Rabbi Aryeh Stechler’s Eulogy for Amir 3/28/04 at Congregation Ahavath Torah

This weekend I saw a degree of strength that I had never seen before. Dr. Susman relayed to me how the Lopatin family sat around the Shabbat table discussing the parsha, with the Las Vegas Rabbi and his seven children. Everyone in this room looks up to the Lopatins as role models of Gevruah [strength]. Out of the entire family, it was Amir who most closely resembled Yossi’s bold strength amidst all adversity – cool, calm, focused and determined, no matter how difficult the challenge. He was true to his name – Amir – which means strength. Amir needs you to be stronger than ever.

There were two things about Amir that I found both unique and incredible and I believe they are hinted to in his name. The first two letters – “A” “M” – stand for Emet [A,M,T – truth]. He was a true person – true to himself and honest to the world. He had no need for the games we all play – doing things we don’t believe in and saying things we don’t mean. Everything Amir did, he did sincerely out of the depths of his being.

When I became close with the Lopatin children immediately after Yossi’s death, Amir was the hardest to get friendly with. He did not care for idle small talk and he had no desire for the trite things people say when they try to make others feel better. But when we finally had a chance to talk at length, Amir became my deepest friend. We had intimate conversations about his spiritual quest – how he despised ceremonious heartless adhesion to ritual, and how he yearned for a true connection to G-d and the Jewish community. When I suggested that we pay someone to be a shomer [guard] for Amir’s body for Shabbat, the family felt that Amir would not have wanted that. Although that would certainly have fulfilled the minhag [custom] of shemirah [watching over a dead person’s body], for Amir to be guarded by a stranger who meant nothing to him, would have been a missed opportunity for a much deeper religious experience. Thus, the Lopatins insisted that only close family and friends should watch Amir, even though it meant that Sarah and Uri would walk over nine miles. For Amir, being true to yourself and being honest about who you are, are prerequisites to being a human being. To be truthful is to emulate G-d to the highest degree. “Emet hee Chosamo shel Hakadosh Baruch Hu” – “Truth is the signature of G-d.”

The second part of his name the “Y” “R” – reminds me of the word “YoReh” – to teach. Amir was a successful computer professional. He succeeded at every task any job could throw at him. However, one day he realized that he wanted more. He began studying with inner city children to help them achieve academically. Then one day, in a blink of an eye, he rerouted his entire life. He left his lucrative positions in the computer world to begin a degree in computer education – to teach people through his love – computers. His own self-actualization was not enough for him -he needed to transmit knowledge to others, to help other achieve their aspirations in life. He was a Moreh par excellance.

Shoshana told me how he would chat with his students about their relationships with girls in order to form a bond with them. When discussing his own relationships with Shoshana he would often jokingly quote the theories of his very young students as if they were his own, impersonations included. His desire to be the ultimate teacher afforded him the ability to bond with his students to such a degree that their words became his own, and that their lives intertwined with his.

“Moshe Emet VeTorato Emet” – “Moshe [Moses] is truth and his teaching is Truth.” Amir was our Moshe [Moses].

He had these two dreams, to be an exemplar of Emet [truth] and to be a creative Moreh [teacher]. Most people have dreams and they are granted the time and the opportunities to make those dreams reality. For some reason, which we can never understand, Amir was not granted that opportunity. But he was a magnificent dreamer. It is incumbent upon me, everyone else who knew Amir and all those standing in this room today to make an unbreakable promise to Amir, to swear to him that his dreams will be fulfilled. Every time we holdfast to Emet [truth], when we act honestly with our family, friends, G-d and with our own selves, we will make Amir’s dream a reality. Every time we think creatively about the education of our children, our community and the world, we will transform Amir’s vision into existence. Amir had very high standards for himself for what it means to a person and a Jew, and we must not and we will not let him down. We will realize his dreams.

[Besides for my family, I cannot think of anything I have ever done that I am more proud of then going this past Shabbat as a representative of the Englewood and Teaneck communities to be with the Lopatin and Wolfson families. I would be remiss if I did not mention the courage and kindness showed over the weekend by three very special people. Dr. Jonathon Sussman – no words are large enough to describe how much he did for the Lopation family. Beyond his medical prowess, which was invaluable to the situation on many levels, his compassion and support saved their lives and mine. D.A. and Stephanie, you are clearly children to Sarah, brother and sister to Shoshana and Uri, and your bond with Amir remains so very deep. Your presence and support for the family was essential, and thank you again D.A. for Friday night.]

JOURNEY I

There should be silence in your song.
The clergy has it all wrong.
Seven heavens in five spheres.
All prostrate to such dastardly fears.
Me, I’ve had enough of these books.
There’s another way to look…

can’t you hear:

the silent cry
of clouds in the sky
warns us not to try.
these museums are filled with lies.
Can’t you see:

You embrace her phony face;
even Holden is a disgrace,
trying to find love in this place.

why wait?

the story never ends
until the fabric screen rends
with sounds of What do? Where to? Why-when?
and sleep is all you can comprehend.

in this place:

Can’t you see
your concrete tomb?
Off the bus
there’s more room.

At last

You have found the door.
I thought you were lost,
when they made that wall.
Windows are not big enough for you and me
Out here on the perimeter, we are free?

(but are we?
Never free,
not in the periphery,
not you,
not me.
“Further,” said the bus.)

but must we?

then further we shall go,
past the periphery where the voices of buses wax low,
and instead just stars
(too hard to count),
no cars,
the heavenly cacophony of the space between light.

At last

We have gone beyond
Where all that is black expels all that is it.
It collides with calculators
and Pi rains down to a million trillion digits.
Fools open their mouths and swallow it up.

why wait?

