Features
A life snuffed short: 49 years ago a brilliant young med student by the name of Aron Katz drowned in the Whiteshell in the course of saving his own younger sister herself from drowning
By BERNIE BELLAN On July 21 I received an interesting email from someone by the name of Reid Linney that immediately aroused my interest.
Here is what Reid wrote: “Hi, I’m a member of St. John’s High School’s Class of 1969. We celebrated the 50th anniversary of our graduation in 2019 and embarked upon a fundraising effort for an annual scholarship. The scholarship honors our classmate, Aron Katz.
“In 1973 he gave his life while saving his sister from drowning.
“Aron was in med school at the time.
“Our class, and members of Aron’s family, raised enough money to fund an annual scholarship of $2,500.
“It’s awarded to a graduating student who shows academic promise and exhibits both personal courage and empathy for others.
“On Tuesday, August 16, at 9:00 am we’ll be meeting at the school to install a memorial plaque on the Alumni Wall.
“If you have any interest in joining us, please feel free to do so…
“Cheers,
“Reid Linney”
Reid’s email intrigued me. I admit though that I had never heard of Aron Katz, although he would have been only two years older than me at the time of his death. I responded to Reid:
“Hi Reid,
“This is a very poignant story. It reminds me of another story – also about a St. John’s student who died tragically around the same time (in 1971). Her name was Rebbie Victor. (She was shot by accident by another student in a prank gone terribly wrong because no one realized they were playing with a loaded gun.)
“I wrote about her in 2020 and that story really resonated with readers…
“Regards,
“Bernie Bellan
“Publisher,
“The Jewish Post & News”
Attached to Reid’s email was the text of the plaque that will be dedicated on August 16:
ARON KATZ
1951-1973
Graduating Class of 1969
Aron was an exceptional young man of great intellect and even greater courage, who in the summer of 1973 was about to begin his third year of Medicine at the University of Manitoba. He gave his life while saving his younger sister from drowning during a camping trip in the Whiteshell and was posthumously honoured for his heroism with Canada’s second highest award for bravery—The Star of Courage.
Incredibly bright, unselfish, kind and humble, Aron was the second youngest of seven children who grew up under very modest circumstances in an old wooden clapboard house on Alfred Avenue. He had an exceptional thirst for knowledge and was a valued member of St. John’s High School’s “Reach for the Top” team, a televised, academic quiz show in which the best and brightest from Winnipeg high schools competed. Aron made friends easily, loved sports and was a huge Jimi Hendrix fan. He dreamt of being a doctor one day in order to help others and had just completed the first half of his medical degree.
At their fiftieth anniversary reunion, Aron’s fellow graduating classmates from 1969 (Room 333 – The Theatre Room) decided to honour him in perpetuity with an annual scholarship in his name, recognizing a graduating student each year who best demonstrates academic promise and exhibits empathy for others; in particular, one who has shown extreme courage when faced with a significant challenge in their life. Donations were made by twenty-six members of that class, together with Aron’s five surviving siblings
Aron Katz left this world much too soon. May his memory and legacy last forever. God bless him.
The above photo from the 1969 St. John’s yearbook shows Aron Katz (seated, second from left), with the other members of the school’s Reach for the Top team, along with their two coaches.
The caption in the yearbook only gave first names and, while I recognized two of Aron’s teammates: Lenny Leven (seated to Aron’s left) and Ricky Kraut, along with Bernie Melman (standing, right), who went on to become vice-principal of Joseph Wolinsky Collegiate, I wasn’t sure who the “Harvey” in the photo was. After running an OCR program on the St. John’s yearbook, I discovered that Harvey was Harvey Koffman – who was the only Grade 10 student on the team.
I was also pretty sure that the “Mr. Carr” in the photo must have been Alex Carr, brother of Jim and Robert, but it was only after I confirmed that with Fern (Zamick) Carr, Alex’s wife, that I could write with assurance that it was indeed Alex Carr.
Interestingly, after I emailed Fern Carr, asking her about the photo, she responded with her own story about herself having been on the Gordon Bell provincial champion Reach for the Top team.
Here is what Fern wrote:
“Al taught at St. John’s from 1967 – 1999, and besides being Aron’s coach, was his chemistry teacher. I showed him the photo and it really brought back memories – thanks.
