Features
Shindico celebrating 50th anniversary this year – the Sandy Shindleman story
By BERNIE BELLAN Anyone who has ever driven through Winnipeg is bound to have noted the very many buildings – including strip malls, shopping centres, office buildings, and apartment buildings, that bear the name “Shindico”.
This year marks the 50th anniversary of the founding of Shindico. While its name may be familiar to most Winnipeggers, there’s not a lot that’s been written about how Shindico came to be.
Recently I had the chance to speak with Shindico founder Sandy Shindleman who, now 68, started Shindico when he was only 18.
Anyone who knows Sandy is familiar with his wry wit – and often self-deprecating style. In many ways his story is similar to the stories of many other self-made entrepreneurs within Winnipeg’s Jewish community.

Born in a small town – in this case Portage la Prairie, Sandy was one of three brothers, (the others being Robert and Daniel). The brothers’ parents, Eddie and Claire (née Abells), are both deceased, Eddie having died in 1998, while Claire died in 2019. Eddie’s brother Jack, who worked with Eddie in the grocery store that Eddie owned in Portage (known as Greenberg’s Grocery), passed away in 2020.
Eddie Shindleman’s own father came to Canada in 1912 – from Ukraine (which was then part of Russia, Sandy reminded me.) Claire’s parents were from Belarus. Like many other Jewish immigrants, Sandy’s grandfather went into the cattle business – which Eddie Shindleman remained very much involved in, operating an abattoir (slaughterhouse) in Portage for many years.

Sandy recalls his years growing up in Portage with fondness. There were about “25-35 Jewish families in Portage,” he recalls, many of whom had arrived there after World War II.
The grocery store that his father ran was actually purchased from Eddie Shindleman’s brother-in-law in 1967. Prior to that Eddie had managed the store. As well, Claire and her brother owned a motel in Portage, the “Westgate Inn,” which remained owned by the Shindleman family until this month.
I asked Sandy about the spelling of the name “Shindleman.”
Shouldn’t it be spelled “Shindelman,” I wondered?
His father misspelled it, Sandy said. It should have been “Shindelman,” not “Shindleman.” I asked whether “shindel” meant something in Yiddish. He answered that the family thought it meant “roofer,” but when I checked, the word “shindle” actually means scissors in Yiddish.
While Sandy did work some in the family grocery store, he also had occasion to help his father with the abattoir – which leads to a great story I’d first heard Sandy tell back in 2018, when I had invited him to speak to a group that I had helped start at the Rady JCC (along with Tamar Barr), known as the Jewish Business Network.
The story of the bull and “old man Schweitzer”
When I spoke to Sandy again recently, I invited him to repeat that story because it was both funny – and insightful.
The story goes like this: “I was 14 years old. The store was open till nine o’clock on Friday.” One Friday, on a June evening, after the store had closed Sandy’s father asked Sandy to go out to a farm owned by someone Sandy knew only as “old man Schweitzer.” (He never did find out Schweitzer’s first name, he told me.)
Schweitzer lived on an 80 acreage farm, Sandy continued, but he didn’t grow anything. He didn’t even have any cattle or chickens. All that he had was a bull and he wanted to sell his bull to Eddie Shindleman.
But old man Schweitzer didn’t drive. He didn’t own a truck. All that he owned was a tractor, Sandy said.
“He drove into town and he shopped at my dad’s store on a tractor because you didn’t need a driver’s license to drive a tractor. And as far as I know, you still don’t. But the tractor was open – like it didn’t have a closed cap.”
Now, at the time, Sandy was only 14 years old. Here he was, being asked to drive out to a farm – and pick up a bull. He said that he already knew how to drive a truck (even though he wasn’t legally supposed to be able to do that), so he went to Schweitzer’s farm in a five-ton truck, along with a hired hand who worked in the abattoir.
