Jerry
Memories from 02-02-02
I was at my mother’s house in Longmeadow, Massachusetts. The previous day I had called Maggie, Dvorah, Micah and Yael to wish them a Shabbat Shalom, but as Shabbat started so early I was too late to call Avichai and Tani and asked Yael to please tell them that I called. I really felt pretty shitty about having not spoken to Avichai and Tani on Friday Morning and thought of that on Shabbat.
Shabbat passed quietly and pretty bored. I had decided to run at the JCC right after Shabbat when it opened at 6:00 p.m. and it was to cold to chance running so I passed the day doing nothing, a few words with my mom, a few repeats with my father, TV news, newspapers and afternoon visits from Tracy, Jenna, Lori and kids (they came to see Mama) as well as pop ins from Bern and Danny.
Sometime during the early afternoon (I think just about the time of Tani’s accident) I saw that the day was 02-02-02. It was clear on the TV screen and I turned to my Mother and said something like this is a date to remember or this type of date will not happen again for a long time or something big will happen on a date like this.
In any case I was bored and being always ready I decided to quietly pack my bag. I knew that I really shouldn’t pack on Shabbat but I always do pack early so I was virtually ready to go for my Sunday 2:00 p.m. flight to Kennedy. I had no plans for the evening, I had already seen everyone and as soon as Shabbat was out I went to the JCC to run. I can not remember why but I knew that I had only 1 hour for running on the treadmill which I did at the fastest pace I had done in a long time. I believe it was 9 kilometers during the hour. I showered very quickly and did not take advantage of the sauna and hurried home, I remember feeling rushed.
When I got home, I went immediately down stairs to put my running clothes in the washing machine. When I got upstairs my mother told me that Maggie had called and that I should call her back on Tani’s phone. This seemed immediately strange to me and I felt a glimmer of fear. I believe that by this time it was around 7:40 +/- 15 min. I quickly calculated that it was 2: 30 something in Israel, but Maggie had gone to Tel Aviv to the Opera with Peter and Toni and I figured that after the Opera they went to dinner before returning home which is always possible with Peter and Toni. I called Tani’s line but it appeared to be shut off. I asked my mom again when Maggie called and she told me about 15 minutes before I came home. I was wondering if I should call home. I did not want to wake Maggie, but I figured if she had called from her cell phone (Tani used Maggie’s phone) then she was then on her way home and that she would not be asleep so I called…. no answer. I now became scared not knowing where the problem was. I asked my mother again and this time she volunteered that Maggie sounded strange but did not tell her anything. I tried Tani’s phone again and got Maggie.
Maggie started in her very beautiful and polite way to tell me the story. I already could not wait for the bottom line, I was trembling, and I asked her to skip the details and tell me. I do not remember her exact words but I already knew. Micah then spoke to me and told me that I should get back as soon as possible. They had debated what to tell me–they knew I would be home the following afternoon anyway, but Micah gave me the bottom line to come.
In those next few minutes, I had to think what to do, how to get home. It was Saturday evening sometime after 8:00 p.m. My mother was very helpful, she did not break down –she worked with me. I was trying to get to El Al to see if there was a flight from Kennedy. I asked my mother to call Arie (who has a limo service and works with the family) to have someone ready to take me anywhere. My father came running in that he would get dressed and drive me to Boston (he has not driven in years). I called my brother David at his home in Simsbury, Connecticut and told him to come now with no questions. I than called Yoram, I had been with Yoram in Oklahoma City the previous week to raise money for the Inn of the Good Samaritan in Maale Adoumim along with Benny Kashriel, the city’s mayor. I believed that Yoram was very well connected due to his work in the United Nations and as all of El Al’s numbers were recordings with messages to call on Monday morning. I asked Yoram to find out if there was a flight and if so to stop the plane for me.
At the same time I told my mother to get Arie to come as soon as possible as I planned to drive to New York and get a plane from any of the 3 NYC airports back to Israel as quick as possible. Arie could not come but he had a driver ( Brian) who was in Palmer, Mass and would be there within 40 minutes.
I finished packing. I believe I talked again to Maggie and some of the kids, I do not remember but I already had a clear picture and to my great sorrow I had assumed the worst and at best that Tani would be in a vegetative state. I do not know why I was so pessimistic, but I would not have been called home unless it was the worst. David and Debbie came, my bags were outside waiting. David and Debbie did not have what to say, their eyes and faces showed their concern. I talked to my mother about the loss of all the men in our families– every one of my grandparents, uncles and aunts lost sons. I knew that my mother was already concerned how we would survive this. The clock was ticking slowly waiting for Brian to come. I guess that he came after 9 p.m. and maybe as late as 9:20 and we took off for New York with no idea of what to do.
After checking in with one of the kids always asking is he still alive? Is he still with us? I started working my telephone. I told Brian (who really understood the situation) to drive as fast as possible– that my family would take care of any problems. He started to drive at 80-90 miles per hour. Thank G-d it was Saturday night and the traffic was light. Brian got his son on the telephone and asked him to search the Internet for flights from New York City Airport to anywhere in Europe and on to Tel Aviv. I called Yoram again and he finally told me that there was an El Al flight from Kennedy at 11:50 p.m. It is generally at least a 3-hour drive to JFK. I asked him if he could hold the plane but I realized that he was not good for more than getting the flight information. I asked Brian to go faster. He was still on the phone with his son giving me other alternatives but all were for the next day. I was sitting in the back seat trying to rack my brain as to how to hold a plane when I did not even have a telephone number. All information given on numbers for El Al were recordings. I remember sitting slumped in the chair, I was totally concentrated on how to get home and than I remember Marsha. Marsha had helped me on a number of occasions with my children’s education and I had her number in my memory. My phone memory is very selective and I always edited out to my real phone book numbers that I do not need. I had Marsha’s and Marsha’s man is Amit. Amit is a pilot for El Al. It was 10:15 PM local time 5:15 AM in Jerusalem. I called Marsha, to ask if Amit could help me. Amit answered the phone. I told him what had happened and that I had to get on the 11:50 flight. Amit went into action. He had the direct numbers and he knew the person responsible for flights. He called me back immediately and told me that if we got to the airport by flight time that they would hold the plane. I asked him for all of El Al’s numbers. I wanted to call them myself to make sure that Amit had done the job. I also kept asking Brian: Where are we? How much longer to JFK? Brian kept saying that we could make it if we did not run into any traffic. I called El Al and told them the story, they knew and asked where I was, I called Dimitri from El Al Security directly and told him the story. I called back Amit to tell him what they said. I called Micah, Yael, Dvorah who ever I could get to ask. Is he still here?
We got to a bridge that had a minor traffic jam, I was panicking– could I get to the plane? I called El Al every 10 minutes or so and told them where we were. I called Amit to ask them to meet me at the door. Worse, El Al had moved to a new Terminal and I did not know where El Al was. Finally there it was –JFK and Brian rolled up to the front of this large new building at about 11:40 . He had gone a few doors too far. I saw the massive hall with many counters but only a few people about 50 meters ahead and to the right. I gave Brian one bag and ran with the other yelling El Al! El Al. A woman came towards us, they told me to come quick , but first I hugged and kissed Brian and told him that he would be blessed forever. They had to put me through security, very fast, they gave me a ticket, and I had to go through the electronic checkers. My pockets were full of many things. I threw them in a basket. The El Al girls took a bag and while we were running for the plane they were handing me back the things in my pockets. We reached the plane at 11:50 as they were going to close the doors. All the time I was also talking on the phone telling my mother that I had made it. Dimitri told me that I could not take my bags as they were not properly checked. I told him to keep them, that I did not care. He than threw them on the plane with me and the doors closed. I was brought back to my seat 54 B? which was next to the emergency exits and next to the bathrooms. I managed to call Afula to tell them that I was on the plane when I had to turn off the phone. The plane was taking off–it was just before midnight.
I was on the way but out of communication and I remember that some El Al planes had a phone up front and as I was about to ask I looked up at the TV screen in front of me and this 777 had a new service with a telephone in every seat. I called Afula immediately. I knew that I was being a bug but I had to know. I then called Mohammed. He answered the phone even though he never answers before 10 in the morning. He heard his cell phone ring and decided, out of the blue, to answer. I told him what had happened and asked him to be at Ben Gurion waiting for me to take me to Afula. I called Amit and told him I made it. I considered whether I should take enough sleeping pills to get sleep so that I could be physically in good shape when I arrived but I could not. I had to be in total control. I talked with the stewardesses who brought me water, I told the people in the seat next to me what had happened and I watched my clock. I figured that I would call every 30 minutes to one of the kids to know what was going on. I asked if they could find me a book of psalms or a sidur. The stewardess got and old and torn one from a man further up front. I started to try and read Psalms but the Hebrew was too hard. My mind was not a friend, I already was wondering about the time after Tani. I hate myself that I did not believe that Tani was going to make it. I felt like I was a cold person. I wanted to find something to help my panic. Psalms were not it, so I turned to the prayers I did know and could read. This was much better. I think I did most of shacharit or mussaf. It was something to do. I prayed that I was just an asshole and reached poor conclusions. I worried desperately about Maggie and how she was doing. I called and called and at one point I took a drink (one scotch) that I was offered. The lights were off in the plane, my eyes closed and I awoke an hour later in a fright as I had not been in contact.
As the plane was landing they brought me up front with my bags to be the first off. I thanked them all so very much for their kindness and they wished me the very best. It took a long time for them to open the doors. The ramp took between 5-10 minutes more time than it should have. I rushed from the bus with both bags running to be the first in line and than ran to the exit where Mohammed was waiting.
I got in the car and as I told him I started to cry. I called Afula, I talked to Maggie, they were waiting for me to come. It was rush hour and the traffic until Hadera was terrible. I talked on the phone and cried. Mohammed told me that I had to be strong when I got to Afula and that I had to stop crying. In any case the trip was at least 2 ½ hours with the traffic but I was in Israel, I was more optimistic. I figured that maybe with my luck in getting home in such a miraculous way that maybe this was a sign that everything would be ok. I was just panicked and anyway I always fell on my feet and we had great luck with our children. Why shouldn’t this be the case now? Mohammed encouraged me to be strong and positive. When we finally broke free of traffic and were almost in Afula I asked Mohammed to stop and get a coke so that I would be ready.
We got to Afula and everyone was waiting. I especially remember Maggie. She looked so good, how could things be bad. I do not remember going through the hospital but there I was next to the doors of the intensive care and Maggie had me wash my hands and I went to see Tani. He looked much better than I had expected although, I did not have those positive vibes, I could not stay with my personal feelings in the “its going to be Ok” mode but I had made it, I was with my family. I felt strong as a husband and a father and ready to go through what ever may happen.
