While I was publicizing my blog on Facebook yesterday, I was dumbstruck when I saw a note appear. Very short- very unsweet. “it was a pleasure knowing you u were a true inspiration to us all rip Elliot Richard Dorfman you will be missed“.

I had written recently that too many of us can detail every headwind that impeded our progress, but rarely recount those tailwinds that helped us reach our destination. That’s not my style- even to the point of acknowledging the efforts of those who might have provided barely a puff behind my back. Because I’d rather be inclusive than exclusive.

But, Elliot was someone different. I met Elliot when he was all of 17. He was a dreamer. Looking to make money as a counselor, so his college life would be a little easier. And, he spent time with this 8 year old, teaching me to play the piano. Helping me project my voice better (I’ve always had respiratory issues). He created a musical revue for me- as well as a sci-fi (and political) musical- in which I could star. He chased after me when I ran away from Camp Pokono-Ramona- often. He made a difference in my life.

I have always remembered that summer. I was coalescing my thoughts and goals to become the chemical engineer that would invent an artificial kidney. Elliot didn’t think it was crazy. (Of course, in retrospect, he was only 17- and he planned to be a dramatist and a novelist. We all had crazy dreams.)

Our paths never crossed again. Until some 52 years later. Thanks to the ‘miracle’ of Facebook.

Where Elliot told me he knew I developed my kidney device. He knew I wrote a few books and plenty of papers. Where I told Elliot that I knew he taught, that he performed at Carnegie Center, and that he wrote a slew of short stories.

He was most proud of the slews of kids (he taught in the NYC school system for more than 3 decades- theater arts and music) that he helped propel to their dreams- in theater, in dance, in orchestra, even a few authors.  (Given the time and effort he spent with me, I am certain they garnered the same sort of benefits from Elliot’s attention.)

Once Elliot retired as a teacher, he began writing novels- finishing six of them.
Elliot managed to do what he set out to do, too. He was a teacher, an actor, a pianist, a theater director, and a producer. And, when asked a few years ago what he hoped would be on his tombstone, he readily answered … “He respected all living things and gave 100% of himself to others.”

I certainly hope that’s what his son chooses for the gravestone, too.

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