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Alvin Goldsmith, 1936-2009
Feb. 4th, 2009 12:00 pmOne of my favorite people to debate politics with as an adult, and get good advice that was specifically Not Dads since my teen years, has passed away. He'd been told 6 months to a year about half a year ago. He'd been in pain for a while, but apparently had been pain-free for the last couple of days of his life. I am grateful for that.
Alvin was a good man and a good family man. He and his wife raised three lovely daughters, none of them quite in the same grade at Hebrew school as myself or my sister if I remember correctly - at least not my grade, I was a year younger than the youngest. He believed in giving to his community, and ploughed the snow out of the synagogue parking lot for a number of winters as he had a snow-plow and it was his synagogue. I believe he told me at no charge, it was part of how he contributed to the community. After a number of years of doing this, however, and a distinct lack of appreciation from the synagogue for his contributions, he left and went elsewhere. The only times he would come back would be to see his family or mine at a function, such as a Shabbat when my parents would sponsor the Kiddush after the morning services, or celebrating my parents becoming grandparents.
He ran for public office in Worcester Massachusetts several times, never winning. He was a Republican, strongly libertarian and at times Libertarian. He was a compassionate man in his stances and we agreed about more than you might think in terms of political philosophy. A year ago my father told me he was one of the 28% who thought Bush was doing a good job in office, and yet I would not, could not, hold that against him despite all that Bush stood for. Besides, I never heard it directly from him - possibly a smart move on his part, but I doubt I would have held it against him even then. I know where his heart was.
He wasn't a saint, as such, in that he had something of the imp in his sense of humor. Never pranks, just wordplay, and my family does love wordplay. Many years ago he and his wife Marilyn brought me with them for a day of travelling around in one of their small planes. They mostly ran errands, checking on properties around the state and in New Jersey. At the end of the day they brought me to Margaritaville at the edge of Worcester. That was how it was known back then before they changed the name to Margaritas for some unknown reason, probably related to Jimmy Buffet. He encouraged me to try the steak. At the time I still kept Kashruth at a stricter standard than I do now, but I ate it. They told me they'd never tell my parents, and as far as I know they never did. For any of my relatives reading this, that's about the most sinful he ever encouraged me to be.
And yes, it was a good steak.
In later years he'd had problems with his health - while I was still in my teens. His doctor told him he could have surgery or he would need to moderate his diet and get more exercise. He started being more cautious on his diet, then eventually moved to a completely vegan diet. He managed, and he did it well.
From time to time, when I was in Worcester, I'd pop over to his office on Park Avenue and see if he was there, just to say Hi. I didn't do this as often as I might have, but I did several times. I caught him in more often than not and he was always glad to chat for a little while.
A couple of months ago I was talking with him on the phone. This was after the diagnosis had been made. He complained a little bit about how his doctor had missed the cancer on his yearly physical a number of months before, and if it had been caught then it could have been nipped in the bud - this thing grew fast. I would say that given the circumstances he was entitled to a little complaining on the matter. I had never known him to really complain, at least not to me, so it was a bit of a departure. He generally had a good life.
I told him, "I always figured I'd have more time to come talk to you. I mean, you were always great for advice that was Not Dad's." Later in the conversation I mentioned I was going to miss him. "Thank you," he said, each time.
There will be memorial services for him tomorrow. I am currently feeling sick, so my mother has warned me off from going. I may go anyways if I can pry out where it is.
I grew up calling him Mr. Goldsmith. When I became an adult he told me I should call him by his first name, but habit and a certain level of respect tinged with awe kept me at Mr. Goldsmith for an extra decade. In the past several years I did call him Alvin, or sometimes Al.
I am going to miss him. For all that I told him a couple of months early I am very glad I got the chance to explicitly tell him this.
I wish I could have asked him his thoughts on being an adult. I don't know how the second part would go, but I know the what he would have said first: "I'll tell you as soon as I get there."
Goodbye Alvin.
Alvin was a good man and a good family man. He and his wife raised three lovely daughters, none of them quite in the same grade at Hebrew school as myself or my sister if I remember correctly - at least not my grade, I was a year younger than the youngest. He believed in giving to his community, and ploughed the snow out of the synagogue parking lot for a number of winters as he had a snow-plow and it was his synagogue. I believe he told me at no charge, it was part of how he contributed to the community. After a number of years of doing this, however, and a distinct lack of appreciation from the synagogue for his contributions, he left and went elsewhere. The only times he would come back would be to see his family or mine at a function, such as a Shabbat when my parents would sponsor the Kiddush after the morning services, or celebrating my parents becoming grandparents.
He ran for public office in Worcester Massachusetts several times, never winning. He was a Republican, strongly libertarian and at times Libertarian. He was a compassionate man in his stances and we agreed about more than you might think in terms of political philosophy. A year ago my father told me he was one of the 28% who thought Bush was doing a good job in office, and yet I would not, could not, hold that against him despite all that Bush stood for. Besides, I never heard it directly from him - possibly a smart move on his part, but I doubt I would have held it against him even then. I know where his heart was.
He wasn't a saint, as such, in that he had something of the imp in his sense of humor. Never pranks, just wordplay, and my family does love wordplay. Many years ago he and his wife Marilyn brought me with them for a day of travelling around in one of their small planes. They mostly ran errands, checking on properties around the state and in New Jersey. At the end of the day they brought me to Margaritaville at the edge of Worcester. That was how it was known back then before they changed the name to Margaritas for some unknown reason, probably related to Jimmy Buffet. He encouraged me to try the steak. At the time I still kept Kashruth at a stricter standard than I do now, but I ate it. They told me they'd never tell my parents, and as far as I know they never did. For any of my relatives reading this, that's about the most sinful he ever encouraged me to be.
And yes, it was a good steak.
In later years he'd had problems with his health - while I was still in my teens. His doctor told him he could have surgery or he would need to moderate his diet and get more exercise. He started being more cautious on his diet, then eventually moved to a completely vegan diet. He managed, and he did it well.
From time to time, when I was in Worcester, I'd pop over to his office on Park Avenue and see if he was there, just to say Hi. I didn't do this as often as I might have, but I did several times. I caught him in more often than not and he was always glad to chat for a little while.
A couple of months ago I was talking with him on the phone. This was after the diagnosis had been made. He complained a little bit about how his doctor had missed the cancer on his yearly physical a number of months before, and if it had been caught then it could have been nipped in the bud - this thing grew fast. I would say that given the circumstances he was entitled to a little complaining on the matter. I had never known him to really complain, at least not to me, so it was a bit of a departure. He generally had a good life.
I told him, "I always figured I'd have more time to come talk to you. I mean, you were always great for advice that was Not Dad's." Later in the conversation I mentioned I was going to miss him. "Thank you," he said, each time.
There will be memorial services for him tomorrow. I am currently feeling sick, so my mother has warned me off from going. I may go anyways if I can pry out where it is.
I grew up calling him Mr. Goldsmith. When I became an adult he told me I should call him by his first name, but habit and a certain level of respect tinged with awe kept me at Mr. Goldsmith for an extra decade. In the past several years I did call him Alvin, or sometimes Al.
I am going to miss him. For all that I told him a couple of months early I am very glad I got the chance to explicitly tell him this.
I wish I could have asked him his thoughts on being an adult. I don't know how the second part would go, but I know the what he would have said first: "I'll tell you as soon as I get there."
Goodbye Alvin.
