Amy Finklestein Remembers Amir

Amy Finklestein shared the following thoughts at Chabad at Stanford’s memorial for Amir, March 29, 2004.
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I found out about the accident – I started thinking about where I knew Amir from – we went to Brown together – we were both a part of the Jewish community there… as soon as I saw him at Stanford – people were already looking for him, because Daniel had told them to – I was looking out for him.

Recently it really feels like I saw him a lot…

When I read Dov’s email, I thought about a conversation Friday night at David Singer’s – there were 4 or 5 of us – and Jen brought up Amir – and this was one of the most positive conversations about a person I have ever been a part of – it was almost like a five minute speech about how wonderful Amir was; I feel really good knowing there was this great conversation about how great he is; somehow it makes me feel a little better knowing he was on his way out of the world with all these positive thoughts about him…

Rabbi Mychal Copeland, Rabbi at Stanford Hillel, remembers Amir

Rabbi Mychal Copeland, the Rabbi at Stanford Hillel, participated in Chabad at Stanford’s memorial for Amir, held on March 29, 2004.

Rabbi Copeland lit a yartzeit candle and said:

“The soul is akin to a flame…it has not gone out – as Lizzie so beautifully said, his soul has returned to its source…”

Rabbi Copeland then read psalm 23…

“The lord is my shepherd”
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures:
He leads me beside the still waters.
He restores my soul:
He leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:
For you are with me;
Your rod and your staff they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies:
You anoint my head with oil; My cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
And I will dwell in the house of God for ever.

Then she read words of Rabbi Kushner:

“‘…I walk thru the valley of the shadow death’… – the miracle is that we find our way out…The advice of the psalmist is – Don’t be afraid to love people; don’t be afraid of losing. Trust God to enter into your pain and make it less dark; less frightening…”

Daniel Silverberg Remembers Amir

The following was delivered by Daniel Silverberg as part of Chabad at Stanford’s memorial service for Amir, March 29, 2004.
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I first met Amir in Yeshiva 10 years ago. We overlapped a month before I returned to college.

I got back in touch with him after his father died over the summer. Shortly after Amir arrived in California, we met up at the Law School Caf to talk. I was amazed by the sensitivity and thoughtfulness he demonstrated about the events that had engulfed his family for the past year. His father’s illness and recent passing, the Shiva period, his moving out to Stanford. He was so honest and aware of his emotions, so full of life, which at this most difficult moment made him such an optimist. He told me about a woman he was in love with. He shared with me his honest fears about being away from his family, but how excited he was to start at Stanford. We immediately began speaking about issues of faith and Torah; including his newfound appreciation for the practical aspects of Jewish law following his father’s death.

I felt motivated by his intensity, his willingness to maintain avenues of questioning and to press himself intellectually in a manner I hadn’t done in years. Amir was a person who kept his feet to the spiritual fire; whereas I felt complacent in my questioning and spiritual development since yeshiva, Amir was still engaged in learning and growing. I told my wife Sarah after meeting him that I felt like I was back in Yeshiva while talking to Amir, back in an environment where people asked themselves each day, “where am I spiritually,” how am I doing?

I didn’t see much of Amir after that, but I appreciate what he gave me that day.

Adina Danzig, Executive Director of Stanford Hillel, Remembers Amir

The following was delivered by Adina Danzig, Executive Director of Stanford Hillel, as part of Chabad at Stanford’s memorial service for Amir, March 29, 2004.
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I met Amir when he first came to Stanford. He was looking for the right place to go to pray.

I was amazed at how quickly you could see this person honoring so deeply his father; and at the same time struggling with his own relationship with Judaism – but wanting to honor his father in a way that his father would want.

He had such a generous spirit of honesty and wisdom…

Reverend Scotty McClellan, Dean of Religious Life at Stanford, remembers Amir

The following poem was read by Reverend Scotty McClellan, Dean of Religious Life at Stanford, as part of Chabad at Stanford’s memorial service for Amir, March 29, 2004.
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Time is too slow for those who wait
Too swift for those who fear
Too long for those who grieve
Too short for those who rejoice
But for those who live in present – time is eternity
Hours fly, flowers die; but love stays.