“You know, I was on the RFTT team (as a student from Gordon Bell) while Al was the St. John’s coach. We probably unknowingly were at the same tournaments together. Another coincidence is that Al’s Baba Leibe lived directly across the street from my baba and zaida on St. Anthony. We both visited our respective grandparents every Sunday, again though, before we knew each other.”
Reid Linney had also attached a brief clipping from the Canadian Press about Aron’s death:
“PINAWA, Man. (CP) – Aron Katz, 19 (Ed. note: he was actually 21), of Winnipeg, saved his 14-year-old sister Marian (Ed. note: her name was Miriam) from drowning Tuesday in Big Whiteshell Lake but lost his own life. RCMP said when the girl ran into trouble swimming, the youth pushed her to several other swimmers, then drowned.”
Once I finished reading Reid’s email, along with a couple of the attachments he sent, I set out about trying to learn as much as I could about Aron Katz. I’ve noted before that nothing resonates more with readers than learning of a young life – full of promise – snuffed out suddenly and totally unexpectedly.
Subsequently, I was able to find Aron’s obituary on newspaperarchive.com:
ARON KATZ
“On July 10, 1973 accidentally in Whiteshell Provincial Park, Aron Katz, aged 21 years, dearly beloved son of Mr. and Mrs. I. Katz of 497 Alfred Ave, and precious brother of Shirley, Dr. Saul, Matylda, Ann, Ronia (Mrs. Larry Epstein) and Miriam. Services were held July 11 at the Chesed Shel Emes and interment in the Hebrew Sick Benefit Cemetery. Aron was a third year student at the University of Manitoba Medical School. In lieu of flowers, contributions to a memorial fund may be sent to the University of Manitoba Medical School.”
I was also told that two of Aron Katz’s good friends were David Manusow and Gerald (Yosel) Minuk – both of whom had been schoolmates of Aron’s at St. John’s, also colleagues of his in medical school.
David Manusow told me that he had written a tribute to Aron on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of his St. John’s graduating class’s reunion. David sent me the text of his tribute:
Aron Katz
(1951 – 1973)
Written and delivered by David Manusow on Saturday, August 17, 2019
“This is dedicated to the memory of our dear classmate and friend, Aron Katz, who died accidentally in the Whiteshell on July 10, 1973 while saving his younger sister from drowning.
“It would be remiss of me to try to improve upon the eloquent tribute to Aron written by his sister Shirley that Danny (Bronstein) just read, but I would like to elaborate on some points, as well as share some personal reminiscences.
“Aron was the second youngest of 7 children, all academic stars, who grew up under very modest circumstances in an old, white 2-1/2 storey wooden clapboard house on Alfred Ave. (Many years later, I still recall Aron complaining that the sound of mice scurrying about in its walls interfered with his studying!)
“As you his classmates know, Aron was extremely intelligent, unselfish, kind and humble. He had a thirst for knowledge and acquitted himself well as a member of the Grade 12 ‘Reach for the Top’ team. He was also a huge fan of Jimi Hendrix and Cream.
“While we were friendly in high school, we didn’t really become close until university. We shared the same aspirations and took most of our pre-Med courses together. I can remember studying Organic Chemistry through the night with him out at the Fort Garry Campus, as well as a frigid winter evening in Kildonan Park triangulating stars for our Astronomy course. Because I didn’t have a car, Aron would pick me up in his family’s huge black 1955 Buick Roadmaster to write our exams.
“After we were both accepted into Medicine in the fall of 1971, we became even closer. We sat beside each other in lectures, and took all of our labs and spares together. We also car-pooled together that first year (along with Yosel (Minuk) and Morley Shatsky). At the end of that year, Aron bought a brand new Datsun 510 4-door sedan (navy on white) for the then-princely sum of $2,300.00. He was immensely proud of that car and loved driving it.
“With the demise of that car pool after first-year, Aron and I decided to ‘go it alone.’ “Always considerate and never one to complain, Aron travelled at least 2 miles out of his way in the opposite direction each day to take me to and from school. I have fond memories of spending the occasional Friday afternoon at the Balmoral Hotel bar with Aron, reviewing our ‘surface anatomy.’
