Update 2-11-14
Hi,
First, Happy Valentine's Day. Next, four links from South folks. Third, the ending to the New York Times article about Lee and Morty Kaufman. Finally, another piece of the long article about Jewish last names.
From Mary Sipp-Green: In addition to the Wally Findlay Gallery on 57th Street in New York City, for those who can't make it north, the Wally Findlay Gallery on Worth Avenue in Palm Beach usually had a good selection of my paintings. Also, my web-site is marysippgreen . com I hope to see many of you at the next reunion. (please remove the spaces in the link)
From Peter Rosen: I know that many of you are retired by now, but I am still working and love what I am doing. If you have a few minutes to spend, check out my revamped web site www . hrsas.com I would appreciate any comments. Can’t wait for the next reunion. (again please remove the spaces in the link)
From Emily Kleinman Schreiber: Two of my photos are in the 2014 Town of Hempstead calendar, and they used my favorite one on the cover of the tourism calendar for January. Check out this link:
www.toh . li/files/pdfs/rn_tourism-events01.pdf (once more, please remove the spaces)
And again from Andy Dolich, because this link might have gotten buried at the end last week: I do a bunch of video interviews for Bloomberg News. Go to bloomberg . com and then search on Dolich. (ditto about removing the spaces)
The end of the Times article about the Kaufmans:
Though the couple come across as lifelong companions, they married in their 40s, after their previous spouses died and left them with children. He had four; she was raising a son and daughter and was the reading teacher for his youngest son, Scott. They met at a school parent-teacher conference, Mr. Kaufman said. “The second time I went I said: ‘I didn’t come to discuss Scotty. Would you care to go out with me?’ ” he recalled. “From there it blossomed. We fit like gloves.”
Mrs. Kaufman smiled at hearing the lines again. “It’s exactly how he said. He remembers every word.”
Of their courtship, she added, “We had very strange date hours.” Mr. Kaufman explained that he owned a pharmacy in Brooklyn he had taken over from his father. It was open seven days a week, often late. Mrs. Kaufman said: “He was a man with four children, a store in Brooklyn and rotten hours. That was how we started.”
These days, they are asked as often about their relationship as they are about the Swiffer ads. People see them as oracles who hold the secret to a happy marriage. Ms. Allen, who is Mrs. Kaufman’s daughter (although the couple doesn’t differentiate between his and her children), said she has observed the way they readily compromise. “Each one at any given moment is willing to let the other one take the day,” she said. “I don’t think anyone has a vested interest in standing their ground.” Mrs. Kaufman noted they were both the youngest children in large families. “That teaches you how to get along,” she said.
Asked for his take on lasting romance, Mr. Kaufman said: “We’re in love with each other. That’s essential. You have to be compassionate, caring.” Then he turned to his wife and, almost embarrassed, said, “We’re revealing an awful lot about ourselves.” She cheered. “It’s an evaluation of our lives.”
When the two married, she moved into his ranch house and set about sprucing up the place and making room for their blended family. But where once the house was busy and a little cramped, it now seems calm and right-size for a nonagenarian couple. The living room, with its burnt-orange shag carpet and artwork from their world travels, has the decades-long constancy one associates with grandparents’ homes. The only nod to this century is Mr. Kaufman’s new recliner: He wore the old one out.
Much of their time is spent in his-and-hers dens. Mr. Kaufman’s is wood-paneled and crowded with a large collection of VHS tapes, while Mrs. Kaufman’s has jazzy wallpaper and lots of light and family photos on the walls. It’s noticeably tidier, too. She was always the house cleaner, she said, “Especially when the children were younger, tracking in dirt, the back door, the front door — all the kinds of things that go on in a household.” She added: “I like to live clean. I guess that’s really the bottom line.”
Mrs. Kaufman smiled at hearing the lines again. “It’s exactly how he said. He remembers every word.”
Of their courtship, she added, “We had very strange date hours.” Mr. Kaufman explained that he owned a pharmacy in Brooklyn he had taken over from his father. It was open seven days a week, often late. Mrs. Kaufman said: “He was a man with four children, a store in Brooklyn and rotten hours. That was how we started.”