–Henry Jackson van Dyke

Rabbi Dov Greenberg Remembers Amir

The following was delivered by Rabbi Dov Greenberg, Chabad Rabbi at Stanford, as part of a memorial service held for Amir on March 29, 2004, at the Greenberg’s home in Palo Alto, CA.
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This is an informal gathering – it’s not about speeches, it’s about friends coming together to mourn. I want to encourage everyone to be open and honest so we can honor the soul of Amir.

I first met Amir a few hours after he came to Stanford. Sunday morning, he knocked on my door. I knew about Amir because [his sister] Shoshana had emailed me, and Daniel Silverberg had let me know he would be here. I knew he just lost his father. So he told me about his background; how he used to be somewhat of a rebel. He was saying Kaddish for his Dad; that first day, he asked many questions–he wanted to know where the shul was, wanted to say Kaddish for his father…

One of our last times together was Purim – we were in the Treehouse, dancing, making l’chaims; Amir was there on the side smiling – he didn’t dance – he didn’t seem to want to. I was wondering why. Then on the way home, I realized he was right: Jewish law says that no dancing is allowed for a year when one has lost a close relative; Amir knew the law and that I had forgotten, and he didn’t say anything. He knew if he had said “I can’t,” maybe I would have been embarrassed; or it would have dampened others’ happiness. It was so classic Amir. He just smiled with a certain love and sensitivity.

We say the Kaddish when someone dies. Yitgadal v’yitkadash shimei rabah. The Kaddish glorifies and magnifies God’s name. Why do we say this now? In a sense, when someone is taken, its not like a few people are mourning. In a deeper sense, when a person is taken who reflects God’s image – when that person is taken, a certain love is taken; a certain piece of God – Kaddish tries to put back a piece of that part of God.

…Another story–We were building a large Sukkah – having a tough time!
Amir rides by. “Rabbi let me help.” He was behind in his studies. He was trying to help! I said, “you should go”…He said, “Rabbi I’m not leaving until the Sukkah’s standing.” I remember thinking, if only his mom and dad could see him now – they raised a real mensch.

To conclude, I want to thank Amir for something I never got to thank him for. We got involved with a project at Stanford called “Linking Hearts” to help kids with special needs. He started objecting to the project based on funding and analysis – he didn’t like the unprofessional approach we were taking. A few weeks ago, he sent a significant contribution to “Linking Hearts.” We sent a thank you note to him; a week and a half ago it came back – we got the address wrong. Rachel called Amir and we got the address and sent it to him. I doubt he ever opened it. And so I want to thank him now for being part of that process. We are now calling the project “Linking Hearts for Amir Lopatin” and there will be a plaque in his memory.

When the Torah talks about Aaron’s passing, it says that the whole House of Israel wept; when Moshe died it says that the House of Israel wept. It doesn’t say “whole.” Why? Aaron represented love and peace – and peace only has friends. Moshe brought truth – truth has friends and enemies – Amir in Hebrew is a combination of Moshe and Aaron – and he had both a tremendous knack for truth and honesty, and an incredible ability to love and bring peace…

One of the times Amir stopped by, he took out his palm pilot – it had many different melodies recorded on it… Mendel, my two-and-a-half-year-old son came in and played with it. I told Amir he probably shouldn’t give it to Mendel. When Amir left, [Mendel] wasn’t happy that his new toy had departed.

The next day, there was knock at the door, and there was Amir with a box all wrapped up… It was a tape recorder that you could record and sing into – and it was exactly what Mendel loved about the palm pilot. Amir was someone who truly wanted to change the world – and he somehow understood what a child wanted.

Paul Kim, Chief Technology Officer at SUSE

My deepest and sincere sympathies to the Lopatin family.
After getting this message, I just went back to my mail folders to recognize his previous works he completed while he was taking my EDUC391 class. I still have all of his writings in my mail folder. It is so difficult to accept that such an energetic and brilliant colleague is no longer with us. His wit, humor, and questions he presented in various discussions with me will be missed immensely.