I thank G-d that El Al gave me an extra day to be with Tani, that I was sent back in haste but safely to a strong family.
Letters to Tani from Jerry and Maggie
Letters to Tani from Jerry and Maggie to be read by him while in Poland, Sept, 2001.
Hi Tani,
What a change it must be to go from the dynamic world of the living to being faced with the silent world of the dead.
When I was about 10 years old the head of sports at the Jewish Community Center had a number on his arm. I had not noticed it at first and he was a great leader of the Center; strong and shoulders back in pride, all of us kids adored him. When I asked about the numbers on his arm, I learned for the first time from the protected walls of America, my first words on the Holocaust. Unfortunately we never were taught about it not in the Springfield Hebrew Day School and not in Public
Schools and not even in College. Yes, as I grew older, I became more aware of what had happened but it had no direct bearing on my life growing up in America. I was not the son of survivors as I was the 3rd generation with my Grandfather having arrived at age 2 to the USA. I knew about anti-Semitism, I had no idea of the depths that it could be carried.
It was really only my coming to Israel that I learned more. I was once very angry when I read a book called “ While 6,000,000 died” blaming everyone including the Americans and English for not having bombed and destroyed the Concentration Camps. I read Schindler’s List long before it became a Movie. We had Holocaust Day in Israel and I saw the movies, the pictures. Yad Vashem was the most impressing place to come as a 23 year old coming to Israel. Yael’s and Avichai’s trips to Poland also affected me.
So as you are seeing the evil deeds of the past, I came from a protected home to a dynamic country and my history by-passed the Holocaust. Yet I have one vision that remains in my mind constantly as I think about what happened in Europe. On a trip to South Africa in 1978, I visited a Jewish Museum at a Synagogue in Johannesburg. Outside was a wooden sculpture of a hand reaching out from the earth and I understood that Israel is the rebirth, Israel, while we must prevail in keeping her safe and secure, was G-d’s reward for our suffering and it may be said of those who walked to the gas chambers that the Psalm of David was with them.” Yea thou I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death I shall fear no evil for thou art with me”. How important it must have been for those who had “emunah” as they walked to their deaths. How many said “ Shema Yisrael”? How can we ever understand their pain and sorrow? Yet we and I mean Mommy and I and our family here have been given the greatest task of all: The rebuilding of the land of Israel on the ashes of The Holocaust and worldwide anti-Semitism. Based on the historical fact of our homeland given to us, as G-d’s chosen people to be a “mamlecet kohanim” and a light upon the nations, we will bring honor to the dead of our people.
You are the 4th generation after the Holocaust It is people like yourself that will lead it. I my hope is that while seeing the horrors and the tragedies of the past that you, Tani, will take in what you are seeing and feeling and use it to bring you faith and courage.
Shabbat Shalom,
Daddy
Maggie
Dearest Tani,
I hope this finds you in good spirits and that the trip this week hasn’t been too exhausting, I mean emotionally. You are a strong guy, but these experiences must have an effect, and I am awaiting your return to hear all and listen to you relate these difficult experiences.
Daddy has written you an incredible letter, I am so proud of him that he can relate to you his feelings, and personal experiences. I will tell you a bit about my own awareness as a new Jew and how the Holocaust came to be part of my life.
Like Daddy, I was never aware of the things that went on in the 2nd World War, the concentration camps were never talked about much, even though they were mentioned as just another terrible thing the Nazi’s did to other people. Jews were not even a part of this tragedy. This was the education I received. One day while I was in high school, Grandmother told me to read a book that would be very hard on me, but that I should read. That book was “Mila 18”, by Leon Uris, about the Warsaw Ghetto and the heroic Jews who lived in those black times. I couldn’t sleep afterwards, I hardly could read the pages, my eyes were so filled with tears.
Afterwards I went to college and met daddy, and he began to talk to me about anti-Semitism and how it still existed in America. It was so hard for me to accept, me being a recent convert to Judaism and not very happy about hearing all these bad things about the Christians, I always thought they were on the side of the Jews! I was so terribly naive, now I know the truth. No matter how hard it is to accept, I know now that the Jews are a people who dwell alone, we must, it is the only way to preserve our Jewish Identity. We live here in Israel to actually ensure that the Holocaust can never happen again, that the tragedy of the Warsaw Ghetto will never happen again, that moms like me will never have to see terrible events befall their children before their very eyes. Awareness of anti-Semitism, awareness of the Holocaust comes to people like me only after years, and truly only when Yael came back from Poland, did I grasp its meaning. Coincidentally, Grandmother was here when Yaeli returned, and she was as devastated if not more so than I.
I love you Tani, I can’t wait for you to come home already, and you haven’t even left!
I am so proud of the person you are, so strong and sure of yourself, such a patient son and a caring brother and uncle.
We all are proud of you, you represent all of us there walking in those terrible places. Take lots of pictures, I want to see them all.
Again, I love you,
Mommy
Written on October 15, 2002
On Feb. 2nd, 2002, I began the thoughts about the end of my life here. My youngest son, our little brother, Netanel Itzach ben Yaacov Ha Levi, was mortally injured in an accident involving so many missed opportunities for his possible survival that it seemed this tragedy was “meant to happen”. And what did that mean for the rest of us? Only that by serving G-d and believing in his oneness would our lives have any meaning again. I could see that death is only a new beginning in another realm, a realm that no one knows about but that many are certain does exist. I am and have become more so, one who believes. It has made my life here in this world more meaningful, much stranger and difficult, but one that I lead in order to live “The Tani Way”, as Yair Fink pointed out so beautifully in his “hesped”– eulogy for Tani.
Tani was born on November the 20th, on my oldest sister Sally’s birthday, 1984, at Hadassah Hospital. He was a bit jaundiced so the first time his older sisters and brothers saw him he was a little yellow peach in an incubator. I cried when we came home from the hospital, my milk wouldn’t “come down” so I had to give him bottles. Jerry, Tani’s dad, told me to stop feeding him with bottles, and take a drink myself. I did, my milk came down and Tani was happy, I was happy and we were one big wonderful happy family.
I was in awe that I was the mother of five children. Dvorah, Micah, Yael, Avichai and now Tani. Jerry was and is so proud of our amazing children which never cease to make us feel so worthwhile as people.
“Tani is such an easy kid”, we always said. He did have his struggles, which others will relate, but never wanted us to be involved, or troubled with his spiritual journey. Only once did we say “Please don’t”, when he wanted to leave his beloved school, Hartman High, and go to a more spiritual environment– out of town. He wanted the challenge of being put to the test, he wanted to help others less fortunate, “You have so much on your plate”, we told him. “Please stay home. You’ll be leaving soon enough, don’t leave any earlier than you must.” And Tani agreed. He stayed in Hartman school, with his dearest friends of which there are so very many, and traveled twice weekly, sometimes more, to Kfar Adoumim, a small community just outside of Jerusalem, to help run one of the scout troops there that was having trouble getting off the ground. Jerry and I would drive him many times, not wanting him to take the bus, with all the terror attacks, we couldn’t bear to even think of this possibility. Tani had no problem with us driving him on Saturday nights, and we spent time together in the car talking about his plans, his activities with the Bronfman Fellows which was preparing for the big trip to America in December. We talked about his army plans, after a year of study in Yeshiva, the decision of which he had not yet made. He talked some about his trip to Poland–to the destroyed Jewish Communities– with his class that September before the start of 12th grade. He told us that this trip made more of an impact on him as a Jew and as a person than any single thing yet in his life.
Tani was an incredibly accessible person. He said what he wanted, he let me tell him my feelings, he respected my worries about him, and my worries about my other children, his siblings, and he was always able to come up with ideas for me as a parent. “Don’t worry mom, I’ll talk to Micah”. Or, “don’t worry mom, I’ll call Avichai, he won’t know you are worried.” (Avichai is in a front line infantry unit.)
Bill Love, Maggie’s brother
Feb. 7th, 2002
Dear Margaret,
Sorry we haven’t connected via phone, but did want to pass on to you a
passage I just happened to read, & some thoughts it prompted in me.. It
resonated with me and, hoping it might do likewise with you, I am passing
it along.
It’s Dora Carrington’s reflections on the death of her dearest friend–&
one time lover–Lytton Strachey. Here it is :
“No one will ever know the special perfectness of Lytton. The jokes when
he was gay. ‘The queen of the East has vanished.’ I believe you eat my
nail scissors & then at lunch pretending to play a grand fugue before we
got up. And the jokes about the coffee never coming because I stayed so
long eating cheese. Sometimes I thought how wasteful to let those jokes
fly like swallows across the sky. But one mood of his instantly made me
feel in the same mood. All gone…. And now there is nobody, darling
Lytton, to make jokes with about Tiber & the horse of the ocean, no one
to read me Pope in the evenings, no one to walk on the terrace. No one
to write letters to, oh my very darling Lytton.
“….What point is there now in what I see every day, in conversations,
jokes, beautiful visions, pains, even nightmares? Who can I tell them
to, who will understand? One cannot find such another character as
Lytton & curious as it may seem to G.B. these friends that he talks of as
consolers & substitutes for Lytton cannot be the same, & it is exactly
what Lytton meant to me that matters.
“One cannot live on memories when the point of one’s whole life was the
interchange of love, ideas, & conversation.”
I thought this was so touching, Maggie, because I know the bond you had
with Tani. Not only you, of course, but so many others, but I’m thinking
of you, his Mother, in particular, at this time of grief. Because you
know about love. You know those consolers (like me) & their games. You
know, & all too well, that what you loved & now do not have is, as
Carrington says, a special perfectness, an exact, nonrepeatable thing
that could not be found again. There was a value & a knowledge that were
inseparable from the very particular relationship you had with Tani. To
try to recapture or replace that value or that knowledge would be as
futile as to go hunting for a joke after it has gone by.
So…consolers there will be & thank God for them! But all their
consolations cannot heal the wound you feel & will feel. I hope this
isn’t a counsel of despair–God knows I don’t intend it to be. Just to
assure you that your grief–and the grief of your whole family–belongs
to you, so don’t let anyone try to take it away. You’re entitled.
All my love, & God bless.
William
Mary Pat Love, Maggie’s sister-in-law
By Mary Pat Love, Maggie’s sister-in-law and mother of Greg Love, written on March 9, 2002
Dear Maggie and Jerry,
I just haven’t known what to say. Like everyone else, I have tried to find those magic words that would give you comfort and make it better. I know all too well, there are no magic words. So I will say I’m sorry, so truely sorry that you are in such pain. It is true what they say. This is the worst. Losing a child is unthinkable. I can still remember all of the wonderful people that tried to comfort me, that prayed for us, that tried to find those magic words. It does help to know that people care and I guess that’s all that I can do …just tell you how much I care and wish that you didn’t have to know such sorrow and emptiness. When I think of Tani, I think of angel’s. He was such an angelic child. I remember his beautiful, sweet smile.. I can’t imagine how much you miss him.
