Features
A deep dive into the lives of some shadier members of our community
By BERNIE BELLAN A few weeks ago I was contacted by a publicist for a publishing company, who asked me whether I’d be interested in obtaining a copy of a new book, titled Jukebox Empire: The Mob and the Dark Side of the American Dream?
Here’s what that publicist wrote: “This fall, Rowman & Littlefield is publishing a true crime book focusing on one of the key figures in the story of organized crime in the 20th century – Jukebox Empire: The Mob and the Dark Side of the American Dream by David Rabinovitch (publishing October 15). Rabinovitch, an award-winning filmmaker from Morden, Manitoba, unravels the story of his uncle William “Wolfe” Rabin, which takes him from the Canadian prairies to Chicago in the 1940s and Rabin’s invention of a jukebox. This is the first book to expose how organized crime infiltrated the jukebox industry and it’s an untold piece of criminal, cultural, and musical history. Rabin was the son of Jewish immigrants.
“Caught between the Mob and the feds in a plot to save the casinos in Havana from Castro’s revolution, Wolfe Rabin pulled the biggest money-laundering scheme in history, but his hubris led to the conspiracy falling apart in a sensational trial. At a time when there was a jukebox in every restaurant, diner, bar, barracks, arcade, and canteen, Rabin’s trajectory from inventor to promoter to outlaw is set against the Mob’s growing influence of the jukebox industry. In a world of music, machines, and money, popular culture and organized crime collide in this true story of invention and greed. Rabinovitch pieces together the puzzle that begins in Chicago and spans the casinos of Havana and the financial giants of Europe, leading to what the FBI called “the biggest bank robbery in the world.”
“Rabinovitch is a winner of Emmy, Peabody, and Gemini awards. His significant films include the documentary Politics of Poison and the mini-series Secret Files of the Inquisition. Jukebox Empire is his first book.”
Of course, the moment I read that email I was interested in reading the book. Here we have some of the essential elements of a story that’s perfect for this paper: A crime story with a Jewish character at its centre – who comes from Morden, Manitoba no less!
I immediately thought of historian Allan Levine, who’s written extensively about Jewish characters with sordid backgrounds – especially in the bootlegging business, and contacted Allan to ask him whether he’d ever heard of this “Wolfe Rabin?”
Allan said he hadn’t previously, not that is, until he was contacted by the author, David Rabinovitch, who asked Allan for some help.
After I began to read the book, however, I was again contacted by the publicist, who asked me to withhold writing a review of the book until October, when the book will be released to the public.
But, to whet readers’ appetites even further, here are some endorsements David Rabinovitch has already received in advance of the book’s actual release to the public:
“A fast-paced, colorful romp through a slice of the twentieth century American underworld”
-David Kertzer, Pulitzer Prize winner
“Jukebox Empire reads like a novel but the characters and events are real and chilling.”
-Peter Edwards, co-author, The Encyclopedia of Canadian Organized Crime
“It has everything: action, incredible characters, suspense, humor. Can’t wait to see the movie.”
-Fred Fuchs, producer, The Godfather, Part III
“A compelling story of family and crime that touches on key events of U.S. history in the 1950s and 60s”
-Scott M. Deitche, author, Garden State Gangland
“An eye-opening, informative, and fascinating book. Jukebox Empire is must-read.”
-Antonio Nicaso, author, Made Men, The Dark Mafia, Angels Mobsters & Narco-Terrorists
“A delightfully entertaining story of jukeboxes, money laundering, and stolen bonds.”
-Alex Hortis, author, The Mob and the City
“A unique combination of family memoir and investigative journalism.”
-Gary Jenkins, producer/host, “Gangland Wire”
“A tour-de-force account of the Mob’s growing infiltration into legitimate American industry and how it affected one man who was obsessed with power and money at all costs.”
-Joe Saltzman, Prof. of Journalism, Annenberg School of Communication, University of Southern California
I also asked David Rabinovitch whether readers could order Jukebox Empire in advance, so that they could obtain a copy as soon as it’s released.
David responded: The book “is available for pre-order online through the website www.jukeboxempire.com (Chapters Indigo in Canada) or readers should request it at their favourite bookstore.”