– Paul

A great friend and roomate

For about half a year now Amir and I were roommates here at Stanford, and I still can’t quite accept the fact that he is gone so suddenly.
I really miss him, because we developed a great friendship, and living with him was fun. I got along well with other roommates, but with him I really connected, and we became involved in each other’s social lives. My sometimes reserved attitude after a tiring day didn’t faze Amir, rather he cracked it with some good-natured humor and we ended up having some profound conversations. We went to parties together, we went mountain biking, played some computer games, and genuinely took an interest in each other’s well-being. We even started sharing a few deeper thoughts about our girlfriends, however cautiously. I think all this is the result of Amir’s great personality and genuine straightforward attitude, and the respect I have for him as a person of moral integrity, critical and unbiased thinking, and tolerance towards others. On the surface, Amir and I have somewhat different cultural backgrounds, I grew up in Germany and am fairly liberal, and Amir said early on that he was somewhat conservative – yet surprisingly, I never felt the slightest bit of tension between us, indeed, I never before had a roommate as wonderful as him.

Amir – I lost a great friend in you, and I miss the occasional hollering each other’s name when we returned home – this is but one small example of how there were many things which you brought along, some of which were unlike me, but all of which enriched my life.

– Sebastian Osterfeld

Just a shout out to Amir…

I never got to talk to you, but you were in my Visualization class last quarter. I think we shared some cookies from the table, and I thought your insight and enthusiasm was very refreshing. I’m proud to have been a student alongside you.

Thanks.

The Daily Stanford Reports on Amir

GRAD STUDENT DIES OVER BREAK IN CAR ACCIDENT
By Michael Miller

March 30, 2004

First-year School of Education graduate student Amir Lopatin died last Thursday in a car accident near Las Vegas at the age of 28. Lopatin had just begun a doctoral degree in the Learning Sciences and Technology Design program.

Friends and acquaintances said Amir was a smart, inquisitive student and would be missed as much for his approach to life as for his educational contributions.

“He was extremely multidisciplinary,” said his brother Uri Lopatin. “For example, he was a computer genius who loved outdoor things.”

Amir was active in the Orthodox Jewish community at Stanford and was quickly making friends in his first few months on campus.

“He was a very bright, intensive person, and extremely friendly,” said Rabbi Joey Felsen, who works with Hillel. “He also liked to spend time with his thoughts.”

“The Orthodox Jewish community at Stanford is small,” Felsen added. “For us it is a very big loss.”

Amir grew up in Englewood, New Jersey, and completed a computer science degree at Brown University, where he was on the Ultimate Frisbee team. Later, while he was working in New York City, Amir founded the New York City Public Ultimate League, which he ran until coming out to Stanford.

“The league was my brother’s brainchild,” Uri said.

Just beginning to find his place at Stanford, Amir had already impressed professors with his intelligence and incisive questions.

“He had great enthusiasm, great intellectual integrity,” said Assoc. Prof. Dan Schwartz, who taught Amir. “He was bold to state his opinion and you always learned more when you talked to him.”

Amir had already made an impact on colleagues in his small doctoral program of about 15 students.

“I’m going to miss that he’s a straight-shooter,” said master’s student Paula Wellings. “He would tell you exactly what he’s thinking … and he was sweet.”

Amir was taking advantage of the sunny weather, driving back from Las Vegas with childhood friend Jonathan Wilson from New Jersey when his new Honda Element flipped. Wilson was in critical but stable condition at University Medical Center in Las Vegas.

“He said [Stanford] was one of the most beautiful places he’d ever seen,” said Joe Rosen, a research scientist who worked with Amir. “He was very happy here.”

“Not only will I miss him at a personal level, but at a professional level he will be greatly missed,” Rosen also said. “I’ve been doing this for 25 years and there were things I could learn from Amir.”

Amir had gone back to school to try to apply technology to learning, moving beyond the design and programming he had pursued in private industry.

“He wanted to help find ways of helping people learn,” said Uri. “He was enamored by the concept of education.”

A funeral for Amir took place on Sunday in Englewood, and a memorial gathering was held last night at Stanford. His family has set up a Web site at www.amirlopatin.com, which will have information about a foundation to be set up in his memory.

Amir is survived by his mother Sara, his older sister Shoshana and his older brother Uri.