Maybe I can share some thoughts that helped me ( I have to tell you that I can hardly see my computer screen- through my tears)
I feel that my life didn’t begin until the day that Greg was born. I loved him so and remember thinking that what I most wanted for him was for him to be in heaven and that was the way that I would try to raise him- to be a good person, to love God, to be kind and loving. Whenever I find myself sinking into that deep black abyss (Yes it’s true after all these years it hasn’t gone away), I think- If I had a choice would I have him back with me here? I always answer no. That is the truth. He is in a better place. He will never know the pain of losing a child. The fear and pain are gone forever and I KNOW that he is in heaven…
I couldn’t just “get over it” and go on with my life without Greg…and I didn’t have to He is still so much a part of my life. The difference is that he is in my heart instead of in my arms. He will be forever three years old when I think of him and remember holding him, but when I talk to him (pray, if you will), I feel the presence of God.. I always get answers and a true peace. What I am trying to say is that you don’t have to leave Tani and go on with you life without him. He will be a huge part of your life always. It’s just that you will carry him with you in your heart. It is really a lovely peaceful feeling.
I am sorry for Dvorah, Micha, Yael and Avichai. You must be so proud of them. They are special and their faith is amazing. You have been good parents.
Children aren’t interchangeable and no one will ever take Tani’s place but you will be happy again- and you will feel joyous and peaceful when you think of him. I am so grateful for my faith. I know that God has his reasons and that is enough for me now.
You are in my thoughts and prayers,
Mary Pat
Jimmy Cohen, Jerry’s cousin
from Chicago
Feb, 2002
Dear Maggie and Jerry,
I wish I could express how very special we feel your family is. From the moment we walked into your home, we were so impressed by the love and closeness, the joy and humor, the warmth, the intellect and spirituality of your entire family. The comedy “show” that Avi Chai and Tani put on is still so fresh in our minds. We feel fortunate to have known Tani. He was obviously an outstanding young man. He so impressed Zak that Zak came home wanting to move to Israel. We are so sorry we did not have the privilege of knowing him better. I never received the information you e-mailed. My new e-mail is jamescohen@attbi.com
Our hearts thoughts and prayers are with you,
Love, Jim
Beth and Peter Mazer, Jerry’s niece
From Beth and Peter Mazer, Jerry’s niece and her husband
Dear Jerry,
We are thinking about all of you
Peter and I just wanted you to know that our prayers have been with all of you. We felt so helpless over here and wished we could have been with you. I am so glad dad and Adam got to spend time with you.
We are constantly thinking about all of you and send our love.
Beth, Peter, Jordan and Max
Kevin McCarthy -Tani’s cousin
Feb. 16, 2002
Dear Jerry and Maggie,
What a young man! No words could ever ease your pain and grief.
Cecile and I send our love and are constantly thinking of the Goodman
family.
Love,
Kevin and Cecile
Dear Jerry, Maggie, Dvorah, Micah, Yael and Avichai,
Received the copy of the eulogies and despite 15,000 miles the
emotional power was quite clear. Throughout our lives and travels we
come across people who stay with us make a lasting impression. We laugh
and smile thinking of their humor and we gain strength recalling their
character. I have done this many times with the Goodmans. Remembering
Tani only as an infant and then seeing him ten years older displaying
that inimitable Goodman vivacity, we knew he was the next spirited
creation of the clan. The “cousins” in Israel, your names always have
such a lyrical sound, Dvorah, Micah, Yael, Avichai, Netanel naturally
Jerry and Maggie presented somewhat different lyrics. The “cousins”
lives were followed with avid interest from the outposts of the world
Alaska, Hawaii and of course the strangest frontier– Oklahoma. Any
conversation with family in OKcity would be spiced with enquiries about
Israel and the “cousins”. Quite naturally the somewhat volatile nature
of your homeland would invoke serious concern this side of the world and
the invariable ” wouldn’t it be great to see the Goodmans here living in
the States, yea bring them on ” but of course the smell of the land the
soul of Israel the attachment to place ruled out that dream. We all
want to see the Goodmans more often, we lived through their adventures,
applauded their enterprise, many of us enjoyed their grace and
hospitality and now we will mourn with them. Cecile looked at me and I
knew something terrible had happened. After finding out more the worst
was confirmed, the tragedies of the world had hit home. ” What an
amazing young man,” that was my mother’s reaction when I sent her the Jerusalem
Post article. What did you expect from the Goodmans?
I want to be there with your family to show the love and support.
These distances are draining when contact is needed. Once again the
compassion and love resulting from Netanel’s death will not only provide
friends and family with a sea of strength to draw upon but Israel and
the world has witnessed the immeasurable gifts of life that Netanel
provided.
Remain in the light.
Kevin
April 1, 2002 from Kevin
Jerry, Maggie, Micah, Devorah, Yaelle,Avi-chai and Netanel (He will
always be addressed with the Goodmans),
Even in this iced in corner of the world we follow the Middle East
with the rest of the world. It must seem as if your world has become
crazy with all the grief and suffering your family and nation has
suffered in the past months…we are with you.
Good luck and God bless.
Alaska (Kevin)
Bill and Leslie Gardiner, Maggie’s nephew and niece
Feb. 4, 2002
Dearest Maggie and Jerry,
Leslie and I love you and your family so much and we just can not believe this is happening.
We are thinking of you, and are praying hard, and we will talk to you soon.
Love,
Bill
From Bill and Leslie Gardiner,
Nov 20, 2002
Hi Maggie and Jerry,
Leslie and I are thinking of all of you guys today, and we miss you and love you very much. I wish we could see each other and not be so far away. I’m so happy that you all have so many good friends and family.
When I was little a friend of mine and Sara’s drown in a neighbor’s backyard pool. I was devastated and just couldn’t believe that this had happened, and that she was with me one minute and then gone the next. I remember asking my mom and dad over and over why? and how could this be? And I remember my dad telling me something that always stayed with me. Frank told me that if you think of our lives as a glass of water, some glasses are taller than other glasses, but what really counts is that the glass is full. He told me that although Jane’s glass was small, that it was full.
I didn’t know your son that well, but I love him, and I miss him, and I know that his life was full. Leslie and I admire you guys so much, and are so proud of you.
Love,
Bill
Barbie Love Teaman, Tani’s cousin
Feb. 13, 2002
Dear Maggie and Jerry,
I sent a card this past weekend, but I just have to tell you now that I have not stopped thinking of you, of all of you, since the tragedy… I just pray and pray that somehow you might be comforted, somehow that G-d can ease your tremendous pain and suffering….
I can’t begin to express my sorrow at this news… I read the article about how Tani’s organs saved 4 other people, what a beautiful, beautiful and incredibly difficult decision, what an amazing gift.
I love you all so much… Ed and I are thinking of you, praying for you, and sending our love every day…
Barbie
Sue Gardiner, Maggie’s niece
Tuesday, Feb. 12, 2002
Dear Everyone
We want to send you our love…
There are no words to describe what we are all feeling for you there. Please know that you are in our thoughts, and prayers. Although we are separated by thousands of miles, our love keeps us connected and close. We are weeping with you…
We love you all,
Sue, Samuel, Sophia and Rose
Father Jack Vessels, Maggie’s Uncle
GOODMAN GANG!
Just talked with Billy. He said it all: ‘Tani, the perfect kid, will always be just that!’ Now, perfect in every way, he’ll forever be the way we remember him. IS, not was — totally & uniquely one with I AM. And we’ll all know it – he’ll see to that! Sure glad I got to know him last year in O.C. the way he forever is.
Couldn’t help thinking these last few days about another Jewish mother watching her son die. Better than he did, she knew the end had come; but knew as well it wasn’t the end but the real beginning, & she was ready for the role he would expect her to play affer he reentered his own unique I AM. His father,too, from a different perspective, knew his.
God love you, each & family. Tani lives; in our hearts, where WE ARE.
JACK V
Nancy Posnick
Feb. 27,2002
Dearest Maggie and Jerry, Devorah, Micha and Tzipi, Yaeli and Avichai,
I finally have had the time to sit and read the eulogies that you sent….I
have cried and I have smiled and I have read these amazing words which have
helped me to know and understand the essence of dearly beloved Tani.
I keep re-reading each and everyone….as each captures just another bit of
Tani…..his love for God and his belief in the importance of his
relationship to God. His love for his family and all your love for him….
his love for his friends and teachers….I have learned so much about him.
What a wonderful young man who was so wise for his time.
I loved reading about his sweet smile and how he is remembered for it and how
it affected all those around him.
OH God, my dear friends, your strength is remarkable and I am convinced that
your grief and pain are greatly aided by your own relationship with God,
however each of you connects to God.
I am so glad that you had the opprotunity to have those few precious days
with Tani in the hospital…it seems it meant alot to all of you to be able
to tell him how much you loved him and to allow him the same…..to reaffirm
your love for God with him and allow him to go to God in peace.
He is your angel now…..and he is with God and he will be safe and
protected. And his strength will help all of you to find your strengths.
Since my mom died and after watching her suffer for almost a year, I wondered
how I would get the bad memories out of my conscious thoughts. It is slowly
getting better with time. And the most beautiful thing that has occurred is
the knowledge that she is deep within my heart and inside my body and is part
of my soul. And there are days when something happens and I feel her very
strongly in me and know that she is guiding me along.
That is what I believe is her soul.
I am sure that you will all feel Tani is your own ways….but he is inside
all of your hearts and inside your bodies..his neshama is your neshama and
that to me is so comforting.
I think of you constantly and pray for all of you and wish I could be nearer
to you – selfishly to help me as well. Doing for you is part of my healing
as well -so it is hard to be so far away. Please know I am here to talk and
be there for you in any way that I can.
I love you so much. It is so hard to find words of comfort. But I hope that
the knowledge that I love you and am with you with all my spirit is of some
comfort.
We will be in touch. Until then, strength and peace to you all in this most
difficult time.
I love you
Nancy
Todd Stock
From Todd Stock, in New York, former classmate of Tani’s who came from New York for Tani’s funeral in February.
Dear Goodman Family,
Words cannot capture who Tani was or what he meant to me, but in this short letter I hope I can convey some of what I saw and felt.
The few short years that I lived in Jerusalem were the best of my life, many of my fondest memories were shared with Tani. I loved Tani with all my heart and I will never forget him. Tani had the most beautiful, kindest personalities of any person that I have ever encountered, I will never be able to thank Tani for all of the wonderful things he did for me. When I moved to Israel, I did not know many people, I was a stranger in a new country.