Eddie had given Sandy a blank cheque to take with him. Eddie had told Sandy to offer Schweitzer a fair price for the bull and not to try and take advantage of him. Sandy said he looked the bull up and down and offered Schweitzer $420 – which Schweitzer accepted.
So, Sandy and the hired hand loaded the bull on to the truck – which was quite a job, since it turned out the bull weighed 1400 pounds.
It was past dark when Sandy got back to Portage. “I drove by the store. My dad came out and climbed up on the truck and looked at the bull. And he said, ‘How much did you pay for it?’ I said ‘$420.’
“And he didn’t say good job, bad job, nothing.”
Now, Sandy had thought that his father wanted the bull for slaughter, since it was June and Eddie was going to need a lot of ground beef tor the upcoming Portage fair. But when Eddie took a look at the size of the bull, he realized it was too big for him to slaughter. “It would have broken the hoist,” Sandy explained.
Instead, Eddie decided to ship the bull to Burns Meats in Winnipeg.
“We had a special relationship with Burns Meats,” Sandy explained. “We provided a lot of their kill on a weekly basis. And so they treated us well. And we always sold things dressed weight. So it didn’t matter if the thing was full of water, it was dressed weight on the rail.”
Another week went by, and Burns Meats had sent a cheque for the bull. It was for $1,000.
Eddie didn’t say anything immediately when he saw how much the cheque was for.
Sandy said though, that later that day, when “there’s a lull in the store at six o’clock – when everyone’s eating dinner…my dad said, ‘What did you think of the bull sale?’ I said, ‘Well, I think I should quit school. I’ll buy a bull or two a week. And I’ll make more than you’re making standing here in the store.’
“ ‘Yeah.’ he said, ‘Could you have bought it for $350?’ I said, ‘Should I have?’
“He said, ‘no.’ He said, ‘What if old man Schweitzer didn’t take your offer and shipped the bull himself?'”
Eddie did some figuring how much it would have cost Schweitzer to ship the bull and came to the conclusion that Schweitzer would have “got about $780, not $420.”
So he told Sandy to go back to Schweitzer’s and write him another cheque for $400.
Sandy said that when he went back to Schweitzer’s, “I didn’t know that old man Schweitzer had hair because I’d never seen him without” the white hard hat he always wore.
But, he said to Schweitzer: ” ‘Mr. Schweitzer, I made a mistake on the bull. I misjudged the weight. And I have a check here for you.’ And I slid the check across his round table.”
Schweitzer though, said that instead of accepting the cheque he wanted to sign it right back over – and use the money instead as credit for groceries in Sandy’s father’s store.
But when Sandy returned to the store with cheque in hand, as he described it: “My dad is in the corner at the store, leaning over looking out the door, and I see he’s tearing up the check that I gave him. And I said, ‘Why are you doing that? He said, ‘Well, let Trudeau pay for half his groceries.’ “
The moral of the story though – and one that Sandy says has stuck with him throughout his business career, was “I realized that we were succeeding. These were customers. We succeeded by helping others succeed.”
Sandy ventures into real estate at age 18
How Sandy Shindleman came to be involved in real estate is another good story. As he tells it, there was a certain real estate salesman in Portage by the name of Danny Maxwell. According to Sandy, Maxwell told him he had to work only a couple of hours a week in order to make what was a pretty good living, so the idea of venturing into becoming a real estate salesperson had great appeal for someone who was still a teenager.
As he says, “it seemed like an easier way to make a living than what we were doing – standing in the store, carrying bags of flour, sacks of potatoes and cutting meats, et cetera – and kind of being stuck in one place. So, it seemed to me that that was something that should be explored.”
Sandy wrote the real estate licensing exam while he was still in high school. The exam was proctored by the Yellowquill junior high school principal (which was, by the way, not the junior high school Sandy attended).
With real estate license in hand, Sandy decided to make the big move to Winnipeg – on his own.
His first sale, he says, came courtesy of Zivey Chudnow, who owned a building in the Inkster Industrial Park (at 11 Plymouth; it’s now an Amazon warehouse) that he wanted to sell.