“I can also recall when Aron and I, and his longtime sweetheart Lorraine Shapiro, celebrated after the Xmas ‘Comprehensive’ in 2nd year by going to the old downtown Met to see the movie, ‘The Stewardesses’ (in 3D, no less!). Unbeknownst to us, and much to our collective embarrassment, it turned out to be an X-rated pornographic movie that was subsequently banned. Incidentally, at least a third of our 2nd year Med School class happened to be there as well that evening, celebrating!
“Aron was an extremely good student, and at the age of 21, had just completed his 2nd year in the U of M’s Faculty of Medicine. He had spent his first and was just starting his second summer in the Medical Microbiology Dept. working on the Australia antigen/Hepatitis B virus. He enjoyed medicine and was looking forward to beginning his 3rd year in September, 1973.
“Always an avid camper, in early July Aron took his little sister Miriam camping at Big Whiteshell Lake and well, now you know all the rest. I received a call that evening from Morley Shatsky (who lived across from Aron) informing me that Aron had drowned. The next day, Aron’s only brother Saul contacted me, requesting that I be a pallbearer. It was the saddest, most emotional funeral I have ever attended.
“And thus it all ended. I would now ask that you all rise for a minute of silence to remember our dear friend and classmate, Aron Katz, a young man of great intellect and even greater courage, who left this world much too soon.
“May his memory and legacy last forever.
“Thank you.”
I also heard from Gerald (Yosel) Minuk, who told me that he had only a few things to add to what I had already gathered:
“Thanks for the opportunity to contribute to your story on Aron Katz (z”L) but I’m going to disappoint you. I’m afraid that over the past 50 years since his passing, only three of my memories remain.
“The first was as his classmate at St John’s high school where I remember being amazed (and somewhat envious) of the wide breadth and depth of his knowledge. That impression, which was shared by his classmates and the entire school, was supported by the fact that the success of the school’s ‘Reach for the Top’ team largely rested on Aron’s shoulders.
“The second memory was as a member of his university carpool where Aron would often recount with much pride the various accomplishments of his family (but never himself). “Aron was particularly proud of his older brother who I believe was in medical school at the time and went on to become a highly regarded emergency physician out east.
“Finally, as mutual members of the medical school’s Class of 75, I recall how sad it was to learn of Aron’s passing. Not only for his family but also for the discipline of Medicine itself. Aron was one of those fortunate individuals who had been gifted with both exceptional knowledge and compassion, attributes that are essential to becoming an exceptional physician.
“In closing, I might also point out the serendipity as to how Dr Eadie’s account of a drowning came to Reid’s attention. Shortly after my wife and I had purchased our cottage at Big Whiteshell lake in the early 1990’s, an elderly lady was going door to door selling an anniversary book of the lake that contained stories submitted by lake cottagers. I purchased a copy and it sat on our bookshelf for several years until my wife decided to thumb through it. On reading Dr Eadie’s submission, she asked if the story could be about my friend the medical student who had drowned while saving his sister that I had once told her about. My initial reaction was that it couldn’t be as I was under the impression that Aron had drowned at Winnipeg Beach or perhaps Gimli but on reading the story, I realized it might be Aron. So when Reid decided to pay tribute to Aron by establishing the Aron Katz Memorial Scholarship at St. John’s High School, I sent Dr. Edie’s story to Reid.” (Ed. note: Subsequent to publishing this story in the August 3 issue of The Jewish Post & News, Reid Linney was able to get in touch with Dr. Eadie’s daughter, Sheelagh. Sheelagh said that, while the story of Aron Katz’s drowning was eerily similar to the drowning about which her father wrote, it is almost certain that Dr. Eadie wrote about a drowning that occurred in 1975, not 1973.)
Features
The Torah on a Lost Dog: Hashavat Aveidah in a Modern Canadian City
A neighbour’s dog wanders into your yard on a Wednesday morning in May, dragging a leash and looking confused. You have a choice. You can close the door and assume someone else will deal with it, call the city, or take a photo, knock on a few doors, and try to find out where he belongs.
For most people in Winnipeg and elsewhere in Canada, that choice plays out in a flash of moral instinct rather than reflection. The hand reaches for the phone and the walk around the block begins. The neighbour, if it goes well, is at the door before lunch. The decision feels minor, but it matters more than it looks.
