EXODUS: OTHER ANGELS
IN THE FIRMAMENT

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Exodus, the second book of the Torah, refers to the escape of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt.

 

Passover is the Jewish holiday that commemorates this escape, including the miracle of God parting the Red Sea for Moses, leader of the Israelites.

 

We have some wonderful leaders today in the United States and in the world, like President Joe Biden and Vice-President Kamala Harris, who honor God.

 

God comes first, then country; and our country, the United States, provides the best chance for freedom, for justice, for true justice, for true light and truth in the world.

 

We are a country of laws.

 

And no one is above the law, not a president, not a senator or congressman, not a justice or judge, not a reporter, not anyone.

 

No one is above the law.

 

Angels, of course, float above in the heavens, and they sometimes swoop down and interact with us on the earth.

 

One of the most beautiful angels, one of the most beautiful souls, integral to my life and the opus, is Herb Goodwin, a former state judge, eminent in his field and in every way.

 

Herb may have been the fairest person I have ever met, and that is one of the best qualities for a judge or for anyone on this planet.

 

Like Andrew Levy and Mr. Delaney Kiphuth, who is the subject of a special tribute on this site, Herb bonded with me over sports, baseball in particular.

 

Under the guidance of the Lord, I wrote a tribute to Herb that appeared in the Huffington Post in 2015 at the time of Herb’s passing.

 

Herb was an avuncular figure, who looked out for me for years.  Herb protected me from evil, and he served the Lord by helping all of us.

 

Herb was a beacon of integrity as a prosecutor at the Justice Department and the U.S. Attorney’s office, as a lawyer in private practice, as a judge, as a husband, as a father and as a friend.

 

And, as I noted earlier, Herb and I loved to talk about the national pastime.

 

We hit it off right away.

 

Though we talked about many subjects, politics, music, movies and other sports, we almost always came back to baseball.

 

Herb was for many years my dearest friend, under God, and I will always remember Herb and his family.

 

Herb and Rhoda, Herb’s wife, and their daughters, Joanne, and Carolyn and her husband Dan, and Lauren and her husband Adam, as well as Herb and Rhoda’s grandson, Gabriel, and their sweet dog, Gunther, are all angels to me.

 

I first met Herb, who went to Tufts with my dad, and Rhoda, who was my mother’s college roommate at Boston University, when I was a child and already a sports fan.

 

Rhoda is still a dear friend of my mother’s and mine.  Like Herb, she is joyful and positive and expert not only in her field as a psychologist but also in politics and wisdom and literature, not unlike my mother, as befits former roommates, who remain boon friends.

 

As I wrote in my Huffington Post tribute to Herb, a piece that ran in 2015, I can recall the first time that I met Herb, who, like Rhoda, never flagged in his good cheer, kindness and wisdom.

 

He very sweetly let me watch an NFL playoff game when my family and I were visiting him and Rhoda and their family at their home in Brookline, Mass., in 1976.

 

Herb was always kind.  And he always gave me loving advice, perhaps never more so than in 1999 during my relapse.

 

“There are some things that I can’t control,” said Herb to me over the phone, when I was in the midst of psychosis.  “But there’s one thing I know: Nothing is going to happen to you.”

 

Herb’s words of sublime tenderness comforted me, though I was very ill at the time.

 

Herb never stopped being kind and generous to me with his love, with his thoughtfulness, and with his honor.

 

A state judge in Massachusetts, Herb cared deeply about civil rights, human rights, gay rights and all rights.

 

He represented the highest ideals of our country and of the world.

 

Herb stood for justice, true justice, light and truth in the truest sense of those words.

 

We need people like Herb in this world because it is people like Herb, people of light and truth, true light and truth, who, under the Lord, will help lead us out of the darkness and the shadow of death, to paraphrase from the Book of Job.

 

It is people like Herb Goodwin, who stand up for the oppressed and against evil.

 

Herb absolutely did the Lord’s work, though Herb might have referred to it in a different manner.

 

Herb, chief judge of his district in Massachusetts, inspired me, and he contributed mightily to making this a planet of ideals, a planet that we can and all should love.

 

Herb is still helping us and still helping me from his perch in the heavens.

 

My dad, Bob Jaffee, who, like Barbara, has a special section on this website, also stood for light and truth, the true light and truth, the highest ideals.

 

It goes without saying that my dad is one of the greatest angels in my life, under God.