Tani quickly befriended me and saw to it that I was involved in all of the activities of a typical teenage Israeli. I remember when I was ambivalent about getting involved in the scouts, Tani would take me with him and make sure that everybody knew who I was and that I was his friend. Once I had Tani’s “stamp of approval”, it was smooth sailing. In such a short while Tani made me feel that Israel was my home. I was proud to be a Jew in my own land.
As Tani and I became better friends, I saw so many wonderful things that made up the essence of Tani. Tani had this inquisitive and concerned stare, when I spoke with him I felt as though he was looking straight into my heart. Tani always put the needs of others before his own. Tani exuded brilliant confidence that allowed him to captivate any individual, or an entire audience. Tani was so kind, he was incapable of doing anything out of malice; he always defended his friends and family vehemently. Any person who met Tani instantly saw what a remarkable young man he was.
Tani had so much faith in G-d; he was the kind of Jew that I strive to be. It was great watching Tani in action. He loved talking to people about why he was a religious Jew and what that meant to him, he wanted people to see the beauty that he saw in Judaism. Tani was a credit to his people, he was the kind of Jew that made us see the good in things. I will always love Tani for the person that he was. Tani was in so many ways my hero.
Finding out that we lost Tani, was the saddest day in my life. There was so much more I wanted to tell him, I would like to give him a big hug like every time I came to visit. I still cannot believe that I will never be able to look into his beautiful blue eyes again, but I know that the image will stay vivid in my imagination, as will all of my memories with Tani.
I ask myself many questions that will never be answered, I know nothing can take away the pain of losing T ani but I am certain of one thing. Tani is in good company with the greatest Tzadikim of humankind, sitting in a chair next to the throne.
Friday April 26, 2002
Hi Maggie and Jerry,
I just wanted to say hi and let you guys know that I am thinking about you. I know that tomorrow is the unveiling of Tani’s stone. I wanted to call today but I got home too late from school. I had a really funny dream about Tani a couple of weeks ago, I cannot remember all the details but it had something to do with clothing and the funny shirts we both had. I think about Tani all the time and remember all of the good times we had. It is still really hard for me (as it is for every one) to accept that I am not going to see him in person anymore.
How is everyone in your family doing? The situation in Israel was pretty crazy for a while. Im sure Avichai has been involved in whats going on, how is he doing? We had a huge rally in DC that I’m sure you heard about there were over 200,000 people many of whom were not Jewish. It was amazing to see so many people gathering together in support of Israel.
Everything in NYC is pretty much the same. I end school in about a month and in a few weeks I will find out where I will be going to school next year.
You mentioned in your last email that Robby Berman got in contact with you and that he would use some pictures of Tani. I’m glad he got in touch with you, it will no doubt be positive to his campaign. When he first spoke with me in shul he sounded eager to talk to you, he called me that Motzei Shabbat and I gave him your number.
I told you about my Mom. Everything with her is pretty much “status quo.” She just had some tests done and we will get the results in a few days. She switched hospitals to U. Penn medical center because it has a shorter wait. Hopefully she will have the transplants within the next month.
I guess that’s about it for now. Have a Shabbat Shalom and say hi to your family for me. I look forward to hearing from you
Todd
PS I look forward to getting those pictures of Tani 🙂
Elihai Braun
Feb. 8, 2002
Lost in too many words that will not materialize, I appealed to poetic
syntax, but I lacked that also. Tani, you’re beautiful, perhaps majestic,
and I… cannot compare. But even a foolish man occasionally produces a
wise word – and with this thought in mind – I offer my wise words of
foolishness.
You’re captured in nostalgic images that pass and float over me like the
counted passing sheep that keep me awake. I cannot help but think that
you were a just a lamb, prematurely sacrificed on an unknown alter, and
for what? Oh, the anger mixes with the mystery; the three letter word
makes its due appearance, why? AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUAauauauauufljkxza;!!!!!1
Words, however sincere, cannot mend the pits of life, nor can they serve
justice to this man that inspired blessing in all our lives. Foolish as
they are – all foolishness! How can there ever be greatness or anything
under the sun if our Tanis-?!?!? God!?!
Accusations won’t get me anywhere. These pits of life, I guess, are on
some road that lead us somewhere. I just wish I knew where I was going.
With a finger pointed up, and a tear rolling down,
Elihai
More from Elihai
Dear Maggie, Jerry, Dvorah, Anael, Micah, Zippy, Yaeli, and Avichai,
Thank you for writing; all words are comfort in the face of death. Your
generosity parallels Tani’s; thank you hosting me that memorable weekend,
thank you for Tani and all he means to everyone. I’m sitting here late at
my computer – What do I tell the grieving family of such a magnificent
friend?? Geez, what response can possibly match and capture the joy that
Tani expressed and the light he radiated. The instinct to remember is a
painful one, a bittersweet tale of laughter and love, bringing that brief
smile to my face, unfolding from ear to ear until broken by a falling tear
that crosses the wide expanse of that smile. I shake my head and begin
anew: another memory, another smile, another tear.
Tani was a wonderful person.
I want to share some of the memories that have crossed my mind since
Tani’s death; some were immediate reactions, some took weeks to appear,
some are excerpts from the journal I kept during the summer. This
endeavor is not an easy one for me, or for anybody – never, ever, have I
felt such a profound sadness, such an immeasurable grief.
The first day of the Mifgash, we shared a lunch with the Amitim (and with
Charles Bronfman) where I sat at a table with Tani and Ariel, among
others. Wishing to impress these sparkling young men with the limited
Hebrew I had acquired during my previous summers at a Jewish summer camp,
I said, Na-la-ha-veir et ha-tapuz, b’vakashah, asking for the juice. Tani
and Ariel roared with laughter; I sat, wondering how my request for the
juice had produced such a response. They said, between giggles, “You just
asked us to please, graciously, kindly, pleasantly, pass the juice.”
“Then how do ask?” “Like this.” One pointed a finger, snapped, and the
other tossed the item to him. All laughed, I laughed. Nobody could
establish such an open, free, and friendly environment as Tani and his
friends could. To a nervous American, this beginning could not be more
appreciated. I wrote in my journal that night, “We met the Amitim
today… We mingled on a group level. At lunch with Charles Bronfman –
Uncle Charlie – whichever, I spoke quite extensively with Ariel and Tani,
both amazing people – people with whom I hope to keep in touch…”
(Monday, July 16, 2001).
This response to Har Herzl speaks for itself:
Sunday, July 22, 2001 8:51 pm
Okay, Har Herzl. Friday morning, the Amitim and the Fellows split into
smaller groups, and we were guided individually through the graves.
Esther was my guide. After wandering through the rows of fallen soldiers,
Esther and I stopped beside the grave of a nineteen year old boy who had
died shortly after the Yom Kippur War began – the second day actually. We
talked. I saw how it hurt her, to be there… to think about those young
countrymen who had perished needlessly because a land-hungry general in
some neighboring nation determined that Israel – that the Jewish State –
did not have the right to exist…
We then reconvened to gather by the grave of Yitzhak Rabin…
The sixteen or seventeen of us mixed Amitim and Fellows circled up, the
Israelis began singing a mournful song – they all sang, one by one they
joined, instinctively, they stared, straight, lips moving without control,
not loud or boisterous, no! quiet! – with the song of the soul of another
generation lost in war and hate, blood, and an uncertain future.
I walked to Tani when exiting the cemetery; I put my arm around his waist
remember sometimes we just need a hug – the hugger and the huggee.
“How do you feel, Tani?”
“Two things,” he said, “absolute sadness and absolute pride.”
[long pause, walking]
“What was his name?”
“Whose name?”
“The soldier you sat next to…”
I didn’t know – God I wish I knew. Tani nodded anyway.
Amazing – what an intimate community – his name? He died for the country
– to Tani, he was a brother – he seemed a best friend. Pride.
Sunday, July 22, 2001 11:02 pm still Sunday night
I had a spectacular Shabbos with the Amitim – we were all paired – Noam
and I stayed with Tani. It was one of those days when the meals seem to
run into each other – Birkot Hamazon leading into the next Ha-motzi. Tani
is – I want to say amazing [underlined] – but I know in retrospect that
this word will mean little – nevertheless I still use it frequently. 🙂
Tani is everything I could want in a person – compassionate towards all,
determined and committed to his beliefs, an easy going dude always ready
for a laugh, and yet still ready for a demanding theological discussion at
early hours of the morning. I shall say: Amazing.
I’m glad that I wrote what I wrote during the summer. I do not possess
the mental energy to have done it now – Yes, this old journal broadens the
so tearful smile; it makes me happy. I’m even happier, though, that I had
something to write about. Tani has shaped me – I am a different person, a
better person, because your son, your brother, your brother-in-law, your
uncle, our friend, made it so. Your gift of Tani’s organs was another
smile in this salty sea. Thank you, thank you.
I share your grief with unbounded emotion; I – I may never comprehend the
magnitude of your bereavement, but know that this loss has NOT passed
unmarked, that I will remember him all my life, with you, with all of us.
May God comfort you among the mourners of Zion, may you no longer know
pain and tears – ever, may happiness and tranquility overcome the sorrow,
may your house be, forevermore, blessed.
Elihai
— Maggie Goodman wrote:
Dearest Elihai,
I have just read the beautiful words of love for Tani, and I want you to
know that he loved you very much. Words do litttle to comfort, but that
is all I can do from so far away. I have sent to Liz Shrier lots of things
and pictures about Tani, please be in touch with her and she can make
copies and send to you.
Tani was and is a beautiful being. He is still so close to us, as are all
of the Bronfman Fellows from near and far. Please keep us and him in your
prayers. We will never forget the wonderful times Tani had with all of
you, and that very special time in Israel with us. We also just saw on
Thursday night in Ranana a video of you all in the States…it was GADOL!!
Keep on DOING with all your heart everything that you love to do, and need
to do. That way Tani will be so happy.
We love you,
Maggie, Tani’s mom, and all the Goodmans…Jerry(dad) Dvorah (big sis )
Anael (neice) Micah(big brother) Zippy(sis-in-law), Yaeli (big sister) and
Avichai (big brother…now in the army) Have a happy Pesach
Liz Shrier, good friend
Liz Shrier, good friend from LA, a Bronfman Fellow, 2001
The Pink Panther
The Y.U.L.A. Girls’ School Newspaper Vol. 12 No. 3
(Yeshiva University Los Angeles) February 2002
Out! Out! Brief Candle
by LIZABETH SHRIER
I’m not sure if I have the courage to write this, to express my most deep and intimate feelings on paper…but in honor of him, I’ll suck it up. This past Thursday, I lost a most dear friend. A friend who lived 10,000 miles away, but who always seemed to be sitting right by my side. He consumed my thoughts, and was the topic of so many wonderful conversations…and even though he is gone, I will carry a piece of him forever. In actuality, the world really lost a friend this week.