These days, they are asked as often about their relationship as they are about the Swiffer ads. People see them as oracles who hold the secret to a happy marriage. Ms. Allen, who is Mrs. Kaufman’s daughter (although the couple doesn’t differentiate between his and her children), said she has observed the way they readily compromise. “Each one at any given moment is willing to let the other one take the day,” she said. “I don’t think anyone has a vested interest in standing their ground.” Mrs. Kaufman noted they were both the youngest children in large families. “That teaches you how to get along,” she said.
Asked for his take on lasting romance, Mr. Kaufman said: “We’re in love with each other. That’s essential. You have to be compassionate, caring.” Then he turned to his wife and, almost embarrassed, said, “We’re revealing an awful lot about ourselves.” She cheered. “It’s an evaluation of our lives.”
When the two married, she moved into his ranch house and set about sprucing up the place and making room for their blended family. But where once the house was busy and a little cramped, it now seems calm and right-size for a nonagenarian couple. The living room, with its burnt-orange shag carpet and artwork from their world travels, has the decades-long constancy one associates with grandparents’ homes. The only nod to this century is Mr. Kaufman’s new recliner: He wore the old one out.
Much of their time is spent in his-and-hers dens. Mr. Kaufman’s is wood-paneled and crowded with a large collection of VHS tapes, while Mrs. Kaufman’s has jazzy wallpaper and lots of light and family photos on the walls. It’s noticeably tidier, too. She was always the house cleaner, she said, “Especially when the children were younger, tracking in dirt, the back door, the front door — all the kinds of things that go on in a household.” She added: “I like to live clean. I guess that’s really the bottom line.”
Mr. Kaufman sounded philosophical about dust balls: “I can accept dirt.” He handles the laundry, as Mrs. Kaufman finds the washing machine with its many buttons confusing. For the deep cleaning, what she calls the “soap-and-water work,” the couple hires a cleaning person who comes every two weeks. Theirs is now a Swiffer household, of course.
Are there plans to appear in more commercials in the future? “Well, we’re waiting,” Mr. Kaufman said. Mrs. Kaufman said she would be happy either way. “I have nothing to complain about. We’ve had our day in the sun.”
He agreed. “How much more can we ask for? We’re overwhelmed by the nicety of it.”
She summed it up. “What an experience to come to you at this age.”
Are there plans to appear in more commercials in the future? “Well, we’re waiting,” Mr. Kaufman said. Mrs. Kaufman said she would be happy either way. “I have nothing to complain about. We’ve had our day in the sun.”
He agreed. “How much more can we ask for? We’re overwhelmed by the nicety of it.”
She summed it up. “What an experience to come to you at this age.”
And a bit more about Jewish last names:
The easiest way for Jews to assume an official last name was to adapt the name they already had, making it permanent. This explains the use of patronymics and matronymics.
Patronymics (son of ...) In Yiddish or German, "son" would be denoted by "son" or "sohn" or "er." In most Slavic languages, like Polish or Russian, it would be "wich" or "witz." For example: The son of Mendel took the last name Mendelsohn; the son of Abraham became Abramson or Avromovitch; the son of Menashe became Manishewitz; the son of Itzhak became Itskowitz; the son of Berl took the name Berliner; the son of Kesl took the name Kessler, etc.
Matronymics (daughter of …) Reflecting the prominence of Jewish women in business, some families made last names out of women's first names: Chaiken — son of Chaikeh; Edelman — husband of Edel; Gittelman — husband of Gitl; Glick or Gluck — may derive from Glickl, a popular woman's name as in the famous "Glickl of Hameln," whose memoirs, written around 1690, are an early example of Yiddish literature.
Gold/Goldman/Gulden may derived from Golda; Malkov from Malke; Perlman — husband of Perl; Rivken — may derive from Rivke; Soronsohn—son of Sarah.
Gold/Goldman/Gulden may derived from Golda; Malkov from Malke; Perlman — husband of Perl; Rivken — may derive from Rivke; Soronsohn—son of Sarah.
The class of '65 50th Reunion dates: April 24 through April 26, 2015
The South '65 e-mail addresses: reunionclass65 . blogspot . com (remove the spaces)
The South '65 photo site: picasaweb . google . com/SouthHS65 (ditto)
Rich
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