 

It was my dad, who originally brought sports, including baseball, into my life when I was a little boy.

 

He showed me how to hit, and he gave me my first pitches.

 

He entranced me with his discussions of the Oakland A’s, of Catfish Hunter and Vida Blue and Blue Moon Odom and Reggie Jackson, whose colorful names and colorful uniforms all percolated in my subconscious.

 

He helped me develop strength and endurance in my arm when I threw a ball by having me move farther and farther away from him after every toss.

 

We did this exercise with my right-hand, because my dad and I both thought that I was right-handed.

 

In fact, I am left-dominant, something I did not realize for almost 40 years after my kindergarten trauma, a trauma that I have discussed at length in other writings.

 

I thank God that I do have decent strength in my right hand, as in my left, and much of that strength undoubtedly comes from these exercises with my dad when I threw baseballs as a kid.

 

God oversaw this activity, as He oversees everything in my life and in everyone’s life.

 

God is everything.

 

To repeat what my friend Carolyn Whiley and her mother, Mama, Lucille Whiley, often say, God is!

 

God IS!

 

God is everything beautiful in this world, in the heavens and the earth.

 

God is Barbara, my soul mate.

 

And God is every friend and angel that I have ever had.

 

As I said earlier, God is my dad and my mom, who, along with my Barbara, are the greatest influences in my life, under the Lord.

 

God is other family members, including my brother, Bill, and his wife, Nancy, and his sons, Weston, a young man of empathy and kindness; BB, gifted in art and very interested in Barbara’s book about Carlitos, our cat who had diabetes; and Warren, a remarkable student, one of character and dignity.

 

God is my cousins Susan and Jonathan and their children, as well as Debbie and her brother Jonathan, beautiful souls, all of whom gave me love and support when I was a boy and after.

 

God is my Aunt Gloria, with her strength and sense of humor, and Uncle Harold, who loved to fish and talk about sports, and my Uncle Marv, my godfather in this lifetime and a high angel, and some of Uncle Marv’s family members, such as his mother, Dorothy, a delightful woman, as well as my other cousin Jonathan, an artist and maven of coffee.

 

God is my dad’s parents, Grandma Birdie, extraordinarily strong and wise, and Grandpa Samuel, who flutters in the ether.

 

God is my dad’s cousins, and ours, from Mexico, Rena and Sonia and Maria and Isadoro, whom we also met in New York, and Sergio, whom we first met in Mexico and with whom I later hung out in Massachusetts, and Sergio’s mother and dad, and Stanley and Dollie and Andrew and Ivan and family, sweethearts in Florida, and their family.

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God is Lisa and Jennifer and Paula and Joe Reagan and family.

 

God is Benjamin Harshav and his wife, Barbara, and their family.

 

God is Harold Bloom and his wife, Jean, and their family.

 

Like many of the others listed above, Professors Harshav and Bloom taught me at Yale College, and they riveted me with their idealism and their love for literature, Jewish semiotics, the J writer, poetry and language arts.

 

God is Steve Ross, who showed what it means to be a true leader when he selflessly stood up for me when I was a student at the Yale School of Management and in danger of being kicked out of school, due to the lies and evil of others.

 

Professor Ross and some of his Yale SOM colleagues, like Barry Nalebuff and Ed Kaplan and Subrata Sen and Ted Marmor and Art Swersey and Sharon Oster and Rick Antle and Amir Ziv and Joel Demski and others, gave me support when I was struggling.

 

They are heroes, led by Professor Ross, under the aegis of the Lord.

 

God is also my classmates and friends from the Yale School of Management, such as Dan Levine and his wife, Katherine, both of whom possess a modesty, emotional intelligence and empathy of the highest caliber.

 

Dan and Kate helped me so much when I was at Yale SOM.

 

They always cared for me.

 

Dan once told me that, in taking a class in organizational behavior, I needed to “check my ego at the door.”

 

He was right.

 

We all need to check our egos at the door in life, for this is God’s world.

 

God is the Creator of our world.  God is the Resurrection.  And God is the Author and Finisher of everything beautiful in our lives.

 

If we have ever done anything sublime, whatever it is, the Lord did that for us.

 

We need to remind ourselves of this, or we need to learn this, if we have not already.

 

As we know from the Book of Job, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh.

 

And God works in mysterious ways.

 

Another piece of wisdom that the Lord chanted in Dan Levine was this adage that I saw affixed to his refrigerator in Connecticut.