Never have I met an individual so passionate, so devoted, so completely in love with the Jewish people and Eretz Yisrael. I mourn his loss not only because I can no longer speak with him again, but I mourn also for each person who never had the honor of being greeted by his warm smile, and those who never will. I learned so much from him…he was a lover of people, an advocate of justice, and had the strongest passion for life. To him, life was one big opportunity, a chance to spread joy and a love of goodness around the world.
His main goal in life was to become a Tzaddik, what he defined as a person who brings others closer to G-d through love. Everyone who knew him felt as though he had already accomplished his goal-he was only 17. Two weeks ago he had his meeting with the Israeli army office. His profile was perfect. He was so excited. He could not wait to begin his service, to serve the country that meant all the world to him. He wanted to die fighting, to die fighting for his people and his land. In retrospect, it all seems quite ironic—his perfection, his intense excitement to protect others. If only someone had protected him…he desperately needed protection that night.
He spent his last week of life visiting Yeshivot and lying in a coma. In a way I am happy that he was not aware of his condition: happy that he was not able to realize the severity of his injury. Why? Because he would have spent the time worrying about all of us…worrying that we were spending too much time crying, wasting too much energy on him. He would have been miserable. At least he passed happy and at ease, knowing how much I, and all his friends cared about him. And at least he does not need to see Israel in strife any more; it pained him more than anyone. I cry myself to sleep each night, and during the day I try to hold back the tears. I’ve had a hard time praying, a hard time thanking G-d for all the wonderful miracles he performs in this world.
When I was in shul this past Shabbat, my Rabbi said, “We need to thank Hashem, especially for this week, because it was a week full of miracles in Israel”(referring to the stopping of a few suicide bombers). I know that to the greater community his statement was accurate, but to me, it was a dagger.
Would one more miracle have hurt, why weren’t my prayers answered? I have a thousand questions bombarding me simultaneously, and I could stop believing. I could end my faith right now! But I won’t, because I know that it transcends me, and I know that Tani would have believed right now…he always had faith, always realized that not all the answers were here on earth, but somewhere there was a larger picture; a larger force managing a world which without it would be random and senseless. I have faith in Tani, and so I have a greater faith in G-d. I will forever be changed. I will forever remember this presence that entered my life, altered my perspective, and filled my thoughts with hope.
I will always hold a piece of his passion, his love for the Jewish people and his pride in his heritage. His name was Netanel-G-d gave: and that is exactly the way we all felt about him…he was our gift.
“An unbelievable phone call”
10-2-02
Dear Amitim and Bronfmanim,
An hour ago, I recieved a phone call from Tani’s father. I was shocked that
he called, but so pleased since I’ve been meaning to call his parents, but
have been too uncomfortable. His dad wanted me to know a couple of things
that I think each one of you should know as well: He told me that Tani was
NOT in any pain, that he WASN’T afraid, and that HE VERY MUCH BELIEVED IN
G-D. I couldn’t cry on the phone with him because I was too relieved. I
have been waiting to hear those comforting thoughts…I took a deep breath.
Tani’s Dad was so upbeat, so refreshing..he told ME at the end of the
conversation to “BE STRONG”. I spoke to Jonathan earlier, and we both have
the same thought: iT’S hard to question the situation and not believe,
when Tani’s family so obviously does. They have given me a tremendous sense
of comfort.
I cannot wait to be in Israel next year and see all of you Amitim, and
share stories about Tani. He has been a huge inspiration to me, and I know
that has been the case with basically everyone.
Keep in touch..I love talking about HIM.
BE WELL
LOVE YOU,
LIZ
And more from Liz: From March 21, 2002
Dearest Goodman Mishpaca,
I want to thank you from the deepest depths of my soul for sending me the
writings, and for speaking to me Wednesday morning. Each time I speak to
you, my heart is filled with intense happiness and I am so fulfilled. Your
optimism, strength and warmth illuminate my day and provide me with “koach”
until the next time we speak.
Micah’s short story gave me goosebumps, and the eulogy by Tani’s principal
captured something tremendous about tanoosh (what i called him–kinda
funny). It is very obvious to me the incredible family you have, even though
I only met one member. Micah gave me so much hope and filled me with
tremendous warmth…as I read the story, I honestly felt as though Tani
himself was talking: Micah has the power of words, even the translation
conveyed it.
I wish you a most wonderful and meaningful Chag. The closeness of your
family, and the kiddush hashem each one of you makes, should give you
strength and encouragement. May we all be in Eretz Israel next Pesach to
experience the ultimate redemption. Even me after I convince
my parents.
with much love and gratitude,
Liz
Adam Schwartz Tani’s friend
From Adam Schwartz Tani’s friend in the Bronfman Fellows
February 7, 2002
I only wish that my first e-mail to this list could be
under happier circumstances, but in light of Tani
Goodman’s tragic passing, I see no alternative.
I guess I should preface all of this by saying that I
know very little about the subject of death. I was,
however, lucky enough to get to know Tani. These are
my thoughts on him and his life.
It’s strange. The odds are that I probably never would
have seen Tani again anyway– I don’t know when I will
next be in Israel or if Tani ever planned to return to
the United States. And yet, right now I feel this
terrible grief traveling through my body in the form
of a numbness that clouds my thoughts and weighs on my
heart. Why? Because the loss of Tani does not affect
only me; far from it. I couldn’t imagine someone
knowing him and not taking an instant liking to him.
He was a warm person always armed with a smile. He
could discuss religious philosophy and play a hell of
a snowball fight. Rarely does a name describe someone
so accurately: Tani was truly a good man.
This is not uniquely my loss, or our loss, or even
only the loss of those who knew Tani. This is the loss
of everyone who ever would have known him. If Tani was
to be a rabbi, this is his future congregation’s loss.
If Tani was to be a member of the K’Nesset, this is
Israel’s loss. This is, simply, the loss of the world.
People like Tani are rare and we are lucky to have
known him.
I have asked myself countless times, “why did this
happen?” I have come to the conclusion of no
conclusion, a resounding answer of “I don’t know.”
I’ve read the Book of Job and I also know that
sometimes things just happen, good or bad. Can bad
things happen to good people? Yes, and sadly I can say
that with assurance. Many will question their belief
in God after a tragedy like this. Is there a greater
plan? Was this part of that plan? Maybe. I can’t
really say if knowing the answer to that would make me
feel any better. Is there is a Heaven and is there is
a Hell? I don’t know (though I could never believe
that Tani could end up in the ladder).
“I don’t know.” I seem to being saying that a lot. I
guess that’s because there are so many unanswered
questions that I have and that I am sure you all have.
Is there logic in searching for logic? Where does this
leave us? Where does this leave Tani? I don’t know, I
don’t know, I don’t know.
There are some things that I do know. I know Tani
Goodman was a great human being with so much to offer
so many people. I know that he left us too early, far
too early, and that will forever be our loss.
I also know that life is short. It is a clichi, but it
holds creedence. As I sat in calculus today, a class
that normally angers, frustrates, and depresses me, I
thought little of limits or derivatives or integrals.
I thought about Tani, and the Amitim, and the Fellows,
about his family and friends, about myself, and about
the world surrounding us.
We are all lucky in some way and we all have something
to be happy about. That does not mean we should not
cry for Tani. What happened was terrible. But let us
also remember that we are lucky enough to be alive,
and that, at least is something. It is scary to think
that it could all end at any moment, but at least
then, something like calculus doesn’t seem so
important. We should cry for Tani’s death, but don’t
forget to smile for his life. His life was short, but
that does not mean he didn’t do great things. I invite
those of you who know Tani better than I to share
stories about him so we can all learn more about him.
A funeral may be a mourning of a death, but it should
also be a celebration of life.
As for me, I am caught somewhere in between believing
my own words and thinking that I am an idiot. It is
hard to try and smile right now. But one last thing
that I do know is that I am alive. And, as long as I
have that blessing, I will try to appreciate it. I
urge you all to do the same. Tani was not lucky enough
to live a full life, and nobody knows what our futures
hold. We have today. Today is a great day to do
something great.
I was lucky enough to know Tani. I was not lucky
enough to get to know him better. I loved him though,
as I love all of you. If anyone feels that they need
guidance or advice, please call me. I doubt that I
will be able to provide either of those, but at least
we will be able to talk. Take care.
Much love,
Adam Schwartz
P.S. I would like to leave you all with a short story
about Tani. As we said our goodbye’s at the end of the
mifgash, Tani and I hugged. During this farewell he
kept telling me that if I was ever in Jerusalem to
give him a call. He said something to the effect of
“The time doesn’t matter. Even if it is three in the
morning, give me a call.” That was Tani. I knew that,
even at three in the morning, I had a friend. I had a
great friend.
Naomi Hart
February 3, 2002
Dearest Tani,
I love you and you are a dear friend. The Americans are praying for you.
Please remember that G-d is here, that we love you, and that most of all,
you are special. Just like you told me I am and I’m sure others.
I think that anything you see in other people, you have the potential for in yourself also.
I love you
remember that
Natanel ben Miriam
Naomi
Elizabeth Ochs
February 5th, 2002
To the Israelis: I just want you to know that the fellows are thinking of all of you, and especially of Tani. We send you support and strength and truly believe that Tani is going to make it. I was speaking to Noam tonight and we agreed that Tani is just too strong of a person and has to much to do in his life than let this keep him from it. I really cannot fathom dealing with everything that you deal with in Israel…and now this…Please know that our thoughts are with you.
Much love, a refuah shelemah, and bircat shalom,
elizabeth o.
Dan Jacobson
Bronfman 1987
You do not know who we are although we discovered a lot of connections
when Tani spent shabbos with us this past chanukah (my wife’s family is
close with Mendel and Betsy Shapiro, and and I lived in Alroi and Pinsker
during my father’s sabbaticals). I am an American Bronfman alum, and we
hosted tani and his fellow Amit, Yaniv. I felt both driven and hesitant
about writing you. We lost a daughter in an accident almost two years
ago. While every situation is totally different, my wife and I certainly
were more or less amenable to receiving mail at different junctures
during aveilut. I hesitate because there’s nothing that I can really
say, especially having spent only 25 hours with tani. That said, perhaps
you will appreciate hearing that Tani left his mark not only in Israel
but also in America (whence you hail, if I recall correctly). We were
not only impressed by Tani’s intellectual curiosity and fullness of
living, but also very much encouraged. As people who are planning,
beezrat Hashem, to make aliyah. It was strengthening to see such a
beautiful product of Israeli upbringing. We had a tish/oneg that
shabbos, and Tani managed to connect with all of our shul members who
came over. I’m sure that people have spoken of the incredible potential
that Tani had, but he was most certainly not just waiting to grow into
himself; he had an impact even on those who met him so briefly.