All this got me to thinking: Over the years, we’ve published quite a few stories about Jews with mob connections, and some of those individuals came from Winnipeg. Perhaps the story that elicited the most interest was one we published in 2015 by Martin Zeilig about a character by the name of Al Smiley. (You can still find that story on our website’s online archive. Just search for “Al Smiley.” in the “search archive” button on jewishpostandnews.ca)
Smiley, it turns out, was best friends with Bugsy Siegel (whose real name was Benjamin – and who hated being called “Bugsy.”) In fact, Smiley was sitting right beside Siegel – on his living room couch in his Las Vegas home, when Siegel was shot and killed by a Mafia hitman.
That story led to another story about a mobster with a Winnipeg connection who, it turns out, was actually related to me in a very distant way, someone by the name of Harry Altman.
In 2020 I wrote about someone by the name of John Novick in an article I wrote about the children of Jewish mobsters. In that same article I referenced Myer Lansky and his daughter, Sylvia, who was the subject of one of the greatest interviews Anna Maria Tremonti ever conducted when she was host of CBC’s “The Current.” (You can still listen to that interview on the CBC website.)
Finally, a few years back I happened to attend a Fringe show which was titled “Davey the Punk.” The creator of that show – and its sole performer, was singer Bob Bossin (who was a member of a well-known group called “String Band.”) The show was about Bob’s father, Davey Bossin who, while not a “made man” per se (Mafia parlance for someone who is accepted into the Mafia), but who was very “connected” and about whose background Bob Bossin knew nothing until years after his father had died.
What’s my obsession with mobsters, you might ask? Well, I don’t think I’m much different than a great many others when I say that I’m both fascinated and repelled by all these figures – and the fact they’re all Jewish only adds to my interest.
But, it got me to thinking – once again: Where are the stories about Winnipeg Jewish hoodlums from the North End? Even in Russ Gourluck’s masterful history of Winnipeg’s North End, The Mosaic Village, he only mentions two shady characters: Stanley Zedd, a well-known operator of gambling establishments, especially the Margaret Rose Tea Room on Osborne, and Bll Wolchuk, a major bootlegger in the 1920s.
So – to find out more about Jewish hoodlums of a bygone era, I turned to my most trusted source on the subject: Ernie Chisick, whom I first met at the Y reunion in 2019.
For those who don’t know Ernie – he is a raconteur of the first order and his own brushes with the law when he was younger only add to his mystique.
I sat down with Ernie one recent evening and asked him to repeat some of the fabulous stories he’s told me over the years about colourful North End characters with whom he crossed paths over the years. I was especially keen on hearing Ernie recite some of the nicknames of guys with whom he associated when he was younger.
The problem is, as Ernie explained, some of those individuals are still alive and, even if they’re not, they have kids and grandkids, so referring to them by their full names might not even be embarrassing, it might be potentially lethal for me!
I have attempted to reach out to one character in particular who, as Ernie described him, probably knows more about Jewish hoodlums… and criminals, from the North End of the 40s and 50s than anyone else alive, but even if that guy does get back to me, I rather doubt he’s going to want to see his name end up in the Jewish paper in Winnipeg. (I’m hoping that he will respond to my message and I’ll promise him full anonymity if he’s prepared to talk about his former friends – who weren’t quite boy scouts.)
Ernie though, has too many good stories not to at least refer to some of them here. He told me about a gambling club on Selkirk Avenue between Salter and Powers that was run by an individual who was known as “Montreal…..” (Again, I’m leaving out the surname because it’s a name that would be familiar to at least some readers.)
According to Ernie, that club had a lookout by the name of “Srulik Flaxman.” When Srulik would spot a cop coming, he would shout to the guys who were in the back room: “Watch out – it’s the football shoes kimmen!” (Why he referred to cops as “football shoes,” Ernie didn’t know.)
Here’s another story Ernie tells – about a character who went by the name “One-eyed Connolly.”
“They’re playing cards,” Ernie says, “and Connolly says he’s got to take a piss.” But before he gets up to go to the bathroom, he leaves his cards on the table, then takes out his glass eye, puts it on the table, and says to the eye: “Watch them guys; they’re all a bunch of thieves!” Apparently that so unnerved the other players, they sat there frozen in their seats, afraid of that well-known Jewish superstition: “the evil eye.” (But Connolly wasn’t Jewish. Can a non-Jew threaten someone Jewish with the “evil eye?” There’s a Saturday morning sermon for you, all you rabbis and would-be rabbis out there.)