For the others to finish dancing,
Fourth dimensional treadmills are for those that ask the
Questions.
The answers have no need to understand
because (no more pencils, no more books, no more teachers’
dirty looks)
they are free.

can’t you see:

that this place is big enough for you and me,
as long as we embrace infinity.
the closer we come,
the more room there’ll be.

can’t you hear:

the music is very high,
too high for the sleeping ears of women and men,
it is the rhythmic piercing of the pig’s fly-infested head
by children with spears dancing round irregular septagons.

The music is too loud to dance to,
But yet the fools ignore and continue.
The light is bright and beautifully mad.
and so the its and others sleep in the shade.
but for you and me, together has departed;
this journey into pure existence has started.

–Amir Lopatin

Some time spent with Amir

Amir always had the right words. I can’t do him justice, so I’m just going to share how I spent some time with Amir.

Amir lived three houses away from our synagogue, Ahavat Torah, so on Shabbat afternoons between mincha and maariv, we would sometimes walk over to play chess. He was a good chess player. He was fair and straight – never too competitive.

We would sit at a small table, and play on a wooden chess set. His mother would bring over fruits, and his father would ask about our lives. It was a warm and friendly atmosphere.

I always looked forward to coming home for the weekend, possibly seeing Amir, and sitting down for another game of chess.

-Zev Davidovics

THE LAST PIECE OF UNDERWEAR

Last night, Mommy said–
all bedecked in cotton–
“We have no more money
for underwear.”
“We have no more of those little
trains on those little bloomers for you.”
Me?
Me, always so proud of my underoos,
My supermans, my spidermans.
My mans.
No more underwear???
No more. . .
So I tore off that last pair of Hanes I had left.
It was only white, not even colored.
Then danced naked,
little pecker waving in the breeze.

Amir Lopatin

Appreciation dawns in our hearts

This is a post Amir submitted last year to the Yahoo! Groups: NYC-Ultimate Message Board

From: Amir lopatin <amirlopatin@y…>
Date: Mon Apr 28, 2003 10:03 pm
Subject: manhattan vs brooklyn exhibition results

The manhattan vs brooklyn game was a big success with about 10 men and 1 women on each side battling it out for the pride of their borough. At first emotions ran high as these two implacable foes faced off in this historic match. A see-saw battle ensued as both sides refused to yield to their opponent from across the river. But as the game wore on and the sun slowly set over the hudson a grudging appreciation dawned in the hearts of everyone involved. Sure we may be from different boroughs but dont our similarities outweigh our differences? Soon it became clear who the real enemy was: The soccer players who kicked us off promptly at 7:30. Perhaps symbolically, the game ended in a tie 21-21.

Announcement from “Chabad at Stanford” (3-27-04)

It is with great sadness and deep sorrow that I inform you of the tragic passing of a dear friend and fellow Stanford student, Amir Lopatin, who was killed in a car accident this Friday.

A gathering of friends and memorial service will take place this Monday, March 29th at 8:00pm at the Chabad House at Stanford – 679 Stanford Avenue. Feel free to bring poems or any materials.

Our heartfelt sympathy goes out to the bereaved, so suddenly and unexpectedly parted from one near and dear to them.

-Rabbi Dov Greenberg

A quote that epitomizes Amir

From: Rachel Andron
At a conference for Public Interest lawyers, the following quote was used to describe individuals who are driven and dedicated to changing the world for the better. Amir was one of those individuals…

“Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them; disagree with them; glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do.”

-On The Road, Jack Kerouac

Amir, we will miss you forever.

Mikey and Benji’s Eulogy for Amir

We’ve been asked to relate a story about our friend Amir, and, in keeping with Jewish custom during the month of Nissan, will focus on celebrating Amir’s life.

Those of us who knew Amir know that no eulogy or anecdote–no matter how pithy or exemplary–could possibly distil his essence. Amir’s magnificence was, and will always be, larger than words, his measure more fully felt than thought, his totality better represented in the broken hearts of the people who today fill the shul to honor and say goodbye to him. So please accept these few words as a modest attempt to share a small, but meaningful, part of the Amir that we know and love.

By 8th grade, Amir had firmly established his intellectual prowess. He casually used words like “victual” and “asunder;” had mastered world-domination games like Axis & Allies; had taken, and scored well on, the SAT’s; knew “basic” computer language; and had written reams of short stories, all the while innocently assuming that his friends were as smart and productive as he was. But we weren’t. As it turned out, many of Amir’s closest friends were sports-lovers. And while he was reading his dog-eared copy of THE CATCHER IN THE RYE, we were off playing sports, specifically basketball. Realizing that athletics served as a more likely common ground between him and his friends than literature, Amir took it upon himself to learn the one thing he hadn’t–basketball. He asked his father to put a hoop up in the driveway, traded in his Velcro sneakers for high-tops, folded up his glasses, and bought a Spalding. As in everything he did, Amir was a quick study. Months of dedicated practice showed Amir and his friends that, indeed, he was an athlete. But for Amir it wasn’t enough to simply play the game; Amir wanted to make the Moriah school team. Sure enough, after two grueling tryouts, Amir was issued a uniform and a schedule–he had made the squad.

It’s only a small story, but it illustrates one of Amir’s greatest qualities–his remarkable passion for self-improvement, a passion he demanded of, and inspired in, his friends. Amir knew his friends’ weaknesses and, quietly and sensitively, challenged us to confront and overcome them. We, his lucky friends, have been shaped by him, taught by him, touched by him, moved by him, and made better by him, and we will carry him (and his perfect laugh) in our hearts wherever we go.

–Ben Prager and Mikey Allen, 3/28/04