I don’t know how you’ve all been reacting to your loss, but I’ll briefly
share the experience that wife and I have had, in case it’s of any help.
I apologize if it is not the right time. When we lost our daughter, my
wife and I had very different reactions. My wife felt shattered and, for
months and more, could not see any light at the end of the tunnel. I, on
the other hand, experienced about 20 minutes of wrenching pain and then
felt little intense pain or sorrow. My wife struggled to find a way to
go on. I struggled to figure out why I was so together. It took quite a
while, but eventually my wife saw occasional glimmers of light in daily
life. I eventually realized that underneath my glazed over surface was a
“pool of tears” that listening to a certain song helped me access.
Once again, I apologize for intruding as a stranger, for presuming to
have something useful to say, and for comparing tragedies. If this was
not useful, please delete it and forgive me. If it was of any use, I’m
glad I wrote. May Hashem give you strength, grant you nechama, and only
smachot for a long time to come.
B’vracha,
Dan Jacobson- Bronfman 1987
Ben Hollander
memories of Tani z”l
In meditating upon the memory of Tani z”l these past difficult days, we felt that we would like to record for the Goodmans some personal remembrances we have of their beloved son, one of our son’s best friends–and a dear young friend/son of our own.
Judy, from a mother’s point of view: For me, Tani will always be at the center of my most cherished memories of our Netanel’s childhood. And I don’t even mean only the birthdays that we shared so intimately. But the most basic of quotidian situations: eating lunch in the kitchen. The highlights of this usually unremarkable time during elementary school days came when Tani (and usually Yair too) came for lunch. Now I love Netanel (H), and I love rair, and they both excel in many areas, but I am sure that I am not divulging any secrets to say that their expertise did not extend to talking with their mothers. They would speak in a low monotone which frequently did not reach my
ears–but even if it did, in monosyllabic language which rarely exuded much intelligible meaning. They seemed verbal enough in conversation with one another, but rarely did they initiate any conversation with this luncheonette proprietoress. When Tani came, it was a real treat! Firstly, he smiled. Secondly, he talked. And descriptively. This is how I
learned what was going on in the class, what the teachers were like, etc. And if in between the days that he came I wanted to know anything about school, I would simply call Maggie…
Now in retrospect I realize that even at a tender young age, Tani had the special talent for bridging worlds–in this case between kids and parents and school. His facility for communication also came to the fore in his interest in others and his respect. He asked questions, and was invariably polite and solicitous. Alone among Netanel (H) ‘s many friends, when he called on the phone he would acknowledge that he knew who I was (usually N’s friends would simply say” Netanel sham?”; Tani would say “hi Judy” first!). Oh, and he spoke English to me, with a delightful laid-back mid-West twang.
Tani was actually the youngest of the friends, even if the most mature–and the biggest. Sometimes I would see Netanel wearing something I didn’t recognize: “Tani outgrew it”. Also, Netanel’s first training weights, not to mention encouragement in basketball and running, came from the Goodmans; Jerry fathered our Netanel too.
Somewhere during high school (Tani and Netanel did not attend the same high school, but remained good friends) Tani changed. Netanel and Yair, as far as I could observe, grew up, became a little more responsible, but more or less gradually–with the main flowering still to come. Tani, however, simply blossomed. He was into all the things that his peers were into (basketball, Tzofim, social life etc.) but suddenly he was also into Yiddishkeit and values and education, and became a model student and leader.
We knew Tani from his brit (Maggie had only a few weeks before helped us manage Netanel’s first nursing–and bottles, when there was an infection) and as fate would have it, until a week before that fateful motzei Shabbat when on such a high from the spiritual stimulation of the yeshiva the limits of the physical tragically were misjudged. During his last Shabbat in Jerusalem he came to visit Netanel. In view of what happened the next week, I will never forget those moments. We heard a knock–and I happened to be the one closest to the stairs and the door so I went down to open it. I am not short, but when I opened it and looked at eye-level, I only saw a body, and needed to look up to see that angel’s face, haloed with a shock of curls, a sweet smile on his lips; he greeted me (in that way that always made the person opposite him feel good) and inquired if Netanel was home. I replied that he was in his room upstairs and please come in and go up.
On the way up, he saw Elie (the yeshiva bochur of our family) through the window to the balcony. So Tani interrupted going up to see Netanel to go out to say hello and talk to Elie. Since I didn’t think Elie had seen Tani for years, I went with him to (re-)introduce the now much bigger Tani to Elie (who hasn’t lived home for several years). I left them conversing about yeshivas. Only Tani of Netanel’s friends would have gone out to talk to Elie–and about yeshivas!
Elie was very impressed at Tani’s maturity and the level of his thinking.
When I spoke to Elie this week, he remarked how that conversation had been “min ha¬shamayim”-{from heaven}-so many times previously he had seen Tani in the house but
never had a chance to talk to him, and this, Tani’s last Shabbat in Jerusalem, Elie was blessed to have had that conversation which shall remain with him always.
,
Now it’s the father’s turn, Ben: As is well known, Jerry has always been a dear father¬ confessor and -encourager to our Netanel. What is less known is that conversely, Ben too was adopted by Tani to serve as his father. How so? Well, the boys had an assignment from elementary school to ask their parents for remembrances about Yom Ha-Atzmaut. So at the kitchen table, Ben told Tani and Netane1 his story–something Ben had learned when visiting the Museum of Independence with a summer group he was leading. The story was that the room of the Museum was the room where Ben-Gurion had declared the State. War was going on and it was supposed to be a secret, but word leaked out and the news was greeted by happy dancing crowds. But also by an intensification of the war–including bombs dropped on Te1 Aviv. And Ben-Gurion, not being able to sleep that night, because of excitement and his emotions at having declared the state which was already in peril, and knowing he had gone against the well-intentioned wishes of the United States and others who had urged that it might be more prudent to postpone the declaration of the state because of that peril, went down for a walk to the waterfront. There he saw a group of sali10rs and said to them: “today I signed a check, but it will be your task to see that it can be cashed and will not be just a piece of paper.” I think the story was a little above Netane1, but Tani was very taken by it, writing down all the details, and in school the next day recounted his “father’s story” during the Yom HaAtzmaut shiur. And we learned later that–reflecting his unusual ahavat Yisrael and storytelling and dramatic abilities from an early age– he told it with such intensity and drama that everyone was moved and the teacher proclaimed it as the best story told that day!
That Tani achieved such special heights so early makes his loss felt more keenly, but at least gives us the comfort that though it was far too short his life was so intensely and fully lived. We couldn’t ask for a more perfect young man to remain in our thoughts and spirit and inspire us to loving relationships and Yiddishkeit and tikkun olam–his memory will always be with us for a blessing. We shall always remember him as a flower tragically plucked far too early, but a flower of distinctive col or and beauty and openness which will be part of and enrich our family life always, as he dances with the angels next to kisay ha-kavod, illuminating the olam sh’ku10 tov…
With all our love to Tani’s dear family, whom we pray we shall always be close to like our own fami1y– Netane1, Ben & Judy, matriarch Sy1via, Elie et al
Elana Rozenman, former Peace Corps volunteer living in Jerusalem
March 14, 2002
Dear Maggie and Jerry,
I have thought often of you during the past weeks with heartfelt compassion and have wanted to contact you. I know you have a large supportive family and many wonderful friends — we all witnessed that at the shiva. So, although I don’t know you that well, I wanted you to know that I’m thinking of you and sending you strength and energy in your grief.
Having watched my parents coping with the death of my brother for the past 40 years, and still experiencing the unclosed hole in our family structure, I know the pain that losing a young son can cause. I hope and pray the simple miracle of the passage of time is aiding you in your grieving process.
The current horror we’re all living through has somewhat sapped my own energies, but I strongly believe in the healing power of love and compassion and nature. If at any time you would like to go for a walk in
the forest or on the sea, or would like to sit quietly under a tree, or spend time together in any way, I am available to you both with an open heart.
Love,
Elana
Noa Cedar
Tue, 12 Feb 2002
Dear Maggie, Jerry, Devora, Micah, Yael and Avichai,
I’ve been trying to write this letter for a few days but keep on finding myself wordless, I’m so shocked about what happened and can’t even start to imagine the pain you must be going through. I’m sorry I can’t be there with you, I know staying strong is so difficult at times like this and that the smile Tannie used to carry around with him will be missed by so many people. Although not with you in body, please know I think of you every second of the day and wish for a lot of ‘koach’.
Love, Noa
Marty Kavanaugh
March 7, 2002
My heart has been so sad since I heard of Tani’s death. I do know
this–all the love in my heart, I send to you. It won’t bring him back,
but it will help heal your hearts and hopefully, ease your grief.
It’s now 12 years (March 3, 1990) since our Dan left. The passage of time
does make the loss become bearable, that I promise. I can now actually
think of Dan without sadness, most of the time. What a life we had
together.
What a teacher he was–actually still is!!! I’m certain that he and Tani
are having a great time–probably laughing at us down here.
I’d so love to hear from you, when you’re “up to it”. Treat yourselves
gently. Give yourself permission to grieve. Surround each other with
love. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
I send you a tender hug, filled with my love to each of you.
xoxox,
Marty K
Avril Rose
Feb. 11. 2002
Maggie,
I’m devastated at your sad news – having confirmed what I read in the
newspaper with Susie on ‘motzai shabbat’. I would like to be with you
during the week of shiva but it won’t be possible. My thoughts are with
you and your family. May you all have the strength to accept blamelessly
and be comforted by the, no doubt, many happy memories and perhaps
amusing stories (which one can usually relate regarding ones kids) of
your son who will always have a very special place in your heart.
May you be strengthened by support from family and friends in the same
way you have unstintingly given of yourself in support of others
whenever and where ever it was needed!
Much love,
Avril
Lynda Bayden
February 12, 2002
Dear Maggie and Jerry,
I sent a letter out today but could not wait to communicate. Since last week I have thought of nothing else but your tragedy and the grief you must feel over losing your baby in such a senseless accident when the older children have survived the army and the daily danger of living in Israel. Nancy told me that Tanni was so handsome and terrific. I am sorry that I did not know him and only remember him as a little boy. Everyday you will have reminders of him and will keep him in your hearts always. This has been a terrible year in so many ways for all of us. I just dreaded receiving the phone calls from Adela and Cookie. I hope that your faith can be of some comfort to you at this dark time. Jeff joins me in praying for the family and sending our love in your time of sorrow.