Sandy explains that he got to know Zivey when Sandy was only five years old and “used to shag golf balls for him” in Clear Lake.
But, that first successful foray into the real estate business did not lead to a whole series of other successes. As Sandy notes, “after that, I couldn’t make another sale because who’s going to buy anything from an 18-year-old farmer who doesn’t know anything about real estate? In commercial real estate, your buyer knows more than you and the seller knows more than you, but to sell a house, you know, what do I know about a house? I lived in a house. That was about the extent of it.”
So, he thought he might have better luck trying to sell farms. After all, he grew up in Portage and knew a lot about farms. That, too, didn’t pan out: “I wasn’t that successful selling farms. I put an ad in the paper to attract buyers and I tried to sell farms,” but without any success.
Instead, he decided to try his luck at buying some properties himself. “I bought some commercial buildings in Winnipeg and Portage – old buildings, you know, two suites upstairs that shared a bathroom and, you know, old grocery stores that were junk. One of them is still standing, 618 Saskatchewan Avenue West. The other ones aren’t. They fell down, I imagine.”
Things started to change for the better though when Sandy (who, by this time was joined by his older brother Robert) saw an empty Co-op store at 1068 Henderson Highway. Next to it, he says, were “a library, car wash, a Dairy Queen, and a gas bar.” The Co-op owned everything, and Sandy decided to make an offer to purchase what is now known as Rossmere Plaza from the Co-op, which was accepted.
Shindico begins a long and successful relationship with the Akman family
The purchase was completed with the Akman family, and the project was managed and run by Shindico (Sandy says the development was originally built by the Simkin family in the 1960s.) For Sandy, making that first major acquisition proved to be the beginning of a long relationship with the Akman family – something that eventually ended with Shindico acquiring Akman Management in 2023 from Danny Akman.
It was not long after that Sandy saw another opportunity when an empty Loblaws store on Pembina Highway was also for sale. As he says, it was around 1982, and the market for retail was “dead… There were a lot of experienced people that did office leasing, industrial, land, and apartments But retail – there was no glamour in that, so it wasn’t crowded.”
I asked how he financed those early acquisitions? Sandy explained that there were a lot of trust companies at the time – almost all of which have disappeared, but they were willing to lend him money. His approach, he noted – and it’s been his approach throughout his business career, he said, is to “work backwards. I find out how much rent something could produce. And then how much would I have to spend to get that rent?
“Do I have to build a building? Do I have to renovate the building and buy the building? And would the rent allow me to borrow most of the money? Then I would know how much I could pay for it.”
In addition to the trust companies, there were a lot of other “small lending institutions” around that time, he said. Lending “was a competitive business” and Shindico was forging a reputation as a prudent manager with a sophisticated leasing platform, attractive to market tenants. Sandy noted, for instance, that in the early years a lot of the properties Shindico developed were formerly gas stations because gas stations were “closing at that time. The lots were too small for the kinds of uses that they (service stations) have now.”
Sandy also pointed out that a lot of the over 180 properties that Shindico has owned in Canada and the United States over the years, have had the same tenants, such as Domino’s Pizza and Macs Milk Stores. Shindico still owns and operates over 160 properties in Canada and the United States, he added.
But, as Shindico grew, it began to branch into other areas of real estate beyond strip malls. Later on in its growth, Shindico also began Big Box development with companies, such as Walmart, Best Buy, Costco, Real Canadian Superstore, Ashley Furniture, Sobeys, and Safeway. Shindico has also been active in the Tenant Representation business, finding suitable spaces for business like Sobeys, Starbucks, Boston Pizza, Popeyes Chicken and several more. Examples include Grant Park Festival and Grant Park Pavilions (on Taylor Avenue), which are continually expanding. Shindico’s most recent success has been to bring Costco to its Westport development in Winnipeg. This is a much needed fourth store in Winnipeg and will serve all of Western Manitoba, and bring an exciting mixed use development to the area.