 

“Live simply, so others can simply live.”

 

I have not necessarily honored the adage, but it is a good one.  It is right on point.

 

And one thing that we need to do to simplify our lives is to be modest, to check our egos at the door.

 

Besides Dan and Katherine Levine, I have other wonderful friends from my time at the Yale School of Management, like Igor Helekal, my roommate back then, and his wife, Zuzana, and their family; Vittorio Calvanico, one of my dearest friends, and his family; Lo Presser, a woman of depth and soul with a love for song and community; Bruce Evans, a special angel, whom I had known from Hopkins, and his family; Rebekah Lambert, my then-girlfriend, with her beauty and compassion, and her family; Sarah Jane Holcombe, whom I also dated, a dear and loyal friend; and Jennifer McKinley, a delightful colleague.

 

All of these angels were kind to me, and I am forever grateful.

 

I salute them and the many other friends and angels who helped me during that period of time from 1992 through 1994.

 

God is other dear friends of mine over the years, like Tom Lee, my buddy from elementary school, and his family, including Brian and Patti and Bob and Mr. Robert and Mrs. Peggy Lee.

 

A former Boy Scout, who reveres the Golden Rule, Tom is one of the strongest and most beautiful souls I have encountered.

 

The Lord had Tom teach me how to play chess and how to run a post and other football patterns.

 

Tom is one of the best angels, flying in the ether.

 

I feel very lucky that the Lord brought Tom and his family into my life when I was a kid at Spring Glen School.

 

Brian Plante is another friend and angel of mine from elementary school.

 

He was my best friend in kindergarten, who had remarkable strength of character, kindness and maturity, which is quite unusual for a young child.

 

Brian stood up for me when we were kids, and it cost him.

 

He suffered because of me, a point to which I alluded in a Thrive Global piece.

 

I am very sorry that I caused Brian so much pain, and I would love to apologize to him, face to face and publicly.

 

Brian is a dear friend with more character than just about anyone else from my childhood.

 

I admire Brian, and I deeply regret the pain that I caused him.

 

Like Tom Lee, Brian Plante surges high in the heavens, where he belongs as one of the top angels.

 

God bless you, Brian, and your mom, your dad, your sister and your family!

 

God is other dear friends from other times in my life.

 

God is Jeremy Lewisohn and Billy Meltzer and Marshall Rubin and Brian Rubin, Jewish tough guys, who looked out for me in school, at temple and at summer camp.

 

God is Matt and Bo and Fish and Jeff and Robert, some of my counselors at Jewish summer camp, and the Ticotskys and the Kampners and Mike Shepp and Bobby N. and Julian and Julian and Dave S. and Jordan and Eric and Bernard and Seth and Ken S. and Dave P. and other pals.

 

God is Gary Greenberg and the Greenberg family and Mrs. Albertine Taber and her family and Eric Finseth and Ian Finseth and Dr. Katie and Dr. Fred and Bernie Rodriguez and his family and Bob Fitzgerald and his sister, Karen, and their family and Dr. Harry Mark and Hailey Mark and other friends from childhood.

 

God is Eric Taitano, my running and workout buddy from Boston University Law School, who is an angel with the heart of a lion.

 

God is Eric’s whole family, his wife Colleen, an outstanding attorney, like Eric, loaded with strength and compassion; their children, Eric, Alianna and Alec; and Eric and Colleen’s sisters and brothers and parents.

 

God is Mark Pettit, my contracts professor at Boston University Law, who had a penchant for singing, self-deprecation and creativity and who could outrun just about all of his students.

 

He could certainly outrun me.

 

Professor Pettit also looked out for me.   He cared for all of us.  And, like my Barbara and so many of my angels, Professor Pettit was modest and brilliant.

 

I miss him.

 

God bless you, Professor Pettit!  You are a legal Muse!

 

When I think back on it, after having been brought into the House of the Lord, I realize that God has carefully planned every step of my life, every step of my schooling, every step of my work experience, every step of my career, every step of my writing, and every step of my romance, leading me to Barbara Bunny.

 

It is He, it is only He, Jesus Christ, who is the Author and Finisher of our Faith, which is to say every Faith.

 

For we are all One Faith under One God.  And that God is Jesus!

 

Jesus is the sweetest name, as Kirk Franklin and Rance Allen and Tasha Cobbs and Cece and Bebe Winans sing, music that Carolyn Whiley, one of my angels, has played for me.