With reference to Stanley Zedd and the Margaret Rose Tea Room, Ernie says that his father, Charlie, once said to him, “Take this to the Rosie (the nickname for the Osborne Tea Room) and ask for Stanley Zedd.” Charlie handed Ernie a paper bag (which, Ernie now says, unbeknownst to him at the time, contained betting slips. Ernie claims he was only an innocent 16-year-old. not yet wise in the ways of the world. Anyway, the statute of limitations protects him now.)
So, Ernie drove to the Tea Room and announced, when he walked into the room, “I have something for Stanley from Charlie.”
He was ushered into the back room where Stanley Zedd held court. “He was very nice to me and told me my father was an honourable man,” Ernie recalls.
Another time, Ernie says, he got a phone call from his father in the middle of the night.
“Charlie,” Ernie asked (Ernie says he always called his father by his first name), “what is it?”
“I’m in jail,” Charlie responded. (He didn’t say why.)
“In the morning,” Charlie continued, “give Roland Penner a phone call.” (Roland Penner would go on to become Manitoba’s attorney general, but at the time he was in partnership with Joe Zuken in the firm, Zuken and Penner.)
“So, I phoned Roland Penner’s office in the morning. I told his secretary who I was and she put me through immediately to Roland Penner.”
“Roland says to me, ‘You heard from your dad? The mounties made a raid in the middle of the night. Eighteen guys (from different cities) were charged with conspiracy to commit bookmaking.’”
“Roland says: ‘I’ve got something for you.’ “ He explained that the mounties took Charlie out in the middle of the night and it was quite cold.
“Your father wanted me to give you his gloves,” Penner continues.
“I put them on,” Ernie says, “and I feel a lump in one of the gloves. They were betting slips that could have been used as evidence in court.’
(Did Penner know that, I wonder? Ernie says he doesn’t know.)
“All the guys were taken to a lock-up in Calgary. Harry Walsh represented the three Winnipeggers,” Ernie continues.
“My dad explained that the Jewish boys were able to get kosher food to eat because one of the mounties was Jewish and he brought them deli.”
The Grey Cup was being held that week, Ernie says. “Charlie said he made $10,000 taking bets on the game” – while he was in jail.
Eventually, when the accused were brought to trial, they were all acquitted, Ernie explains.
“Walsh said they weren’t betting with each other; they weren’t in business together.” As a result, the conspiracy charge didn’t hold up, Ernie says. (If they had simply been charged with bookmaking, then the likelihood is that at least some of them, including Charlie, would have been found guilty.)
I don’t necessarily approve of Charlie’s behaviour. Rather, the stories about the less savoury aspects of Jewish lives don’t usually receive much attention in North American Jewish newspapers. (Some Israeli newspapers, in contrast, are not at all reluctant to publish extensive investigative pieces about the Israeli underword.)Yet, there are so many colourful stories to tell I thought I’d deviate from the Gerry Posner and Myron Love types of stories that extol the virtues of individuals who have led honest, hardworking lives to write about other less honourable fellows who, as the late Harvey Rosen used to say are “of the Hebraic persuasion.”
We’ll have more about members of our community who had connections to activities that were not always on the right side of the law in our Aug. 16 issue. If you might have a story to add about a relative with a shady past that you might like to share, you can email us at jewishp@mymts.net
Features
So, what’s the deal with the honey scene in ‘Marty Supreme?’
By Olivia Haynie December 29, 2025 This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
There are a lot of jarring scenes in Marty Supreme, Josh Safdie’s movie about a young Jew in the 1950s willing to do anything to secure his spot in table tennis history. There’s the one where Marty (Timothée Chalamet) gets spanked with a ping-pong paddle; there’s the one where a gas station explodes. And the one where Marty, naked in a bathtub, falls through the floor of a cheap motel. But the one that everybody online seems to be talking about is a flashback of an Auschwitz story told by Marty’s friend and fellow ping-ponger Béla Kletzki (Géza Röhrig, best known for his role as a Sonderkommando in Son of Saul).
Kletzki tells the unsympathetic ink tycoon Milton Rockwell (Kevin O’Leary) about how the Nazis, impressed by his table tennis skills, spared his life and recruited him to disarm bombs. One day, while grappling with a bomb in the woods, Kletzki stumbled across a honeycomb. He smeared the honey across his body and returned to the camp, where he let his fellow prisoners lick it off his body. The scene is a sensory nightmare, primarily shot in close-ups of wet tongues licking sticky honey off Kletzki’s hairy body. For some, it was also … funny?