A key milestone for Shindico was diversifying into the acquisition and management of apartment buildings in 1984 when it purchased: Number One Evergreen Place – where Sandy and his wife Diane lived for a time.

More recently Shindico has developed purpose built apartment buildings, starting with the Taylor Claire on Taylor Avenue (named for the Shindleman brothers’ mother), followed soon thereafter by the Taylor Lee (named after their good friend and contractor, Robbie Lee) just down the street. Sandy says there will be more apartment buildings on Taylor Avenue in the future.
I asked him why Shindico waited so long before it began moving into the building of apartment buildings? He answered that “I didn’t have the money. You need a lot of money. You know, you’re not pre-leasing them. I can’t get you to sign a lease for three years from now.”
Always cautious in his ventures, Sandy said that for years he also had wanted to get into the personal storage business. “I wanted to be in personal storage probably for 25 years,” he said, “but I couldn’t figure out how to get the equity to build one because again, you don’t sign a lease three years in advance for your personal storage. You can’t pre-lease it. You have to learn that business and learn the market before you could” get into it. But Shindico now owns two personal storage locations – one in Transcona and one on Waverley.
Shindico’s many generous contributions to Winnipeg…and Portage
If I had wanted to write a story detailing all the many facets of Shindico’s business, however, this already very long story could have gone on for many more pages – and even though I suppose anyone reading it might seem like it’s really just a promotional piece for Shindico, I would argue that Shindico is one of Winnipeg’s truly great success stories that doesn’t seem to get very much recognition in the media.
Shindico and the Shindleman family are proud supporters of the communities in which they live, work, and play. Through generous donations to the Health Sciences Centre Foundation and investment in the Shindleman Aquatic Centre in Portage la Prairie, the Willow Tunnel at Assiniboine Park & Zoo, The Canadian Museum for Human Rights and Edward Shindleman Park in Winnipeg, they continue to support important initiatives that are close to their hearts and provide access to great spaces for all to enjoy.
Shindico has produced a very slick four-minute video, which can be viewed on YouTube and the Shindico website, that highlights the tremendous growth that the company has undergone in its 50 years of existence, but my interest in writing stories that have a business component is to try and shy away from analyzing financial aspects that might make one business more successful than another. Instead, I’ve always been more interested in individuals’ personal stories – and what made them tick.
Sandy’s trip to Russia in 1991 – when Russia was in total upheaval
Since Sandy Shindleman is such a great story teller (which I first learned when I heard him at that Jewish Business Network meeting eight years ago), when I spoke to him for this story I asked him to repeat a story he had told about a trip he took to Russia back in 1991.
Sandy has often been called upon to give lectures about commercial real estate in a great many different cities, but it was that trip to Russia which might be the most memorable of any of his many trips.
Readers might recall that 1991 was one of the most turbulent years in Russian history. Mikhael Gorbachev, who was Soviet President and General Secretary of the Communist Party at the time, had announced that there were was to be a free election in what was then still the Soviet Union, but chaos was descending upon Russia as old-line Communists were reluctant to cede power and the pro-democracy forces, led by Boris Yeltsin, were anxious to democratize the country.
Sandy had been invited to give a lecture on commercial real estate by someone from within what was by then known as the Russian Federation (although he says he’s not really clear where the invitation came from). He recalls taking a flight from Montreal to Paris, then on to Moscow, where he was joined by two other guys who were also supposed to be giving lectures on real estate.
But, as Sandy describes it, “I landed and the other two men were there. And I didn’t realize that they were both former CIA guys, because they spoke Russian.”
All hell was breaking loose in Moscow at the time, but Sandy says he was totally oblivious to what was happening. “I didn’t know what was going on. There’s no television, there’s no Tom Brokaw explaining to us what’s going on. Bernie Bellan isn’t writing about it. There’s just a bunch of people running around, and we really didn’t know what we were looking at.”