 

I had never listened to Gospel, not that I can remember, until I met Carolyn.

 

I am convinced that I have known many angels before.

 

And I only met Carolyn in this lifetime, just as I only met Miss Bruney in junior high, just as I only met my Barbara at a UCLA writing class, because of the Lord, because of His Master Plan.

 

It was God and only God who decided that I would have my public school kindergarten class held in the basement of Mishkan Israel, a Reform synagogue, where I was abused by my kindergarten teacher.

 

It was God and only God who made sure that I would get through my teacher’s abuse, and He also planned that I would endure trauma for years, for decades, before I would start to heal.

 

It was God and only God, who decided that I would leave the Hamden public school system after 6th grade, after I had Mrs. Sylvia Burke, one of my best teachers ever, who was the first to speak of my promise as a writer.

 

It was God and only God, who set me up with Mrs. Toni Giamatti as my first adviser and English teacher at Hopkins, when I was in 7th grade.

 

And it was God and only God, who unspooled, like a reel of film, many of the angels, who encouraged and blessed me, like Mrs. Giamatti, as well as some of the devils, who would hurt me.

 

I had, of course, already encountered angels and devils prior to my time at Hopkins, which began in 1977.

 

But it was at Hopkins and later at Yale, where I met so many beautiful souls, who came to my rescue, under the Lord.

 

Like any institution, entity or person, for that matter, Yale is not monolithic.

 

By no means is Yale all good.

 

I met a number of people, who hurt me very badly, during my time at my alma mater.

 

Still, I am convinced that, had I studied at any other college, I would have fared far worse and would not have survived, without the Lord, who decided that I would go to Yale.

 

The Lord likes to show what He can do in the most awe-inspiring ways.

 

And what He can do is perform miracles that are “beyond spectacular,” as Shannon Whiley, Carolyn’s sister, has said so eloquently.

 

What Jesus can do, what God can do, cannot be foreseen or replicated or matched or counteracted by any mortal or angel.

 

The Lord is in charge.

 

It is only He who provides “signs and wonders to behold and perform,” as Mama and Carolyn say.

 

God is love, as my Barbara always said.

 

God is everything.

 

And God IS, as Mama and Carolyn always say.

 

God is a chess champion, beyond compare.

 

We cannot fathom the depth and complexities of God and His Master Plan.

 

God does work in mysterious ways, a theme of the Book of Job and the entire Bible.

 

It strikes me that many of the best people whom I have met or interviewed have been athletes, some of whom, like Richard Albero and Barry Lyons and Tom Parr, are friends of my buddy, Andrew Levy.

 

Like Tom S. and Paul, and Tom D. and Dick, they all have a sophisticated knowledge, earned through pain and even punishment, about what it takes to be successful, let alone to excel, in a demanding field.

 

Michael Jordan, Charles Barkley and Steff Curry; Derek Jeter, Rickey Henderson and Reggie Jackson; Wayne Gretzky and Mark Messier; Jimmy Connors and Ivan Lendl; Joe Montana and Roger Staubach; Serena and Venus Williams; Jackie Joyner Kersee and Chris Evert; Ray Mancini and Dave Paul, my boxing trainer — all of these people know what it is like to endure pain, to endure physically and spiritually taxing regimens in order to compete in the sports world and to thrive in that arena.

 

The same is true of many of the greatest artists.

 

Perhaps, it is because God has chosen for me to be a novelist as well as a journalist that I will focus on creative writers, in particular writers of fiction and song, like Norman Mailer and Bob Dylan, who have put in years, decades, of dedication and love, to produce some of the most beautiful art that we have read or heard in our lives.

 

Yes, God is Norman Mailer and Bob Dylan and Thornton Wilder and E.L. Doctorow and Pete Hamill and Toni Morrison and Emily Bronte and Amos Oz and Leslie Epstein and Leonard Cohen and Howard Schwartz and Rabbi Simeon and Rabbi Akiva and Moses de Leon and David and Bathsheba and Solomon and Sheba and Joseph and Asenath and Moses and Zipporah and Joshua and Elijah and Samuel and Judah and Jacob and Leah and Rachel and Isaac and Rebecca and Abraham and Sarah and Adam and Eve and Joseph and Mary and Jesus Himself, the Author and Finisher of our Faith, and so many of the other language artists, prophets and patriarchs of wonder, who have influenced me and enriched my life.