In Jewish tradition, the act of returning a lost animal sits at the centre of one of the oldest practical commandments in the Torah. Deuteronomy 22, near the end of Parashat Ki Teitzei, contains a passage that has become the foundation for an entire body of Jewish ethical law: “If you see your fellow’s ox or sheep going astray, you shall not hide yourself from them; you shall surely bring them back.” The verse goes on to extend this duty beyond animals to any lost property. “So shall you do with every lost thing of your brother’s which he has lost and you have found.” Then comes the line that has occupied rabbis for two thousand years: “You may not hide yourself.”
The Hebrew name for this mitzvah is hashavat aveidah, the returning of a lost thing. It is one of the more practical commandments in a tradition full of practical commandments, and the rabbinic literature surrounding it is unusually thick.
A small commandment with big implications
The reason hashavat aveidah occupies so much rabbinic attention is that, on closer reading, it sets a high ethical bar. The Talmud, particularly the second chapter of tractate Bava Metzia known as Eilu Metziot, devotes pages to questions a modern reader would immediately recognize. How long must you wait for the owner to claim the item? How hard do you have to look for them? What if the animal needs feeding while you search? What expenses can you recover, and what counts as fair? What if the item is too inconvenient to safely return?
The rabbis answer all of these. The answers are not always intuitive. The finder is obligated to feed and shelter the animal while looking for the owner. The animal must not be put to work for the finder’s profit. The owner, when found, repays reasonable costs but is not on the hook for unreasonable ones. If the search takes too long, there are procedures for what to do next, none of which involve quietly keeping what is not yours.
Underneath the legal detail is a moral assumption that is easy to miss in a hurried reading. The Torah does not say to return the animal if it is convenient. It explicitly forbids the act of hiding yourself, of pretending you did not see, of crossing to the other side of the street. The commandment is as much about the person who finds as it is about the animal that is lost.
What this looks like in 2026
Most people who encounter a stray dog in a Winnipeg neighbourhood today are not thinking about Bava Metzia. They are thinking about whether the dog is friendly, whether they should call the City, whether they have time. The instinct to help is usually present. The question is what to do with it.
The practical infrastructure for hashavat aveidah in this country has changed considerably in the last decade. A finder in Winnipeg in 2026 has access to a regional humane society, a network of local Facebook groups, neighbourhood newsletters, and a handful of national platforms that gather sightings and missing-pet alerts across more than 180 Canadian cities. The mechanism is straightforward. A clear photo and a location pin can reach the right owner within hours when the system works, which it usually does.
The most underused of these resources, in any community, is the simple act of posting a sighting. Many people who find a stray feel they need to first catch the animal, find it food, take it home, or in some way solve the problem in full. The rabbis would actually disagree with that framing, and so does modern pet-recovery practice. The first responsibility is to make the sighting visible. The owner is almost certainly already looking. The finder’s main job is to surface what they have seen.
For people in Winnipeg looking for a place to start, a practical guide for what to do when you find a stray walks through the basic steps. Take a clear photo, note the cross-streets and time, check for a tag, and post the sighting where local owners will see it. The work is small. The effect, on the owner who has been awake for two nights and then sees a photo of their dog with a phone number underneath, is much larger than the work itself.
The ethical centre of the commandment
There is a strain of Jewish thought that reads hashavat aveidah as a kind of training in noticing. The deeper commandment goes beyond returning what is lost. It asks the finder to be the kind of person who sees what is lost in the first place, who does not cross to the other side of the street, who does not pretend not to have noticed.
That reading lines up with another Jewish ethical concept that often gets paired with this one: tza’ar ba’alei chayim, the obligation to prevent unnecessary suffering to animals. The Talmud derives this principle from several places in the Torah, including the rest commanded for animals on Shabbat. The two principles overlap in the case of a lost pet. The animal is suffering. The owner is suffering. The finder is, briefly, the only person in the position to do anything about it.
In a small way, the entire Canadian volunteer ecosystem around lost pets, from neighbourhood Facebook groups to national platforms to the dog walker who recognizes a posted photo, is an example of this ethical structure in action. People do not necessarily think of it in those terms. The framework is there anyway, doing its quiet work.
