Feeling Good
All families are made up of all kinds of people. Some family members are good, charitable, smart, and empathetic. Some are a little crazy but in a good way. Others are selfish and self centered. I’m sure that every family has a member that is the black sheep. The one that nobody likes or can stand being around. Stories abound about all types and we relate them to each other, close friends, and even new acquaintances. I have a few “feel good” stories about the nicer, more inspirational relatives in my tree.
My mother, Minnie Levine nee Boxinbaum was a beautiful soul. She was always willing to help anybody with anything. One of her passions was literacy. It was important to her that all people should be able to read and have access to all of the information that is available to her. I remember that she used to read newspapers and text books to a blind young woman who was becoming a Nun at Mercyhurst College which was just a couple of blocks from our house. They became friendly and Mom and discussed the news and the subject matter from the textbooks with her. Her name was Ann and Mom invited her to my Bar Mitzvah. When my mother passed away, the guest book from her funeral included Ann’s name. Minnie went on to start tutoring people who had issues with reading and reading comprehension. An immigrant from Italy named Joe was one of her first students. He had so much trouble learning to read and write in English that he could not pass the citizenship test nor advance in his job. Using a new method, my mother instructed Joe and guided him to the point of success in both endeavors. She also tutored a young teenager who had been struggling in school. Today, he would have been diagnosed with a learning disability but back in the early 70’s that wasn’t the typical analysis. Her patience, understanding, and compassion resulted in Larry getting back on track in school. His family was so appreciative of the work she did the bought her a gift. It was the Lenox Seder Plate. It came along with a thank you note that when I read it, it brought tears to my eyes.
My grandfather Louis Levine, was an inspirational figure because of the physical challenges he faced. A week before his 20th birthday in 1905 he was struck by a trolley car in Mt. Pleasant, PA which resulted in the amputation of his left arm and both legs just below the knees. Despite this he got married, raised six children, owned several businesses and lived to the ripe old age of 96. One of my favorite stories about him is when he once fell and broke his hip. The doctor who treated him told Louis that he would never walk again. Louis looked the doctor in the eye and proclaimed “I’ll walk on your grave.” He was able to walk again and one morning after reading the obituaries in the newspaper he called my father. That doctor had died and my grandfather wanted a ride to the cemetery to fulfill his promise. Of course, my father refused but it shows you the indeterminable spirit and stubbornness that my grandfather needed to display on a daily basis in order to survive his disability.
My grandmother, Tillie Levine nee Kaganovich was somewhat of a saint. In 1914 when a bride married a triple amputee it raised a lot of questions. There was a stigma that followed people with physical disabilities and even members of her own family wondered if she was making the right choice. Tillie was comfortable with her decision. She catered to Louis’s needs. The armchairs that were in the living room were adorned with armrest covers but only on the right side because that was the only arm that was resting. I stopped in to visit one day when my father had taken Louis to Pittsburgh for some business. Tillie was walking around without her teeth in and I asked her why. She said that they were hurting her mouth but she always wore them when Louis was home because she needed to look good for him. When asked about living with a man with such disabilities she simply answered “I always thought of him as a whole man.” What a beautiful sentiment.
My Uncle Dave was married to my mother’s sister, Rose. They lived in Canada and we used to go and visit several times a year. Sometimes, we would stay there for a week while my parents or maybe just my father would go back to Erie. Uncle Dave was a little scary. He was gruff and always threatened to take off his belt and give us a strapping. He never did but the threat was really intimidating. Aunt Rose used to tell my cousins when they got into trouble that their father would give them the strap when he got home from work if they misbehaved. Once she made Uncle Dave take one of the kids upstairs for their punishment and the sound of the strap and the ensuing screams were enough to keep the kids in line. However when Aunt Rose opened the door she saw that Uncle Dave was hitting the bed with his belt and her son was screaming with a big smile on his face. I guess that all of his gruffness was just a ploy. He was really a softy at heart.
Jack Carlton was my Father in Law. He had changed his name from Jacob Cohen when he applied to college. There was a bias against Jewish students in the late 30s. He loved his two daughters and adored his grandchildren. Jack died in 1986 but his spirit remained. After his death, his daughter Rochelle went into a bookstore to pick up a book she had ordered. While waiting for the clerk she noticed a book on the counter with a slip of paper on it that said “reserved for Jack Carlton.” Rochelle asked the clerk about it and the clerk didn’t have any idea who ordered the book, or who it was for, or how it even got there. On the day of Jack’s granddaughter’s Bat Mitzvah, Jack’s picture fell off of the wall in Rochelle’s house. We all were excited when we watched the movie “Air Force One” and saw that one of the fighter jets that was escorting the damaged presidential plane was piloted by none other than Col. Jack Carlton. I really don’t subscribe to paranormal beliefs but it is fun to speculate about these coincidences and feel that Jack was trying to contact us from beyond.
I was a youth basketball coach for both of my kids. We had a lot of fun and actually had some good teams. One year I had a young man of Indian descent on my team. His name was Dev and he was my last choice in the draft. Dev was not an athlete. In fact he really had no business being on a basketball court. But he was smart, he knew his limitations, and most importantly he was tall. I worked very hard with Dev to define his role on the team. I told him that he didn’t need to score but we needed him to rebound and block shots. I started him every game to be our representative for the tip off. He knew not to dribble the ball but rather pass it to one of the guards when he got a rebound. He was elated when he put back a rebound for a basket and his team mates cheered him on to stoke some confidence in his play. One day I was at the grocery store and I hear somebody call to me. “Coach, coach” he said. It was Dev’s father. “I want to thank you for what you have done for our son” he said. I answered, “What do you mean?” Dev’s father continued to tell me how much his son loves playing on the team. He loves the practices and can’t wait for the games. “You have lit a fire under him. Thank you so much” he exclaimed and then he turned and walked away. I felt like I had just won the lottery.
The giving spirit runs strong in my family, much like the force (we are a Star Wars family) and our lives are peppered with anecdotes like these above and they personify the attributes of compassion, determination, love, and kindness which runs rampant in my ancestors and their ensuing generations. We should all strive to be part of the “feel good” stories for all of our future generations.
I love this! Thanks for the beautiful true inspirations!
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