I asked him whether he ended up giving a lecture? Sandy says he did, but “we were supposed to have simultaneous translation, which we didn’t. We had a guy – Vladimir, who was supposed to help,” but Sandy says he doesn’t really know what Vladimir’s role was.
Shindico moves into the construction business
Getting back to the current moment though, given Shindico’s tremendous growth, I wondered what might lie ahead for Sandy Shindleman. He says that the management of the company is in excellent hands, with Alex Akman now Chief Operating Officer, Leanne Fontaine, Chief Financial Officer, and Justin Zarnowski, In-House Legal Counsel.
That brought me back to asking about Shindico’s acquisition of Akman Management in 2023. According to a press release issued at the time, Akman Management portfolio consisted of “1,200,000 square feet of property across 1,000 multifamily units and 18 commercial assets.” The integration of Akman Management resulted in “a 42% increase in staff at the Shindico Group of companies”, and Sandy says “it was great to acquire a like-minded family style company made up of folks that you would want to have lunch with”.
The year 2023 was also an exciting one for Shindico in that it marked the founding of SNR Construction Ltd, a general contracting division in the Shindico Group of Companies. SNR recently completed an 84,000 square foot warehouse for Shindico in the St. Boniface Industrial Park, and is working on a wide array of multi family and retail projects across the Shindico portfolio.
Considering how successful Shindico has been, I wondered whether Sandy ever thought of taking Shindico public and allowing investors to buy stock in it?
Sandy says he’s not interested in going public, saying “we’re a family office, family business – Alex, Justin and Leanne and others. We’ve got a, a kind of a management group of at least a dozen… We’re just a small company…we can have the leverage of running real estate.”
By the way, Sandy’s brother Robert, Executive Vice President of the Shindico Group of Companies, is an important part of the organization, overseeing property development, operations, and management. Sandy’s wife, Diane, is also very involved in the businessm- as Executive Vice President, Finance. Their daughter, Annie, a graduate of Gray Academy, is currently enrolled in the Asper School of Business. “Perhaps, one day, my daughter might join us,” Sandy said, but in the meantime, as he says in the 50th anniversary Shindico video on YouTube, his goal for Shindico “for the next 50 years is supporting and leading all our professional management to grow.”
Features
K-tip placement at Sets on Corydon
Precision K-Tip placement: Where art meets ultimate hair engineering. ✨
Every strand is custom-blended to achieve seamless movement, zero detection, and absolute freedom (yes, even high ponytails on day one). Precision styling takes patience and technical mastery—the result speaks for itself.
.
Features
Israel pavilion ambassadors – then and now
By BERNIE BELLAN Given that Folklorama is on again and the Israel pavilion – Shalom Square, is in full swing, I thought it timely to resurrect an article I first posted to this website in August 2023.
But before reading that article, I wanted you to see who this year’s ambassadors are for Shalom Square:

It was back in 2023, however, that I set out to answer a question that I had asked our readers to help answer: Where was the very first Israel pavilion located? Some readers had thought it was the Golden Age Club, which used to be located on Pritchard and Salter. But others weren’t so sure. Here then is what I wrote back in August 2023 – when, with the help of a librarian at the Winnipeg Public Library, I was able to solve the riddle of where the first Israel pavilion was located:
It was earlier in August 2023 that I had raised a number of questions about the history of the Israel pavilion at Folklorama.
Among those questions were: Where was the first Israel pavilion located and when did the Israel pavilion actually become a permanent fixture in the YMHA on Hargrave (before moving to its current home in the Asper Campus)?
As part of my search for answers to those questions I turned to David Cohen, who had long been the coordinator of the Israel pavilion when it was located on Hargrave, but who didn’t step into that role until 1975.
David thought that the Israel pavilion hadn’t moved to Hargrave until 1974, but he wasn’t sure where the first Israel pavilion had been located.