Lynda
Sam Glicksman
Feb. 16, 2002
Dear Jerry, Maggie, Micha, Yael, Devorah and AviChi:
I am so sorry to hear of your loss. Tani was very young when I got to know you all, but it was great to see him all grown up last time I was there. He seemed like fun loving kid, and I know the hole will be great in the Goodman household. At least this tragedy led to life for four people, and something could come of the loss.
Is there a transplant foundation to send a donation to in Tani’s Name?
My deepest sympathy,
Sam
Nancy Rosenfeld
Feb. 12, 2002
Shalom Maggie.
I think about you and your family everyday and how hard this
time is for you. Friends from Israel who have been at your house report that you are solidly holding everyone together. What a wonderful article and gesture to others. Tani now lives on through others. If at anytime in the near future you feel the need to get away, please consider coming to visit. I have an empty home and a full heart for you.
Nancy
Richard Sneed, long-time friend of Maggie’s family
Feb. 13, 2002
Maggie and Jerry:
I have thought of you and Tani and yr whole family so often through the past decades, and most especially in the past two years. Three of my friends, including you, have each lost a young son suddenly and terribly in the past 20 years, each wonderful child just in the bloom of youth, ready to take on the world, full of promise, a joy to his parents and siblings. Even I who am not given to expressing grief cannot write about these things without tears. Ironically, I happen to be reading Job this month, but the truth is that it doesn’t take away the pain, though knowing even slightly all three families, my age and experience make me realize that only these families and others like them really understand suffering in the way that Job did. I don’t know how to say adequately what I feel, but I wanted you and Jerry to know how often I think of you and your dearest Tani and all the family and to wish you some kind of peace and blessings.
Love, Richard
And again from Richard Sneed Feb. 13, 2002
Maggie and Jerry:
Like everyone, I was devastated to learn of Netanel’s terrible accident, and my heart goes out to you, wonderful parents of this wonderful son. Through Bill I have kept up with you and your dear family for decades, even prior to that, when you were in the Peace Corps, and I have so much admired your courage and your integrity and your lovely family. This morning Bill sent the beautiful article in the POST with the terrific picture of Tani. What a son! No words I can muster can assuage your grief, but know that I grieve with you and can take some small comfort in his letting others live with his and your great generosity.
Love,
Richard Sneed
Deborah Harris
February 6, 2002
Dear Maggie and Jerry,
I have just heard about the situation with Tani, so difficult being so far away from you at this time…all I hope for you and your family is the courage and faith with which to deal with this terribly sad and trying time. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your whole family.
Love,
Deborah
Sherri Mandell
Box 97
Tekoa, Israel 90908
My Anniversary
After my 13 year old son Koby’s murder by terrorists over a
year ago, I sometimes hear his voice inside of me. But now it is
impossible to see or touch him. I want to pierce the distance
between us somehow and enter the world of souls, a world I
cannot see. But I have glimpses of that world.
One occurred a few days ago on my wedding anniversary. We
are not much for celebrating our anniversary, primarily because
our anniversary has always been overshadowed by the birth of
my next son, Daniel, on the same day. My son was my
anniversary present.
When Daniel was little I was always so exhausted by his
birthday parties that I had no energy to honor my own
celebration of marriage.
But this year was different. We’d already given Daniel his bar
mitzvah, and since he had been deluged with love and attention–
not to mention presents– we didn’t need to observe his
birthday. Instead we went out to lunch, just my husband and me.
When we walked into the restaurant, the waitress greeted us
with an enormous smile, telling me that she liked my skirt. This
young woman with her dark black shiny hair had a spirit and
effervescence I could only admire. I thought to myself: she has
no idea of the pain I am living with, the weight of what I carry.
Thank God she has no idea of the suffering included in life, the
way that every happiness is now infused with loss. Thank God
she is innocent.
As my husband and I ate our meal, we realized that the
restaurant was a perfect place to commemorate what would be
Koby’s upcoming 15th birthday. We wanted to take 15 poor or
disadvantaged people out to lunch to mark Koby’s birthday, to
add joy to the living.
We spoke to the manager about our plans. He said that he
volunteered at a nearby center that helped disadvantaged teens
from poor, broken families and that he thought that teenagers
would appreciate going out with us.
The idea was materializing almost on its own. We hadn’t
thought about taking teens for a meal, but it made sense. After
all, Koby was a teen when he was killed. We felt that up above,
Koby was pulling some strings to help us organize his birthday.
When we told the manager that Koby’s birthday was on a
Friday, he said that they normally didn’t serve lunch on Fridays,
but he would open the restaurant especially for our group.
We thanked him and before he walked away, my husband said:
“Do you know the Goodman family? They live around here.
They lost their 17 year old son Tani in an accident. We went to
the shiva and I wonder how the parents are doing.”
“Ask your waitress. She’s Tani’s sister.”
I looked at her, at her beauty and her spirit, and I thought-you
never know what is going on inside. I had so misjudged her.
She came over to the table, and we told her of our loss and she
shared her own. I felt like we were sisters of the soul. . I told her
what I had thought when I met her-how untouched she was by
pain, how innocent. We talked about the pain of living with
death. It is a weight that can crush you or make you stronger,
depending on how you carry it.
We told her how wonderful it was to have her as our waitress
on this day that we had been fearful of celebrating our
anniversary.
As we spoke, I realized how much of life is hidden. We don’t
see what’s inside of people. Inside of almost everybody is a
pocket of pain– some pockets are bigger, some are smaller–
but they are always there. We can’t see somebody else’s pain
until they share it with us.
When we don’t share our pain, it is like an unwanted guest at the
table, somebody who demands fancy china, ironed napkins,
somebody with whom we will never be able to live.
But when we share the pain, it becomes not exactly a friend, but
somebody we can get used to. Somebody who will sit at the
table with us in our pajamas. We don’t have to be on guard
around it. We can treat it with love.
Which is way Yael, the waitress, treated us. Suddenly we
looked up to see her carrying a piece of cake with a sparkler
candle sputtering in the middle.
“Happy anniversary,” she said to us with a huge smile on her
face.
I can’t help but feel that Koby and Tani arranged this gathering
and gave us this present. I can’t help but feel that if I could see
more clearly, I would see Koby somewhere above, lighting the
candles.
“Tribute to Tani” in the Memorial Room of the Masuot Scouts Troop, Jerusalem
Netanel Isaac, “Tani” Goodman ,z’l
Presented to the Jerusalem Masuot Troop Scouts’ Memorial Room, by the Goodman Family
Tani Goodman was born in Jerusalem on Nov. 20th, 1984 to Maggie and Jerry Goodman.
Tani’s family has always loved the Jerusalem scouts and all that Shevet Masuot stands for. Tani, the youngest of 5 children was a member of Gdud Yuval. Tani’s oldest sister, Dvorah, the mother of Anael, was a member of, Gdud Sinai. Micah, married to Zippy, was a member of Gdud Yogev. Yael was a member of Gdud Etgar and Avichai was a member of Gdud Oren.
Tani attended Dugma School until 7th grade when he moved to Himmelfarb Junior High. Tani then attended Hartman high school from 9th to 12th grades. Tani joined the scouts in the 4th grade, and became a counselor of Gdud Eitan in 10th grade. In 12th grade Tani was counselor in Shevet Yehuda of Kfar Adumim–Gdud Otzem. This was one of the proudest accomplishments of his young life.
Tani loved the scouts, never missed an activity and was loved by his friends in return. Tani set goals for himself, and wrote that one goal in his life was to become a counselor of the scouts, to give to the younger scouts all that he had been given. Tani’s younger scouts of Gdud Eitan wrote later that “Tani influenced us all–his huge smile, his optimism, his speed in helping others–these couldn’t be missed. There isn’t one of us (50) who he didn’t influence” Shevet Yehuda in Kfar Adumim where Tani was a counselor of Gdud Otzem wrote “Tani was our couductor…we will always remember him and the special path he chose. Part of him will always live in us” . Gdud Natan, named for Tani on (yud alef b adar) in 2002, wrote “It is a great responsibility to be named for Tani’s name: the generosity of spirit, the honor of one for another, and true friendship—we will do all to honor this name.” Tani’s dearest friends in his Gdud Yuval wrote at the end of summer camp in 2002: “Tani was one of the most outstanding in the troop, in the gdud and in school…Tani knew how to set goals for himself and realize them. He would set goals, important goals of great moral value, and continue to pursue them. …To you, dear “hanaga” we say– Set goals for yourselves, realize them, share with your friends, make new friendships and always, always have a smile on your face, never mind the how bad the situation is. Give all your hearts to your activities and stay the course in your jobs –exactly like Tani ”
Tani was a 12th grade pupil in Hartman High school when he attended a weekend at Maale Gilboa Yeshiva. Saturday evening, February 2, 2002, while going home, Tani was caught in the electric gate of the Maale Gilboa community, and mortally injured. He lay in a coma for 5 days, fighting for his life, but HaShem had other plans for Tani. Tani was pronounced brain dead on February 7th, 2002 at the HaEmek Hospital of Afula, Israel. Tani’s family decided to donate his organs for transplant. Today, 4 people in Israel are alive and 2 others have the gift of sight because of Tani’s gift to them.
But the true gift of Tani is his everlasting personality. This will always be with us, along with his tremendous love of life. Tani loved all those around him, we are lucky to have had the honor of being touched by his love.
Now the angels are the lucky ones.
BYFI NEWSLETTER
SPRING 2002
The Bronfman Youth Fellowships in Israel
A PROGRAM OF THE SAMUELBRONFMAN FOUNDATION , INC.
TANI GOODMAN Z’L
With profound sadness and pain, we announce the passing of Tani (Netanel) Goodman, (Amitim 2001). Tani passed away on February 7th, a few days after being caught in a closing electric gate, which crushed him, causing severe injuries to his chest and head. The 2001 Amitim, supported and inspired by Yaffa Bernstein, Yoav Donyets and Lior Soroka, coordinators and madrich of the Amitim program, gave what assistance they could to Tani and the Goodman family, and now, along with all those who knew him, mourn the loss of this bright, lively, loving, caring young man.
The memories of his recent trip to the US with the rest of the Israeli Fellows are still fresh in the minds of the Amitim and the 2001 Fellows; we will never forget his intensity, largeness of spirit, humanity, and love for the Jewish people. We especially remember, and will cherish, his discussion with Edgar Bronfman about making Aliyah. Tani’s openness, idealism and love for Israel were present in that interaction, as they were in everything he did. It is literally impossible to believe that such a vivid and vibrant presence is no longer with us. The 2001 Fellows and Amitim, who knew and loved Tani, feel his loss especially keenly; the entire Bronfman community, and the Jewish people, are diminished by it. We hope and pray that the Goodman family will know no more sorrow. May they be comforted in the knowledge that Tani was loved by, and inspired, so many.
