Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 50 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
Boys and Men
Eight years ago, as the fifth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks approached, a small item in the New York Jewish Week caught my attention. A Bronx synagogue was dedicating a new Torah scroll. This is a big deal for a synagogue — a Torah scroll takes years to write, and costs tens of thousands of dollars — and this synagogue was hosting a large celebration, as is the custom. What caught my attention, though, is that this Torah scroll was being dedicated in memory of someone with a familiar name.
I went to Jewish summer camp with a kid named Andrew Zucker. But the Andrew Zucker I knew as a teen was fat and self-indulgent — and the Andrew Zucker in the article, a lawyer whose office was on the 85th floor of Tower Two, was a disciplined volunteer firefighter. The Andrew Zucker I knew from camp was a selfish little brat — whereas the Andrew Zucker in the article had given his life in the course of helping his colleagues, some disabled, get out safely. His firm had conducted an investigation and seven people credited Andrew with saving their lives.
All of the particulars lined up, though. I didn’t know the adult Andrew Zucker, but the two were one and the same.
At the time of the 9/11 attacks, Andrew’s wife was pregnant with a son. Today, that boy is about the age I was when Andrew and I were at summer camp together. If my math is right, his bar mitzvah is approaching, when he will read from the Torah scroll for the first time. I expect it will be the scroll dedicated to his father’s memory.
Others can, and have, written better tributes to Andrew Zucker than I ever could. He was apparently a passionate advocate, and we can only imagine what he would have accomplished had his life not been cut short. His is a remarkable example of heroism and self-sacrifice. But for me, his memory carries that personal something extra: I am deeply humbled too, by the power of growth and change. Whether it was Andrew or me who changed, I’m no longer sure.
Image Credit: Newsday.
Published in General
Lovely post and tribute, thank you. I wonder, if you count up the number of people who knew someone whose life ended on that awful day, how many hundreds of thousands you would find.
Ken Waldie. http://www.forukenny.com/ (links still not working for me).
Bethel Park High School, 1973.
I’d like to acknowledge the 3,000 people comprised of rescue workers and just plain civilians I did not know. The 19 hijackers responsible for this are, of course, excluded.
A moving and fitting tribute, SoS! “May his name be for a blessing…”.
SoS, thanks for the post. Too bad it had an occasion to be written.
“But for me, his memory carries that personal something extra: I am deeply humbled too, by the power of growth and change.”
Me too, Son of Spengler, me too.
Thank you for this window into Andrew Zucker’s life and death.
Well done. A testament to why murder is unforgivable, cutting a life short and robbing people the time to become who they are meant to be.
Lovely, SoS. Thank you.
As you stated and Boomerang iterated, your statement that “I am deeply humbled too, by the power of growth and change” is deeply meaningful.
Seven people. Can you imagine saving seven people’s lives in one morning? Blessings on his memory, and on his family.
Remarkable man.
Thanks for posting this even though it made my eyes want to cry.
A special thanks to the editor who added the picture!
SoS,
If you want, this would make an appropriate Hero Post. Just put September 18 in the title someplace. It is up to you.
Thanks, but I have a separate Hero Post in the works.
Looking forward to it.
My guess is that both of you grew over the years and clearly (based on your beautiful post) became honorable people. And you can speak to his transformation, which reflects on your own.
Seven people saved one horrible morning. There is some powerful symbolism here. The Hebrew word that means to swear a covenant is based on the Hebrew word seven. Andrew Zucker kept a promise that morning, a covenant to save as many as he could when the world was literally collapsing around him. A promise known only to him and God in that chaotic moment. Andrew Zucker, good and faithful servant, may you rest in peace.
The Talmud (M Sanhedrin 4:5) relates the warning that would be given to witnesses in capital cases during Talmudic times (emphasis added):
Thanks for sharing this SoS.
Wonderful post.
Great piece. Well said.
Thank you for this post. Very well said.
Andrew’s life is a perfect example of what I try to remember when I see or hear of awful things being done to others: There are more of us than there are of them.
Meaning there are more good people than bad, to put it in simple terms. The good ones, like an Andrew, aren’t celebrated or pointed at in life, because they are just living their life, one day at a time, and quietly doing things that other people can’t or won’t do (like becoming a volunteer firefighter).
For the one evil thing done on that day, an enormous and catastrophic evil, think of the millions of good things that happened, on a small scale, all during that day and for every day after, all around our country and the world.
There are more of us than there are of them. There always will be.
As a teacher this is what keeps me going, because the world long ago would have collapsed if my Freshmen never matured into something better.