Many have reported that the scene has been triggering a lot of laughter in their theaters. My audience in Wilmington, North Carolina, certainly had a good chuckle — with the exception of my mother, who instantly started sobbing. I sat in stunned silence, unsure at first what to make of the sharp turn the film had suddenly taken. One post on X that got nearly 6,000 likes admonished Safdie for his “insane Holocaust joke.” Many users replied that the scene was in no way meant to be funny, with one even calling it “the most sincere scene in the whole movie.”
For me, the scene shows the sheer desperation of those in the concentration camps, as well as the self-sacrifice that was essential to survival. And yet many have interpreted it as merely shock humor.
Laughter could be understood as an inevitable reaction to discomfort and shock at a scene that feels so out of place in what has, up to that point, been a pretty comedic film. The story is sandwiched between Marty’s humorous attempts to embarrass Rockwell and seduce his wife. Viewers may have mistaken the scene as a joke since the film’s opening credits sequence of sperm swimming through fallopian tubes gives the impression you will be watching a comedy interspersed with some tense ping-pong playing.
The reaction could also be part of what some in the movie theater industry are calling the “laugh epidemic.” In The New York Times, Marie Solis explored the inappropriate laughter in movie theaters that seems to be increasingly common. The rise of meme culture and the dissolution of clear genres (Marty Supreme could be categorized as somewhere between drama and comedy), she writes, have primed audiences to laugh at moments that may not have been meant to be funny.
The audience’s inability to process the honey scene as sincere may also be a sign of a society that has become more disconnected from the traumas of the past. It would not be the first time that people, unable to comprehend the horrors of the Holocaust, have instead derided the tales of abuse as pure fiction. But Kletzki’s story is based on the real experiences of Alojzy Ehrlich, a ping-pong player imprisoned at Auschwitz. The scene is not supposed to be humorous trauma porn — Safdie has called it a “beautiful story” about the “camaraderie” found within the camps. It also serves as an important reminder of all that Marty is fighting for.
The events of the film take place only seven years after the Holocaust, and the macabre honey imagery encapsulates the dehumanization the Jews experienced. Marty is motivated not just by a desire to prove himself as an athlete and rise above what his uncle and mother expect of him, but above what the world expects of him as a Jew. His drive to reclaim Jewish pride is further underscored when he brings back a piece of an Egyptian pyramid to his mother, telling her, “We built this.”
Without understanding this background, the honey scene will come off as out of place and ridiculous. And the lengths Marty is willing to go to to make something of himself cannot be fully appreciated. The film’s description on the review-app Letterboxd says Marty Supreme is about one man who “goes to hell and back in pursuit of greatness.” But behind Marty is the story of a whole people who have gone through hell; they too are trying to find their way back.
Olivia Haynie is an editorial fellow at the Forward.
This story was originally published on the Forward.
Features
Paghahambing ng One-on-One Matches at Multiplayer Challenges sa Pusoy in English
Ang Pusoy, na kilala din bilang Chinese Poker, ay patuloy na sumisikat sa buong mundo, kumukuha ng interes ng mga manlalaro mula sa iba’t ibang bansa. Ang mga online platforms ay nagpapadali sa pag-access nito. Ang online version nito ay lubos na nagpasigla ng interes sa mga baguhan at casual players, na nagdulot ng diskusyon kung alin ang mas madali: ang paglalaro ng Pusoy one-on-one o sa multiplayer settings.
Habang nailipat sa digital platforms ang Pusoy, napakahalaga na maunawaan ang mga format nito upang mapahusay ang karanasan sa laro. Malaking epekto ang bilang ng mga kalaban pagdating sa istilo ng laro, antas ng kahirapan, at ang ganap na gameplay dynamics. Ang mga platforms tulad ng GameZone ay nagbibigay ng angkop na espasyo para sa mga manlalaro na masubukan ang parehong one-on-one at multiplayer Pusoy, na akma para sa iba’t ibang klase ng players depende sa kanilang kasanayan at kagustuhan.