 

Like Jesus, God, the Son, God, the Heavenly Father, the Almighty, does not like it when people try to thwart the love at the heart of an artist, the love at the heart of a novelist, the love at the heart of a songwriter, the love at the heart of a prophet.

 

No, God does not like a bully, a punk, let alone a cabal of bullies and cowards, who gang up on an artist, a beautiful soul.

 

And God always brings light to the truth.

 

Light and truth.

 

That happens to be the motto of Yale.

 

And so I will return to Yale and to God’s Master Plan for me.

 

All is vanity here on this planet.

 

We are not defined by where we go or do not go to school.

 

We should yearn only for the heavens.

 

And we should only be good and modest, as Carolyn advised me.

 

There was no one better or more modest than Barbara, who is my lead angel, floating and fluttering in the ether and hovering over me with love.

 

God has got my back, and a little angel is looking out for me, as Carolyn told me.

 

That little angel is Barbara, and God has appointed many other angels to assist Him and to join Barbara.

 

These are some of the generations of angels in my life, sent to help me by the Lord Jesus Christ.

 

God is Greg Alegi, one of my closest friends from college, who transferred to Yale when I was a sophomore.

 

Along with his brother Danny, Greg prepped with me for a year at Hopkins, and he hosted me in Rome when I visited after graduation.

 

A scholar of history, literature and the Italian military, Greg is one of the most brilliant and extraordinary people whom I have met.

 

He can quote Latin from ancient texts, and he cites proverbs and Jewish wisdom with love.

 

I did not know Greg that well when I was at Hopkins, but we became good friends at Yale, where he surfaced as my lead angel in Saybrook College when I was a sophomore.

 

Greg was my best friend in Saybrook, my dormitory at Yale, and I hope to see Greg again, as well as his family, his mother and his brothers, Danny and Peter.

 

I have many other angels from my time at Hopkins and Yale, including Andrew Grant-Thomas, one of the best friends I have ever had, with whom I traveled in England after college, with whom I had many other adventures in New York, in Massachusetts, when Eric Robinson joined us on a road trip to MIT and Smith College, and elsewhere.

 

Andrew Grant-Thomas was one of my best friends at Hopkins, and I did not even know it, but we became much better friends at Yale, where we played basketball together and hung out.

 

Like Greg Alegi, Andrew is a brilliant man, a brilliant angel, and also, like Greg, Andrew transferred into Yale, when I was a sophomore.

 

This too was part of God’s Master Plan, to replenish me with a few friends in and outside of my dormitory.

 

Yes, God works in mysterious ways, and He is most spectacular, for, without Greg helping me in Saybrook College, without Andrew and Eric Robinson and some other Hopkins graduates, like Mike LaSpina and Scott McLaughlin, helping me when I was an undergraduate, I would have had a much harder time at Yale.

 

But there they were, along with Mrs. Giamatti and Bart Giamatti and Marcus and Elena and Paul Giamatti, the first family of Yale, aiding me.

 

And there was Mr. Kiphuth, my best friend and mentor during my time at Yale, who did more than anyone, under the Lord, to save me from being kicked out of the school when others lied about me.

 

I never did get a chance to say goodbye to Mr. Kiphuth, and this grieves me.  But Barbara let me know some time ago that Mr. Kiphuth is one of my greatest angels in the firmament, and that he too is looking out for me, as I move forward on this journey.

 

When I think of my Barbara, my greatest angel and soul mate, I can’t help but think of our wedding day.

 

My dad was my best man.

 

And Andrew Grant-Thomas, Bruce Evans, Eric Taitano and Igor Helekal were among the groomsmen and ushers.

 

Nothing is perfect in this world.

 

Only Jesus is perfect.

 

But there is no question that Barbara is the best thing that ever happened to me, and when I think of my wedding day, I will always think of the most beautiful time of my life.

 

I will think of how Igor and Zuzana, his wife, flew into Los Angeles from Prague in the Czech Republic to come to Barbara’s and my wedding.

 

One of my closest friends, Igor has exceptional quantitative gifts and a deep sense of honor.  I have not seen Igor and Zuzana and Igor’s family in years, and I miss them.

 

God bless you, Igor, and Zuzana and your mother and your whole family!

 

When I think of my wedding day, I will also think of some of Barbara’s and my friends from L.A., like Connie Monaghan, my first supervisor at L.A. Weekly, an angel with a quirky sense of humor.