I tried to find information using the Winnipeg Public Library online digital archive. In case you didn’t know, anyone with a library card can access the library’s online archive. You can also have access to newspaperarchive.com through the library’s digital archive. Newspaperarchive.com is an invaluable reference tool for journalists especially – or anyone wanting to access old newspaper archives, for that matter, but ordinarily you would need a subscription to newspaperarchive.com in order to use it. For some reason, however, the search function in the Winnipeg Public Library’s digital search engine didn’t produce results when I entered the word “Folklorama.”
As a result I called the Winnipeg Public Library for assistance and received great help from someone by the name of Louis-Phillipe. After taking my information, Louis-Phillipe phoned me to say that he had found out that the library had compiled a file of press clippings related to Folklorama going back to the very first year, 1970.
Further, Louis-Phillipe said, he had found a list of the 22 pavilions in that first year of Folklorama, along with where they were located. It turns out that the Israel pavilion was actually located in two different venues that first year: the Rosh Pina and the Shaarey Zedek.
The next day I also heard from reader Phyllis Dana, who confirmed that the Israel Pavilion had been in both synagogues. Phyllis also remembered that the only food served that first year was honey cake.
But the pièce de resistance came when I heard from reader Marilyn Breitman (née Stitz), who now lives in Calgary, when she phoned me on Monday, August 21 (which is when she received the August 16 issue of the paper with my story about Folklorama).
Marilyn told me that, not only did she remember that the first Israel pavilion alternated between the Rosh Pina and the Shaarey Zedek, she had actually been the female representative of the Israel pavilion that first year. Her title, Marilyn said, was simply “Jewish.”
But, as you might also recall, the entire confusion over where the first Israel pavilion was located began with an email I had received from Roz Greenfeld, who had written to correct my mistake when I had written in the August 2 issue that the Israel pavilion had been located in the YMHA from the very beginning.
Roz pointed out that, in 1971, the second year of Folklorama, the Israel pavilion was located in “Council House” or, as it was better known, “The Golden Age Club,” on Pritchard and Salter. How did she remember that? Roz was the female representative of the pavilion that year. Her title, as I found out was “Miss Judea,” she said.
So, if the Israel pavilion was located at both the Rosh Pina and Shaarey Zedek in that first year of Folkorama, and in the Golden Age Club that second year, where was it after that?
It was left to Jewish Heritage Centre of Western Canada archivist Andrew Morrison to come up with the answer to that question. Andrew informed me that the Israel pavilion did indeed move to the YMHA in 1972 and remained there for the next 25 years, until it moved to the Asper Campus in 1997.

There was a further footnote to the story, which is when I decided to try my luck with the Winnipeg Public Library’s online archive one more time. This time, rather than searching for “Folklorama,” I tried searching for old copies of both the Free Press and the Tribune from August 1970. I did manage to get results for the Tribune and when I entered a specific search within the Tribune I found a picture of all the famale representatives of pavilions – in bathing suits.
It turned out – and this was corroborated by both Marilyn Breitman and Roz Greenfeld, the female representatives had to parade in unison – in bathing suits, as part of Folklorama festivities. Each year, as well, a queen of Folklorama was chosen. Neither Marilyn nor Roz was made queen, both of them told me, although Roz was voted “Miss Congeniality.”
In addition to finding out about the early days of the Israel pavilion, I also learned that the Chai dancers were not regular performers at the Israel pavilion in those early years – as they eventually did become. Chai performers would dance only one night in those first years, with other entertainment the other nights.
I did enlist Andrew Morrison’s help once again and did find that Chai performed only one evening during the first few years of Folklorama – from 1970 to 1976. In 1977 Chai began performing every night of Folklorama, but there were other performers on hand as well, including Jerry Maslowsky and Rabbi Yosel Rosenzweig. In 1978 the Chai Folk Ensemble was the featured entertainment every evening; however, a notice that appeared in our paper did say that whistler Harvey Pollock would “be on hand” to entertain – whatever that meant.