Mga Bentahe ng One-on-One Pusoy
Simpleng Gameplay
Sa one-on-one Pusoy in English, dalawa lang ang naglalaban—isang manlalaro at isang kalaban. Dahil dito, mas madali ang bawat laban. Ang pokus ng mga manlalaro ay nakatuon lamang sa kanilang sariling 13 cards at sa mga galaw ng kalaban, kaya’t nababawasan ang pagiging komplikado.
Para sa mga baguhan, ideal ang one-on-one matches upang:
- Sanayin ang tamang pagsasaayos ng cards.
- Matutunan ang tamang ranggo ng bawat kamay.
- Magsanay na maiwasan ang mag-foul sa laro.
Ang simpleng gameplay ay nagbibigay ng matibay na pundasyon para sa mas kumplikadong karanasan sa multiplayer matches.
Mga Estratehiya mula sa Pagmamasid
Sa one-on-one matches, mas madaling maunawaan ang istilo ng kalaban dahil limitado lamang ang galaw na kailangan sundan. Maaari mong obserbahan ang mga sumusunod na patterns:
- Konserbatibong pagkakaayos o agresibong strategy.
- Madalas na pagkakamali o overconfidence.
- Labis na pagtuon sa isang grupo ng cards.
Dahil dito, nagkakaroon ng pagkakataon ang mga manlalaro na isaayos ang kanilang estratehiya upang mas epektibong maka-responde sa galaw ng kalaban, partikular kung maglalaro sa competitive platforms tulad ng GameZone.
Mas Mababang Pressure
Dahil one-on-one lamang ang laban, mababawasan ang mental at emotional stress. Walang ibang kalaban na makaka-distract, na nagbibigay ng pagkakataon para sa mga baguhan na matuto nang walang matinding parusa sa kanilang mga pagkakamali. Nagiging stepping stone ito patungo sa mas dynamic na multiplayer matches.
Ang Hamon ng Multiplayer Pusoy
Mas Komplikado at Mas Malalim na Gameplay
Sa Multiplayer Pusoy, madaragdagan ang bilang ng kalaban, kaya mas nagiging komplikado ang laro. Kailangan kalkulahin ng bawat manlalaro ang galaw ng maraming tao at ang pagkakaayos nila ng cards.
Ang ilang hamon ng multiplayer ay:
- Pagbabalanse ng lakas ng cards sa tatlong grupo.
- Pag-iwas sa labis na peligro habang nagiging kompetitibo.
- Pagtatagumpayan ang lahat ng kalaban nang sabay-sabay.
Ang ganitong klase ng gameplay ay nangangailangan ng maingat na pagpaplano, prediksyon, at strategic na pasensiya.
Mas Malakas na Mental Pressure
Mas mataas ang psychological demand sa multiplayer, dahil mabilis ang galawan at mas mahirap manatiling kalmado sa gitna ng mas maraming kalaban. Kabilang dito ang:
- Bilisan ang pagdedesisyon kahit under pressure.
- Paano mananatiling focused sa gitna ng mga distractions.
- Pagkakaroon ng emosyonal na kontrol matapos ang sunod-sunod na talo.
Mas exciting ito para sa mga manlalarong gusto ng matinding hamon at pagmamalasakit sa estratehiya.
GameZone: Ang Bagong Tahanan ng Modern Pusoy
Ang GameZone online ay isang kahanga-hangang platform para sa mga naglalaro ng Pusoy in English. Nagbibigay ito ng opsyon para sa parehong one-on-one at multiplayer matches, akma para sa kahit anong antas ng kasanayan.
Mga feature ng GameZone:
- Madaling English interface para sa user-friendly na gameplay.
- Real-player matches imbes na kalaban ay bots.
- Mga tool para sa responsible play, tulad ng time reminder at spending limits.
Pagtatagal ng Pamanang Pusoy
Ang Pusoy card game in English ay nagpalawak ng abot nito sa mas maraming players mula sa iba’t ibang bahagi ng mundo habang pinapanatili ang tradisyunal nitong charm. Sa pamamagitan ng mga modernong platform tulad ng GameZone, mananatiling buhay at progresibo ang Pusoy, nakakabighani pa rin sa lahat ng antas ng manlalaro—mula sa casual enjoyment hanggang sa competitive challenges.
Mula sa maingat na pag-aayos ng mga cards hanggang sa pag-master ng estratehiya, ang Pusoy ay isang laro na nananatiling relevant habang ipinapakita ang masalimuot nitong gameplay dynamics na puno ng kultura at inobasyon.
