Memories of Harvey....
When one thinks of Harvey Rosenwasser the first things that come to mind are those that I don't remember at all. For example, I don't remember actually meeting Harvey, although it must have been in 1964 when we moved into a home across the street. Our daughter, Lori and Beth Rosenwasser were probably around three so I assume our meeting somehow related to the girls. I don't recall Harvey ever saying a bad word about anyone or denigrating anyone, with the obvious exception of opponents of Israel and ignorant politicians. And I can't seem to recall a day after his retirement and move to Florida that I didn't receive at least four or five e-mails from him, some political observations and references to writings of others (some of which took me days to get to read through), and some good jokes that I forwarded to others and some bad jokes that caused me to respond "get a job."
Of course there are the memories of our trip to Greece with a 24 hour excursion to Istanbul (Leave it to Harvey to remember the name of the Istanbul taxi driver for years thereafter), and the visits to Nantucket and later to Florida. And I remember the days before he turned to the saxophone, and relied upon the piano (which he could only play in the key of C) to accompany my feeble attempts at the trumpet.
I certainly vividly recall a Fourth of July drive to see the fireworks in the small local town of Narberth, not far from our homes, with me driving a Volkswagen because of limited available parking, but with four adults and five kids all packed in and Jen and my son Jimmy, both about five years of age, sitting together in the shelf behind the rear seats.
And there was the trip on Harvey's small sailboat in Nantucket harbor when Harvey came back to the dock and asked me to grab onto the pier pole, which I did, But apparently Harvey had failed to install a brake on his sailboat and sailed off with me hanging precariously over the water from the pier and Harvey sitting in the sailboat laughing.
Or driving back to his Nantucket home from the dock in his Jeep wagon when we noticed a tire rolling by itself on the street in front of us as we wondered where it came from, only to find out that it came from the right front wheel of Harvey's Jeep.
And who could forget Harvey wearing fleece lined trousers whenever the temperature fell below eighty degrees.
Memories for sure, going back over fifty years, about my best friend.
Earl Epstein