The first of many

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Yesterday, I set the stage. For Thanksgiving- from me to my mentors, both alive and dead. Who shared their wisdom, their time, and their love to help me become who I am. But, not by making me a square box to fit a square hole. By helping me find the best (or at least pretty darned good) way to make my way.

My first mentor was my mom’s father, Sol Kuchlik. Sol left the town of Minsk (part of the Pale of Settlement) at a very early age and made his way to the “goldene medina”- the United States.

He managed to find his way to a circus, which paid him enough to survive. And, between those gigs, he managed to find his way on all sorts of adventures. But, that is not what this is about.

My grandfather was a self-taught guy. One who served his country in ways most of us never dream. The picture below should give you an idea. That’s former President Teddy Roosevelt and General (of the Armies) Jack Pershing.

Teddy Roosevelt, Jack Persing, and my grandfather
Teddy Roosevelt, Jack Pershing, my grandfather

My grandfather was the one who nurtured my love of learning. Or, maybe even made it be. Because from the time I can remember (that’s pretty close to age 2), he grilled me on arithmetic. And, not just how much is 2+2. Because he wanted the answer as fast as he dished out the questions.

As I got older, the numbers got bigger. And, bigger. And, a series of seven or eight large numbers. And, then, multiplication, division, and word problems. All with answers due NOW!

It turns out my grandfather didn’t always know the answers to the questions he threw at me. But, he knew me well enough to know if I were guessing or unsure. And, then, he’d be on me like white on rice. (Oh, and that was an expression he taught me, too.)

My grandfather also had a wonderful car, a full-sized Nash Rambler. Which he used to drive me to museums, to Coney Island, to the Canarsie Pier, all the while peppering me with math questions and information about the sights. (Including the now defunct Floyd Bennett Field on the border of Brooklyn and the Rockaways.)

Windmill candy
Windmill Candy

He never doubted I would make that artificial kidney. But, his Parkinson’s disease made it impossible for him to continue our talks, despite his L-Dopa, despite having his brain frozen by Dr. Irving Cooper (St. Barnabus). While I was exploding outward, his thoughts were locked inward. Forever.

He’s why I have a living will.

 

This is the week of thanks.   I am honoring my mentors.

The mentors I have known.

Sol Kuchlik- quiz and tell

Sue Katzman- My ID partner

Cary Rollner- A big brother of sorts

Arthur Lipper- The 3rd is the charm!

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8 thoughts on “The first of many”

  1. Your grandfather is why you were sensitive to the plight os Robin Williams. All 4 of you are mentors of mine. Do I have to personally have known someone for him to teach me what I need to know? Not at all. Your grandfather ‘s example teaches me to always challenge myself to find the right answer now. Since each new moment is now I keep working the puzzle until I have the right answer now.

    Thank you Sol Kuchlik.

    1. No, you don’t have to know them. But, the personal touch is what makes it possible to linger longer. (I still remember reading about Paul Ehrlich and compound 66. It gave me strength to keep on keeping on while I was designing my devices.)

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