 

Connie is a playwright and a comedienne, and Barbara and I had a lot of fun with her at the wedding, as we always did when we got together.

 

God bless you, Connie!

 

I will also think of Dave Paul, who is blessed by the Lord in so many ways.  Dave trained me with a deft touch in boxing, and he helped prepare me for adventures outside of the ring.

 

When I think of my wedding day, I also think of Dave’s wife, Kim, and their son, Junebug, dancing on the floor at the Ritz Carlton Huntington Hotel, and Brian Phelan, my boxing buddy, cheering Barbara and me on, as we gave our toasts.

 

All of these angels have put in rounds of love in the ring, rounds of love on the canvas.

 

There are other angels from that day, from that time in Barbara’s and my life together.

 

Kim and Tom Henning, friends and neighbors of Barbara’s for years, shared many special days with us and many special meals at Fresco Ristorante in Glendale and years later in Seattle.

 

Kim and Tom also share with Barbara and me a love for cats.  The Hennings are great people, and I miss them.

 

Lori Jordache, an angel whom Barbara met at a grief group before she met me, and Lori’s husband, Michael Roy, another angel with a sensitive soul, also came to our wedding, as we came to theirs.

 

Lori and Barbara had a very strong bond from those days, a bond of deep empathy and love.

 

Barbara and I used to meet Lori and Michael on occasion for dinner in Glendale.  And they came to some of our parties.

 

I hope to see Lori and Michael again.  They are wonderful souls.  And I miss them, too.

 

God bless you, Lori and Michael!

 

Donald Goebel, who met Barbara at a UCLA extension writing class before I did, also came to the wedding; and I remember some lovely times, lovely dinners, one on New Year’s, with Donald and his partner, Art, two kind men, two angels and artists, whom I also hope to see again.

 

It has been years since I have seen Donald and Art.

 

And I am very sorry that we fell out of touch.

 

God bless you, Donald and Art!

 

Toni Sowers was also at the wedding.

 

Like Barbara, Toni survived the depravity of the L.A. music scene of the 1970s and later, and she always retained her wit as well as her integrity.

 

Blessings to you, Toni!

 

And when I think of Barbara’s and my wedding, I also think of Howell and Linda Pinkston, two dear friends, whom I miss very much.

 

Howell and Linda were two of our best friends for years, with whom Barbara and I shared many laughs and good times.

 

We went to art openings and talks with Howell and Linda.

 

We met them frequently for dinner in Santa Monica, as well as in Malibu and Glendale.

 

We had many wonderful times together, lots of laughs and lively conversation.

 

I hope that they are both doing well, and I am sending them my love.

 

Blessings to you, Howell and Linda!  Blessings to Wally!

 

And here’s to the good times at Barbara’s and Howell’s 50th high school reunion.  Here’s to Mr. McAlpine and Charlie Barnett and Frank Doty and Al Sloan and other sweet classmates of Barbara’s and Howell’s, like Janet Dressel, whom I never met but who was kind to Barbara, and to all of Barbara’s teachers, who encouraged my Barbara to go to college!

 

God is every great teacher!

 

God is Mr. Dahl and Mr. Watkin and other principals and professors who mentored Barbara Bunny!

 

Other angels glide through the firmament, too, in other times and other plains.

 

God is Glenna Norris, a lover of cats and spirituality, gifted in voice and compassion, and the Holy Spirit.

 

Barbara and I met Glenna on Barbara’s birthday roughly a year after Barbara and I got married.

 

We had many good times with Glenna, and we look forward to seeing you in the future.

 

Blessings to you, Glenna!

 

God is Andrew and Magaliz and Cynthia and some of the other kind people in the UCLA extension writing class, where Barbara and I met.

 

You helped us, Andrew and Magaliz and Cynthia, with your thoughtfulness and your love.

 

God bless you!

 

God is Yaara Benbenishty, a soldier of light and truth and the best den mother in Israel, and Techiya Granot and Dave Trageser, my best roommate ever, and Herb Eisman and Dan Kaplan and Barry Raffensberg and my other buddies in Sar-El, young soldiers, like Abiram Schwartz.

 

God bless my Sar-El pals!

 

I recently attended my 40th reunion from high school.

 

At that reunion, I encountered many of my old friends.

 

I saw Andrew Levy, who has never stopped looking out for me over the decades, across time and space.

 

God bless you, Andrew, and Luisa and your mother and dad and your sisters and your whole family!

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