While some may wonder of what earth shaking importance all this is, I ask: Isn’t it fun to look back in time – for just a little while, instead of worrying about more immediate problems, such as global warming, inflation, terrorist attacks in Israel, and whether Donald Trump will be president while he’s in jail?
Features
EINSTEIN, RITA AND ME
By DAVID R. TOPPER In the early 1960s, when I was an undergraduate student majoring in Physics at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh – there was only one girl in my advanced physics classes. As I learned later, nothing much had changed since the days of Einstein. When he was studying Physics at the Polytechnic in Zurich, the physics classes were all male – except for Mileva Marić, a Serbian who was the first girl in high school ever to take a physics course in the entire Austro-Hungarian Empire. Because Switzerland was the only place where women were admitted to university classes, she was there with Albert in Zurich.
She was very smart, especially in math, and also proficient at the piano. Born with a dislocated hip, Mileva had a slight limp, and the men in the class ignored her – except for one, Albert. They became a couple and eventually married.
Back to me in my university physics classes – where it seems that little had changed for over sixty years. In my advanced classes there was only one girl. Her name was Rita. She mainly stayed to herself. Majoring in Mathematics, she took all the advanced physics courses available, right through the fourth year. In short, in those predominantly male classes, she was an anomaly – alone and ignored by her classmates.
Except me. No, I didn’t date her, yet I didn’t ignore her. During those undergraduate years, I lived at home and took a bus or a trolley to school five days a week, leaving early in the morning. The university is in downtown Pittsburgh. Walking to the campus, I first went to the Physics Department, using it as my base. From there I went to my other classes during the day. There was a small classroom in the Department that was almost always empty, especially in the morning. It could be used for individual studying or small group discussions and such. In the early morning, I was usually the only one there – except for Rita, who used it for studying, too. She often was there, even before me. Usually the conversation started by me saying something like: “Hi Rita, did you get the last problem in mechanics class homework?” Her response was invariably, “Yes.” We would go over it, with her finding my mistakes. We had an amiable relationship that never went beyond our interactions about physics – right up to the end of our university years. As far as I can remember, I don’t think I knew much about her beyond the classroom.
But one event, which I’ll never forget, stands out. It was during our last year of classes in a course on the theory of relativity. For the textbook the prof used a paperback edition of the original papers on the theory. Early in the course, we went through Einstein’s first paper of 1905 – step by step. On this particular day, the prof came in and said he had a problem with the next step in the paper. As we all sat with our books in front of us, he pointed to a certain equation where we ended in the previous class. In the next sentence, Einstein says that such and such follows. The problem for the prof was that he didn’t know how Einstein got that deduction. I looked at it, and didn’t have a clue either.
Just then, Rita’s hand went up. She said she thinks she knows how Einstein got it. The prof asked her to come up to the blackboard and show him. Rita did, and the prof said that she was right. I’m quite sure that – then and there – Rita got an A in that course, if not an A+.
That gives you some idea about Rita and my relationship with her at the time. Not a very significant part of my 4-year undergraduate years – except for this one event in a physics course.
Why then am I bringing this up now, so many years later? Here’s why.
I graduated with my BS degree in the fall of 1964. I then went to graduate school at Case Institute of Technology in Cleveland, majoring in Physics. (It’s now Case-Western Reserve University.)
When I moved there, I lived in a formerly swanky hotel on the edge of the campus, which was purchased by the university as a residence solely for graduate students. They called it The Graduate House. Eleven floors, the top 8 with suites for students, with one floor solely for female students. It was a radical experiment in co-ed living for the time.
My first day there, after getting my room and putting my things in drawers and so forth, it was late in the afternoon – and I was hungry. I had been told when I registered that the dining hall would open the following morning, but for now there was no food. However, on the third floor there were vending machines with sandwiches and such, so I went to find them.
Going down the elevator, exiting at the third floor, and walking down a hall – suddenly I heard my name called. “David, what are you doing here?” Turning around – there was Rita! It was quite a surprise for both of us. This tells you how minimally we interacted before; not even knowing that we both were going to the same graduate school.