The following is excerpted from the February 12,2002
Jerusalem Post
Accident Victim’s Organs Save Four
By Judy Siegel
JERUSALEM (February 12) – A Jerusalem family has turned its personal tragedy – the death of Netanel Goodman, 17, in an accident – into life for four people who have received his organs and sight for two more who will get his corneas.
Goodman, a “student of the year” at the Shalom Hartman Institute high school, a scout leader, and a Bronfman Fellow, died last week in Ha’emek Hospital in Afula. He suffered brain death after an
accident at Ma’aleh Gilboa, whose army preparatory school he was considering after graduation.
“He and friends finished the admissions test early. While waiting for a ride home, he and other boys ran toward the electric gates; Netanel got caught between them…He made a little mistake of
judgment,” said his father Jerry, who with his wife Maggie moved here “by chance” in 1970 – he from Massachusetts and she from Oklahoma – despite a non-religious and non-Zionist background.
Jerry runs a metal business in Mishor Adumim, while Maggie teaches English at the Hebrew University High School in Jerusalem and as a volunteer with Hillel, a parents’ organization for youngsters with mild learning disabilities. The two, who live in the capital’s German Colony, have four other children; Netanel was the youngest.
“We all realized at the hospital he was going to die,” Jerry told The Jerusalem Post. “Every one in our family independently came to the conclusion that Netanel would have wanted to donate his organs, and we approached the doctors and transplant coordinator even before they asked us.”
Netanel’s heart has saved the life of a Tel Aviv man, 56; the liver went to a Jerusalem woman, 63;
and the kidneys to two teenagers. All recipients are doing well.
“I would have liked for more of his organs to be taken, but it was not possible,” Jerry said, adding he would like to meet the recipients if they agree.
More than 1,000 people made shiva calls at the Goodman home during a single day, including Prof. Jonathan Halevy, a neighbor who is director of Israel Transplant and director-general of Shaare Zedek Hospital.
“My three brothers came from the US,” Jerry said. “Two of them hadn’t been to Israel for 32 years,
not because they couldn’t afford it but because Israel wasn’t in their lives. It’s the first time all of us
are together in Israel in three decades.”
REFLECTIONS ON TANI
2001 FELLOWS
ADAM SCHWARTZ
I guess I should preface all of this by saying that I know very little about the subject of death. I was, however, lucky enough to get to know Tani. These are my thoughts on him and his life.
It’s strange. The odds are that I probably never would have seen Tani again anyway– I don’t know when I will next be in Israel or if Tani ever planned to return to the United States. And yet, right now I feel this terrible grief traveling through my body in the form of a numbness that clouds my thoughts and weighs on my heart. Why? Because the loss of Tani does not affect only me; far from it. I couldn’t imagine someone knowing him and not taking an instant liking to him. He was a warm person always armed with a smile. He could discuss religious philosophy and play a hell of a snowball fight. Rarely does a name describe someone so accurately: Tani was truly a good man.
This is not uniquely my loss, or our loss, or even only the loss of those who knew Tani.
This is the loss of everyone who ever would have known him. If Tani was to be a rabbi, this is his future congregation’s loss. If Tani was to be a member of the K’Nesset, this is Israel’s loss. This is, simply, the loss of the world. People like Tani are rare and we are lucky to have known him. I have asked myself countless times, “why did this happen?” I have come to the conclusion of no conclusion, a resounding answer of “I don’t know.” I’ve read the Book of Job and I also know that sometimes things just happen, good or bad. Can bad things happen to good people? Yes, and sadly I can say that with assurance. Many will question their belief in God after a tragedy like this. Is there a greater plan? Was this part of that plan? Maybe. I can’t really say if knowing the answer to that would make me feel any better. “I don’t know.” I seem to being saying that a lot. I guess that’s because there are so many unanswered questions that I have and that I am sure you all have. Is there logic in searching for logic? Where does this leave us? Where does this leave Tani? I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.
There are some things that I do know. I know Tani Goodman was a great human being with so much to offer so many people. I know that he left us too early, far too early, and that will forever be our loss.
We are all lucky in some way and we all have something to be happy about. That does not mean we should not cry for Tani. What happened was terrible. But let us also remember that we are lucky enough to be alive, and that, at least is something. It is scary to think that it could all end at any moment. We should cry for Tani’s death, but don’t forget to smile for his life. His life was short, but that does not mean he didn’t do great things. I invite those of you who know Tani better than I to share stories about him so we can all learn more about him. A funeral may be a mourning of a death, but it should also be a celebration of life.
As for me, I am caught somewhere in between believing my own words and thinking that I am an idiot. It is hard to try and smile right now. But one last thing that I do know is that I am alive.
And, as long as I have that blessing, I will try to appreciate it. I urge you all to do the same.
Tani was not lucky enough to live a full life, and nobody knows what our futures hold. We have today. Today is a great day to do something great. Four days after Tani’s death, I learned that his organs had been harvested to save the lives of four sick people in Israel, including two teenagers. His corneas gave two people eyesight. I smiled as I read about this in the Jerusalem Post. Even after Tani had passed away, he continued making the world better. His commitment to tikkun olam, that was so evident during his life, continued to triumph after his death. If you feel like crying for Tani, go ahead. But make sure that for every tear of sadness that you weep, you shed one of happiness– for the many lives he saved and the many more he touched.
I would like to leave you all with a short story about Tani. As we said our goodbye’s at the end of the mifgash, Tani and I hugged. During this farewell he kept telling me that if I was ever in Jerusalem to give him a call. He said something to the effect of “The time doesn’t matter. Even if it is three in the morning, give me a call.” That was Tani. I knew that, even at three in the morning, I had a friend. I had a great friend.
ARIELLA KURSHAN
Thursday night of the Mifgash, I was sitting in our common room with Tani and a few other Amitim. All week I had been asking Tani to sing to me the song about the four angels. Finally, he agreed to sing. Tani was shy, so he turned off the lights. I can still hear his voice singing about the angels- I hear his fire, intensity, desire, and will. Tani was striving so hard to express his passion through song. That night, I told him that hearing him sing enabled me to feel God’s presence. Tani carried God both in his soul and in his heart. I find comfort in knowing that Tani is now resting with the angels about whom he sang.
LIZABETH SHRIER
I’m not sure if I have the courage to write this, to express my most deep and intimate feelings on paper…but in honor of him, I’ll suck it up. This past Thursday, I lost a most dear friend. A friend who lived 10,000 miles away, but who always seemed to be sitting right by my side. He consumed my thoughts, and was the topic of so many wonderful conversations…and even though he is gone, I will carry a piece of him forever. In actuality, the world really lost a friend this week.
Never have I met an individual so passionate, so devoted, so completely in love with the Jewish people and Eretz Yisrael. I mourn his loss not only because I can no longer speak with him again, but I mourn also for each person who never had the honor of being greeted by his warm smile, and those who never will. I learned so much from him…he was a lover of people, an advocate of justice, and had the strongest passion for life. To him, life was one big opportunity, a chance to spread joy and a love of goodness around the world.
His main goal in life was to become a Tzaddik, what he defined as a person who brings others closer to G-d through love. Everyone who knew him felt as though he had already accomplished his goal-he was only 17. Two weeks ago he had his meeting with the Israeli army office. His profile was perfect. He was so excited. He could not wait to begin his service, to serve the country that meant all the world to him. He wanted to die fighting, to die fighting for his people and his land. In retrospect, it all seems quite ironic—his perfection, his intense excitement to protect others. If only someone had protected him…he desperately needed protection that night. He spent his last week of life visiting Yeshivot and lying in a coma. In a way I am happy that he was not aware of his condition: happy that he was not able to realize the severity of his injury. Why? Because he would have spent the time worrying about all of us…worrying that we were spending too much time crying, wasting too much energy on him. He would have been miserable. At least he passed happy and at ease, knowing how much I, and all his friends cared about him. And at least he does not need to see Israel in strife any more; it pained him more than anyone. I cry myself to sleep each night, and during the day I try to hold back the tears. I’ve had a hard time praying, a hard time thanking G-d for all the wonderful miracles he performs in this world. When I was in shul this past Shabbat, my Rabbi said, “We need to thank Hashem, especially for this week, because it was a week full of miracles in Israel”(referring to the stopping of a few suicide bombers). I know that to the greater community his statement was accurate, but to me, it was a dagger.
Would one more miracle have hurt, why weren’t my prayers answered? I have a thousand questions bombarding me simultaneously, and I could stop believing. I could end my faith right now! But I won’t, because I know that it transcends me, and I know that Tani would have believed right now…he always had faith, always realized that not all the answers were here on earth, but somewhere there was a larger picture; a larger force managing a world which without it would be random and senseless. I have faith in Tani, and so I have a greater faith in G-d. I will forever be changed. I will forever remember this presence that entered my life, altered my perspective, and filled my thoughts with hope. I will always hold a piece of his passion, his love for the Jewish people and his pride in his heritage. His name was Netanel-G-d gave: and that is exactly the way we all felt about him…he was our gift.
ELIHAI BRAUN
Lost in too many words that will not materialize, I appealed to poetic syntax, but I lacked that also. Tani, you’re beautiful, perhaps majestic, and I… cannot compare. But even a foolish man occasionally produces a wise word – and with this thought in mind – I offer my wise words of foolishness.
You’re captured in nostalgic images that pass and float over me like the counted passing sheep that keep me awake. I cannot help but think that you were a just a lamb, prematurely sacrificed on an unknown alter, and for what? Oh, the anger mixes with the mystery; the three letter word makes its due appearance, why? Words, however sincere, cannot mend the pits of life, nor can they serve justice to this man that inspired blessing in all our lives. Foolish as they are – all foolishness! How can there ever be greatness or anything under the sun if our Tani’s- ?!?!?
God!?!
Accusations won’t get me anywhere. These pits of life, I guess, are on some road that lead us somewhere. I just wish I knew where I was going.
With a finger pointed up, and a tear rolling down, Elihai
WORDS TO HIS FACE by SARAH BRODBAR -NEMZER
How can you put words to his face
“Blue eyes” don’t say enough
How can you know all that it had to say
When my words could never match up
His touch
Not on the hand, or on the heart, but on the spirit
of which he is now a part
Gone from us to the One whom he loved
Joined to the heart of the one up above
We weep bitter tears and try to recall
The love that flowed from him to us all
And from deep in our minds we can still hear him
speak
And we know that he wants us to find what we seek.