Rabbi Al Axelrad
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Dick was such a clever, inventive, resourceful, fascinating,
multi-facted, impish, thoughtful, provocative, sharp, good-natured,
quick-witted, curious, searching, pragmatic, problem-solving, funny,
infuriating, adorable person that you could find yourself knee-deep in
material for a very long time....
With this very wise wise-guy gone, to whom do we turn to edit our
overlong pieces? And what about running creative ideas and bird-brained
schemes by him? And who will pronounce verdicts like "sheker v'chazar,"
and "lo hayah v'lo yihyeh" about what is untrue, inaccurate, or invalid?
My four children, all in their thirties, remember Dick vividly and
warmly from their earlier childhood days as the good-humored,
warm-hearted man who hand-delivered (by scooter, of course) honey every
year before Rosh HaShanah, with the honey invariably being identified on
the jar as Totzeret Yisrael -- product of Israel, or some similar name.
Dick was genuinely attuned to kids in a natural way. He forged a
special bond of understanding and empathy with one of my children who
had a dreadful, even dangerous phobia of bees as a little girl, inviting
her to his gracious home any number of times and introducing her
personally, gingerly and gently to his hives, hoping in that way to
reduce, if not eliminate, her phobia. It helped a little, but what
really mattered was his caring concern and incredible hospitality -- the
hospitality of the open and welcoming home that is a Dick and Sherry
Israel trademark.
When Dick arrived in Boston to assume the area directorship of Hillel
and to form the Metropolitan Hillel Council of Greater Boston, he shared
with some frequency and frustration some of his difficulties (apart from
the abundant joys) of inheriting among among the region's Hillel
directors three Vatikim -- longtime Hillel veterans whom he called his
Three Prima Donnas (Ben Zion Gold of Harvard, Joe Polack of B.U., and
myself, at Brandeis). We had a proclivity toward irregular attendance
at meetings, and, wanting all of us to be present at his monthly
sessions, Dick boldly and emphatically announced, more than once, that
"the only acceptable excuse for missing a Hillel staff meeting is death
-- yours or mine."
In that and other, related connections, Dick repeatedly taught me a
valuble, practical lesson. Pragmatic realist and master tactician that
he was, Dick used to say that often, what we *don't* do gets more notice
(and ruffles more feathers) than what we do. For example, your
attendance may be scarcely observed, but your absence will raise
eyebrows and catch up with you one way or another. How right he was (as
usual)!
Dick was a consummate professional, as well as a person of the keenest
insight, perceptiveness and acumen. His mind was exceptionally piercing
and penetrating, and always working; it had no shut-off switch. As a
supervisor, his evaluations were succinct and on target. He had an
uncanny ability to hone in on the essence of matters and to pinpoint
deficiencies in a constructive and validating way.
Among other things, Dick was the master at fundraising in Hillel
circles, and we all recognized that. Not wanting the proverbial ship to
sink, I learned much from Dick about fundraising and devoted
considerable energies to that pursuit. I agreed with him that if we
Hillel directors failed to roll up our sleeves and engage in fundraising
with imagination and preserverence, support would not be forthcoming
quickly enough from other quarters. At more than one national
conference he lauded my fundraising ventures, citing my imaginative
enterprises and explaining to our colleagues the secret ingredient
behind the success I enjoyed -- namely, "When Al goes after someone for
funding, it never occurs to him that the solicitee may turn him down."
This was one of his ways of emphasizing the importance of
self-confidence, and of faith in the task and its goal.
Dick knew how to be a friend, and I can't think of many greater
virtues. He was steadfast and loyal, understanding and compassionate.
He knew how to empathize, and stood by his friends in all kinds of
difficulties. With his characteristic twinkle, he would say, "If only I
had no alternative -- I would throw you to the wolves!"
Studying and learning with Dick was enormous fun, and I count myself
lucky to have had the chance to study Midrash with him once a week for
several years. His keen intellect and questioning mind made learning
together a genuine treat, and arguing with him was great fun. It was
always stimulating to be in his provocative presence as he roamed all
over the Jews map, along roadways charted and uncharted. He was a model
of spiritual search.
He could also be infuiriating. He could tweak you, and could bug the
hell out of you. He had an inimitable way with words, soft and hard
alike. He could be gentle and he could be tough. He was a charmer and
he was a pain. But as far as I'm concerned, he was always lovable.
I feel proud to have been his friend and his colleague.