Vayelech: Heshie

When I was about 19, I read On The Road, the canon text of the Beats.  I idolized (the word is chosen) the Beat elite, I was attracted to them like a 5 year old is attracted to a teen.  I did not understand the book. Although  I listened to it again last year, I can still say that, but in a different way.  What I did comprehend was that this was an Odyssey story, a travel adventure with dangers and  surprises, a test of human ingenuity and a questioning of desires.  In  Parshath Vayelech, Moshe speaks to a people who have experienced and survived a great adventure: the Egyptian revolution and 40 years in the desert. He tells them that the journey is far from over. 

I had an On The Road experience when I was 19.  Our friend Heshie Stoffer was getting married in Montreal.  Heshie (z"l) died  the day before Rosh Hashanah, 4 days ago. 

 We all lived in Brooklyn.  We all chipped in ( I think it was $50.00 each; corrects to $350 today) to buy a 1954  Packard whom we named Bessy. Packard was a luxury brand in its day.  It was like a 20 year old Cadillac.  The car had problems, but one of the group ( Zevi [z"l}) had experience with cars. Cars were quite exotic for me.  My parents never owned a car, so riding in a car was a treat for me. Driving to Montreal, 375 miles, a 7 hour ride, with 5 of my best friends was an outstanding experience.  And when the car broke down, gave up the ghost on the New York Thruway, the memory became indelible. [Details are vague by design]

Heshie was at the center  of many adventures in my life.  He took me to meet Rabbi Scheinberg, who wore more than 100 pairs of tzitzith (  four cornered fringed garments) simultaneously. When he met my 16 year old American son, the first thing he did was disassemble his gun and tell him to put it back together so they could go shooting. 

It was the day before Rosh Hashanah, as if in anticipation of his own yahrzeit ( anniversary of death) that Heshie did the greatest kindness for me.  My father had just died on the airplane, travelling from Miami to the Kline-Galland nursing home in Seattle.  That prompted an emergency landing in Oklahoma where the preparations for burial were  performed through the generosity of the local Chabad.  After many adventures (meeting my passport in New York with the help of  Josh Gortler and Steve and Naomi Toder)  my sister and I arrived with the body in Israel.  The burial took place quickly ( thanks to the paradigm of altruism: David Gurtler).  I was left in Israel for Rosh Hashana. Heshie (z"l) and his wife Suzie (z"l) [who had ovarian cancer at the time], took care of  me  in the moment of my grief.  There was no one who manifested the verse:

הָפַ֣כְתָּ מִסְפְּדִי֮ לְמָח֢וֹל לִ֥י פִּתַּ֥חְתָּ שַׂקִּ֑י וַֽתְּאַזְּרֵ֥נִי שִׂמְחָֽה׃ 

You turned my lament into dancing,
you undid my sackcloth and girded me with joy,

more than Heshie.  And he did it with reverence. What a loss. 

The parsha tells us that there is a story that survives loss. The Israelites will  survive the passing of Moshe ... but it will not be the same.  It will not be the same without Heshie.