A community-scale point
Winnipeg’s Jewish community has always understood itself as a network of responsibilities to others, the kind that get described as chesed when they are visible and assumed when they are not. The work of returning a lost animal sits comfortably in that frame. It is not heroic, does not make the bulletin, and is exactly the kind of small obligation that knits a community together when nobody is paying attention.
The dog in the yard on a Wednesday morning in May, leash trailing, is one version of the question Deuteronomy asks. The answer, then and now, is the same. Do not hide yourself.
Features
Basketball: How has Israel become one of the best basketball countries in Europe in the last few years?
When Israeli Deni Avdija became the first Israeli to be drafted as the highest Israeli draftee in NBA history in 2020 – then emerged as a key NBA wing in Portland, it was not so much the breakthrough it appeared to be, but a portent of things to come. Israeli basketball development has been decades in the making, and in recent years its clubs have made Europe take notice.
This is why Maccabi Tel Aviv, Hapoel Tel Aviv, and the national basketball team of Israel are now the subjects of serious discussion in European basketball. It is only natural that fans and bettors reading form, depth of the roster, and momentum would look at our Euroleague predictions and then evaluate how Israeli teams would fit into the continental picture.
A rich history: The Maccabi Tel Aviv mythos
The contemporary narrative dates back to before Avdija. Maccabi Tel Aviv won its maiden European Cup in 1977, beating Mobilgirgi Varese and providing a nation under pressure with a sporting icon. Tal Brody’s declaration: “We are on the map” became not just a quote, it became a declaration of Jewish confidence, Israeli strength and a basketball dream.
Maccabi turned out to be the team of the nation since it bore Israeli identity past the borders. Maccabi has been a cultural ambassador before globalization transformed elite lists into multinational conundrums. Its yellow jerseys were the symbol of excellence, rebellion, and identification for the Israeli people at home and Jewish communities abroad.
The six European championships for the club provided a benchmark that has influenced the Winner League and Israeli basketball. Children were not just spectators of Maccabi, they dreamed of Europe as something accessible. Coaches studied in the continental competition. Sponsors and broadcasters realized that basketball had the potential to be the most exportable Israel team sport.
The modern pillars of Israeli basketball’s success
The recent ascendancy of Israel is no magic. It is the result of history, astute recruiting, youth-building and pressure-tested league culture. The nation has made its size its strength: clubs find talent at a young age and enhance the potential with foreign professionals.
Nurturing homegrown talent: The Deni Avdija effect
The most obvious example is that of Avdija. He was a high-ranking contributor in the system of Maccabi Tel Aviv, was chosen as a teenager, and was picked number 9 by Washington in the 2020 NBA Draft. His career was a reminder that an Israeli prospect could be more than a local star; he could be a lottery pick with two-way NBA potential.
Israeli NBA player Omri Casspi had already opened that door, and Avdija opened it even further for the next generation. Their achievements captivated the expectations of youthful players in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Holon, Herzliya, etc. An Israeli teenager is now able to envision a path from youth leagues to the Winner League, the EuroLeague, and ultimately – NBA minutes.
It is that dream that has been followed by investment. Israeli clubs put more emphasis on skills training, strength training, and analytics, as well as international youth tournaments. The success of the national program in the face of the best of Europe has also helped.
A global approach: The role of international and naturalized stars
The other pillar of the Israeli basketball program is the openness of Israel to global talent. The Winner League has been an important destination, not a stopover, for American guards and forwards. Most come in with NCAA or G league experience and become leaders due to the fact that the league requires scoring, speed and tactical flexibility.
It is enriched with naturalized players and Jewish players, who are able to use the Law of Return to come to Israel to play. Inspired by legendary players like Tal Brody, current imports who can bond both professionally and personally with Israelis have provided teams with uncharacteristic diversity in their rosters. The outcome has been a mixture of Israeli competitiveness, American shot making, Balkan toughness, and European spacing.
Making waves in Europe: Israel’s modern Euroleague footprint
Even in challenging seasons, Maccabi Tel Aviv has remained the flagship team. Currently, Maccabi is out of a playoff spot in the EuroLeague, but Hapoel Tel Aviv has shot up in playoff discussion. That juxtaposition speaks volumes: Israel is no longer represented by one lone, iconic club. Its profile has expanded.
