make sure that we do everything we can to not allow something like this to happen again.