I told her that I was majoring in Physics at Case. She, of course, was majoring in Math. After a chat about all this, I said that I was looking for the sandwich machines. She said that there was a diner nearby, and she was going there for dinner with someone else she had just met so I went, too. Thus, Rita and I reunited in Cleveland, now living in the same building.
In a short while, I made friends with a group of people in the Graduate House with diverse majors. Some were in various sciences, others in humanities. It was a lively group, with animated discussions on a range of academic topics, including politics, especially as the Vietnam War became the center of the news in the USA.
Rita was not a part of that group, but I did often see her. Being the eager student that I was, I was up early, getting to the university to study in the library before classes started. Coming to the dining room for breakfast, not long after it opened, I often saw Rita, too – all alone in a far corner. I took my tray and we had breakfast together. Except for that morning ritual, I seldom had any interactions with her.
Thinking about this now, I find the parallel morning rituals (first in Pittsburgh and then in Cleveland) a fascinating serendipitous episode in my life. The difference was that in Cleveland, we were not taking the same courses so we didn’t have to compare solutions to homework. We did talk about our respective courses, and interestingly a parallel appeared. By around mid-term of that first year in graduate school, we both were less than enthusiastic about what we were learning and, accordingly, were both thinking of not carrying on in our respective subjects.
For me it was Quantum Mechanics and the impossibility for us to know reality in itself. Everything was statistical, uncertain and almost esoteric. I found the uncritical attitude toward this world-view to be almost religious in nature. (I only learned later that Einstein felt the same way!)
For Rita, it was the same, despite the different fields. The math now was far beyond basic geometry, algebra and calculus. Topology, Group Theory, Galois’ Theory, and more – all culminating in Gödel’s Theorem, which asserts that all mathematical knowledge is inherently incomplete. It all was too esoteric for her. She knew that she was not going to get a PhD in mathematics.
We commiserated together, with another parallel in our unusual relationship, but with a difference. I still wanted to get my Master’s Degree and somehow still go on to get a job as a professor – that had been my goal in life ever since my first semester at Duquesne. Rita, however, was thinking of dropping out immediately and leaving university life altogether.
For me, this problem was resolved in my second year of Physics at Case, when I took a course taught by Martin Klein. Although he was a physicist in the Department, for many years he no longer was doing research in it. Instead, he was writing papers on the history of the subject – mainly involving Einstein, Boltzmann, Gibbs, Ehrenfest and others. Today those papers are paragons in the field. It was my extremely good luck that the department permitted him to teach such material for the first time.
I loved the course. I was enthralled by the topics – this was the way I wanted to learn physics, through its history. After getting my Master’s in Physics at the end of that year, I moved across campus to the History of Science Department. In another four years I had a PhD in the subject.
Back to early 1965: I tried to talk Rita out of dropping out, but she was adamant. The kicker was this: she really preferred numbers with $$$$ in front of them. Yes, she wanted to be an accountant. She didn’t want to waste any more time here, when she could be home getting her accounting credentials. As I recall, sometime before the spring of that year she went back to Pittsburgh. I’m sure she had an easy time getting her accounting licence and all that went with it. As she was very smart. My guess is that she was an excellent accountant and was very successful in that career.
I have no way of knowing. We didn’t keep in touch (honestly, I don’t know why not) and I can’t even remember her last name. All that I can recall is what I’ve written here. Nonetheless, I find these two interactions between Rita and me an interesting and pleasing tidbit about life and relationships – so much so that I deem it worthy of repeating here.
David R. Topper writes in Winnipeg, Canada. His work has appeared in Mono, Poetic Sun, Discretionary Love, Poetry Pacific, Academy of the Heart & Mind, Altered Reality Mag. and elsewhere.
His poem Seascape with Gulls: My Father’s Last Painting won first prize in the annual poetry contest of CommuterLit Mag – May 12, 2025.