Nevertheless, it is true that the reputation of Maccabi in the EuroLeague does count. Menora Mivtachim Arena in Tel Aviv is one of the most intimidating arenas for EuroLeague teams to play in: loud and emotional. Recent security and travel realities have affected the usual home-court advantage but the name of the club is still a potent brand.
It is the reason why there is an interesting betting discussion within Israeli teams. The name Maccabi still retains a historical impact, but analysts also need to quantify the present defensive performance, injuries, substitution of venues and guards, and fatigue in the schedule. The emergence of Hapoel has provided another Israeli point of reference and markets have to regard the nation as a multi-club force.
What’s next? The future of Israeli basketball on the world stage
Sustainability is the second test. The Israeli national basketball team desires more serious EuroBasket performances and a future world cup. It requires Avdija types – fit and powerful, more domestic big men, and guards capable of playing elite defense to get there.
The pipeline is an optimistic one. Israeli schools are more professional, teams are bolder with young talents, and the Winner League is a test ground where potential talents have to contend with older, tougher imports each week. Not all players will turn into an Avdija, yet additional players ought to be prepared to participate in EuroCup, EuroLeague, and even NBA games.
To the Jews in the Canadian diaspora, the impact is not only sporting, it is also emotional. Israeli basketball brings pride, drama and a common language to the continents. To the European fan, it provides tempo, creativity and unpredictability. To analysts, it provides a sign that a small nation, with memory, ambition and adaptation, can rise to become a true basketball power. Israel has ceased to be the unexpected guest on the table of Europe. It is a part of it, season after season.
Features
In recent years, we have been looking for something more than a house in Israel – we have been looking for a home
For many Jewish families in the diaspora, Israel has always been more than a destination. It is the land of tefillah, memory, family history and belonging. But in recent years, many families have begun asking a practical question too: should Israel also become a place where we have a home?
Not necessarily immediate aliyah. Sometimes it begins with a future option, something good to have just in case, or simply roots with a stronger connection to Eretz Yisroel.
But what does it mean?
A Jewish home is shaped not only by what is inside the front door, but by what surrounds it: neighbours, synagogues, schools, parks, local services, safe streets and the rhythm of Jewish life. For observant families, these are not small details. They are the things that turn a house into a place of belonging.
This is not a new idea. It is a need that has helped shape Jewish communities in Israel before. The Savyonim idea is rooted in the story of Savyon, the Israeli community established in the 1950s by South African Jews who wanted to create a green, safe and community-minded environment in Israel. It was a diaspora dream translated into life in the Jewish homeland.
That idea feels relevant again today. Many Jewish families abroad are now making plans around where they can feel connected in the years ahead.
Recent figures point in the same direction. Reports based on Israel’s Ministry of Finance data showed that foreign residents bought around 1,900 homes in Israel in 2024, about 50% more than the previous year, with Jerusalem emerging as the most popular place to buy. In January 2026, foreign residents still purchased 146 homes, broadly similar to January 2025, even as the wider housing market remained cautious.
For Lior David, International Sales & Marketing Manager at Africa Israel Residences, part of the continued interest may lie in the fact that today’s residential projects are increasingly built around the wider needs of Jewish families abroad: not only buying a property in Israel, but finding a setting that can support community, continuity and everyday Jewish life. That idea is reflected in Savyonim, the company’s residential concept, which places the surrounding environment at the heart of choosing a home.
This can be seen in Savyoney Givat Shmuel, where the surrounding environment includes synagogues, parks, educational institutions, local commerce, playgrounds and transport links, and in Savyoney Ramat Sharet in Jerusalem, located in one of the city’s established green neighbourhoods.
For families abroad, these things matter. Jerusalem and Givat Shmuel are never just another location. They are home to strong Jewish communities, established religious life and surroundings that allow a family to imagine not only buying property, but building a Jewish home in Israel.
Together, these projects reflect a broader understanding: that for many Jews in the diaspora, the decision to create a home in Israel is not only practical, but rooted in identity, continuity and community. The Savyonim story began with a Zionist community from abroad that succeeded in building a real home in Israel; today, that same vision continues in a contemporary form.