Features
Rob Reiner asked the big questions. His death leaves us searching for answers.
Can men and women just be friends? Can you be in the revenge business too long? Why don’t you just make 10 louder and have that be the top number on your amp?
All are questions Rob Reiner sought to answer. In the wake of his and his wife’s unexpected deaths, which are being investigated as homicides, it’s hard not to reel with questions of our own: How could someone so beloved come to such a senseless end? How can we account for such a staggering loss to the culture when it came so prematurely? How can we juggle that grief and our horror over the violent murder of Jews at an Australian beach, gathered to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah, and still light candles of our own?
The act of asking may be a way forward, just as Rob Reiner first emerged from sitcom stardom by making inquiries.
In This is Spinal Tap, his first feature, he played the role of Marty DiBergi, the in-universe director of the documentary about the misbegotten 1982 U.S. concert tour of the eponymous metal band. He was, in a sense, culminating the work of his father, Carl Reiner, who launched a classic comedy record as the interviewer of Mel Brooks’ 2,000 Year Old Man. DiBergi as played by Reiner was a reverential interlocutor — one might say a fanboy — but he did take time to query Nigel Tufnell as to why his amp went to 11. And, quoting a bad review, he asked “What day did the Lord create Spinal Tap, and couldn’t he have rested on that day too?”
But Reiner had larger questions to mull over. And in this capacity — not just his iconic scene at Katz’s Deli in When Harry Met Sally or the goblin Yiddishkeit of Miracle Max in The Princess Bride — he was a fundamentally Jewish director.
Stand By Me is a poignant meditation on death through the eyes of childhood — it asks what we remember and how those early experiences shape us. The Princess Bride is a storybook consideration of love — it wonders at the price of seeking or avenging it at all costs. A Few Good Men is a trenchant, cynical-for-Aaron Sorkin, inquest of abuse in the military — how can it happen in an atmosphere of discipline.
In his public life, Reiner was an activist. He asked how he could end cigarette smoking. He asked why gay couples couldn’t marry like straight ones. He asked what Russia may have had on President Trump. This fall, with the FCC’s crackdown on Jimmy Kimmel, he asked if he would soon be censored. He led with the Jewish question of how the world might be repaired.
Guttingly, in perhaps his most personal project, 2015’s Being Charlie, co-written by his son Nick he wondered how a parent can help a child struggling with addiction. (Nick was questioned by the LAPD concerning his parents’ deaths and was placed under arrest.)
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None of the questions had pat answers. Taken together, there’s scarcely a part of life that Reiner’s filmography overlooked, including the best way to end it, in 2007’s The Bucket List.
Judging by the longevity of his parents, both of whom lived into their 90s, it’s entirely possible Reiner had much more to ask of the world. That we won’t get to see another film by him, or spot him on the news weighing in on the latest democratic aberration, is hard to swallow.
Yet there is some small comfort in the note Reiner went out on. In October, he unveiled Spinal Tap II: The Beginning of the End, a valedictory moment in a long and celebrated career.
Reiner once again returned to the role of DiBergi. I saw a special prescreening with a live Q&A after the film. It was the day Charlie Kirk was assassinated. I half-expected Reiner to break character and address political violence — his previous film, God & Country, was a documentary on Christian Nationalism.
But Reiner never showed up — only Marty DiBergi, sitting with Nigel Tuffnell (Christopher Guest), David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean) and Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer) at Grauman’s Chinese Theater in Los Angeles. The interview was broadcast to theaters across the country, with viewer-submitted questions like “What, in fact, did the glove from Smell the Glove smell like?” (Minty.) And “Who was the inspiration for ‘Big Bottom?’” (Della Reese.)
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DiBergi had one question for the audience: “How did you feel about the film?”
The applause was rapturous, but DiBergi still couldn’t get over Nigel Tuffnell’s Marshall amp, which now stretched beyond 11 and into infinity.
“How can that be?” he asked. “How can you go to infinity? How loud is that?”
There’s no limit, Tuffnell assured him. “Why should there be a limit?”
Reiner, an artist of boundless curiosity and humanity, was limitless. His remit was to reason why. He’ll be impossible to replace, but in asking difficult questions, we can honor him.
The post Rob Reiner asked the big questions. His death leaves us searching for answers. appeared first on The Forward.