Elkan Gamzu

In the spring of 1991, Zelda and I attended a bat-mitzvah of the daughter of friends in Ann Arbor, Michigan.  We had been in Newton since the late fall of 1990 - just after Yom Kippur.  In talking to acquaintances at the bat-mitzvah, we were urged to call her cousin in Newton  - a Sherry Israel, which we did on our return.

I am not sure how far we had gotten into the conversation when the inevitable question was asked, "What are you doing for dinner on Friday night?"  We had no plans and indeed that was our first meeting with Dick and Sherry.  There we heard about the Minyan and other matters and found good friends, and that evening had such a profound positive influence on our lives in the past decade that it is impossible to describe.

So Dick and Sherry (and this is as much about Sherry, as it is about Dick.  As wonderful as Dick was, I am convinced that no small part if his strengths derived from his partner in life) were a source of information and inspiration from the very beginning of our acquaintance.  That was the first of many wonderful evenings and lunches, mostly centered on Shabbat and chagim.

Shortly thereafter, I started running again.  I had actually run the hills of Newton many years before when I ran the Boston marathon, but had not been active as a runner for about 5 years.  What a delight to find both Dick and Sherry out there in the early mornings.  Through Dick I came to know the roads of Newton to the millimeter.  One had to go to the exact place on the road, and not a step less, to guarantee a distance of 3.5, 13.4 or whatever mileage.  I also learned of those public facilities that one could avail one's self of in times of need.

More importantly, one could enter into conversations that conveyed one all over the world, geographically, spiritually, intellectually.  When you see someone most days of the year (Dick ran every day.  I am less compulsive - e.g. I correct my mileage at the end of the year by 5% for over optimism, although it is also collected in tenths of a mile) in minus 20 degrees to 80+ degrees Fahrenheit, you get to know them in ways that are more intimate than casual acquaintances.

During Shiva, Sol Schimmel said that Dick epitomized the saying in Pirkei Avot (3:3) that "she'shnayim yoshvim beyachad ....." [when two people sit together and talk torah the holy spirit is with them].  In Dick's case, it was not simply when sitting -it occurred when he was running, walking, whatever.  The conversations ranged over a wide variety of topics.  When I finally got to read the "Kosher Pig", I found that I knew quite a few of the stories.  It is also the case that I can read that book now and almost hear Dick telling the stories.  Shortly after it came out, I called a local bookstore to see if they carried it.  Dick loved the response - "Hold on a second - I'll transfer you to the cookbook section."

We runners were also privy to hearing about the development of the famous Tashlich list as it happened, although my suggested items were mercifully not included.  In general, a casual question to Dick about Judaica would result in a detailed answer, sometime later after Dick had managed to look up the appropriate sources.

We delighted in discussing esoterica - My computer is filled with files on the topic of which haftarah one should say for Acharei Mot/Kedoshim under all the various circumstances.  Moreover, we never could come to closure on our argument about how to call up a bat-mitzvah.  For a young man, it is clearly ya'amod ..X ben Y and Z le-maftir chazak.  It was the last word we disagreed on.  Dick was of the opinion that it was the imperative form.  I thought it was the adjectival form.  Therefore I had been using maftirah chazakah.  Dick wanted me to use chizki. We somehow avoided the maftir (ah) question.  I still disagree with him, but in order to make the adjectival form more apparent, I have been saying le-maftir chazak.  

Who cares, you probably think.  Yet this was one of the wonderful things about Dick.  When it came to things Jewish he cared deeply and loved any intellectual challenge.  I was particularly fond of his two-language puns.  The Shabbat after the funeral we read in Chukat about the parah adumah (the red heifer).  While running one morning we turned to a story about an attempt in Israel to identify a parah adumah. Dick asked me about cloning  it - I thought we might finally get to a topic about which I knew more than he did.  The question was what do you get when you clone a parah adumah -the answer is a korban copy! [Korban being the Hebrew for a sacrifice].  Another pun I delighted in was the suggested name of his follow-on book to the Kosher Pig which was to be "Hachazir Be-tseshuvah" [Not readily translated -the closest I can come is the Born-Again Pig, but that doesn't capture the play words], but Sherry tells me that this one was the invention of Reuven Kinelman.  Still Dick inspired it.

 Shortly before the 100th running of the Boston marathon (1996), Dick informed me that he was going to register and complete it.  He had been running a little less than when I had first met him on the roads and certainly more slowly.  I volunteered to accompany him, especially during the latter part of the race.  I was saved from going the whole way, when his son Josh decided to run the first half with his father.  At some point during the festivities, I started running/walking towards City Hall, then the Braeburn Country Club and eventually down route 16, where I finally met the Israels.  Dick was walking by this point and it was getting colder.  Josh tells me that I gave Dick my jacket.  What I do remember was Josh running ahead to get warmer clothes for Dick, who kept moving up the hill.  I ran ahead to our house and also got some extra clothing.

Then we walked in the rest of the way - 5 or 6 miles.  I wish I could remember exactly what we talked about, but honestly cannot - it was simply another afternoon of delightful company and conversation and discovery. Dick had to reach the finish line within 6 hours to get an official time.  Every so often, people or cars blocked our path, and I got a lot of pleasure yelling, "Runner coming through!"  The masses parted, the police stopped traffic and we went forward.  By the time we neared the finish line, time was running out, but Dick made it.  However, as we turned the corner there were a whole bunch of television lights trying to capture the last of the official completers.  I quickly absented myself, lest I be considered a faux finisher.  Dick was appropriately tired after the 26 miles, 385 yards, but we had to get from the Boston Library to the parking lot between the Common and the Public Garden where Dick would hand in his microchip and be "official".  Fortunately, I saw some volunteers with a little golf-cart, who were delighted to transport us to the appropriate place.

How were we to return to Newton?  Dick had brought two tokens with - public transport was the ideal!  I finally got to override him!  Pulling the notes I had concealed on my body, I was able to persuade him to take a cab back to the parking lot.  He even let me do the driving back to Ballard Street - and so to bed and a well-deserved rest.

As in many situations Dick had been an inspiration, not just by advocacy, but also by actual deed.  His influence will be with us forever.  Good-bye dear friend. Zchor lo tzidkato.

Elkan Gamzu