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Daniel Raiskin, music director of the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra, discusses his life – from his boyhood in Soviet Russia to his coming to Winnipeg and his admiration for the Jewish community here

Daniel Raiskin

By BERNIE BELLAN Daniel Raiskin has been the music director of the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra since 2018. This paper has been remiss not to have interviewed Raiskin until now, although to be fair to ourselves, he is an extremely busy fellow,

 so finding a time when he could sit down and talk about his career, what life was like growing up in a Jewish family in Soviet Russia, and how he feels about spending a good part of his time in Winnipeg, was not easily arranged.

But then Covid-19 suddenly took over everyone’s lives – no matter who they are or where they live and, without much planning required, we were able to arrange to speak with Raiskin from his Amsterdam home.
At the outset of our conversation, which was conducted via WhatsAapp on Friday, April 3, Raiskin explained he’s “lived in Amsterdam for 30 years.” While he travels the world serving as guest conductor for many different orchestras, he “shares his time between Winnipeg and Amsterdam. My home is both in Amsterdam and Winnipeg,” he said.
I asked him, since he’s lived in The Netherlands for so many years whether he holds Dutch citizenship? Raiskin answered that he’s been a Dutch citizen for 26 years, although he still “has a Russian passport, too.”

At the present time Raiskin is also resigned, like the rest of us, to remaining in his Amsterdam home with his wife and two children (a son, 21, and a daughter, 16) for the foreseeable future..
“I was actually caught here between two projects – both of which were in Winnipeg,” Raiskin explained. “I was supposed to return to Winnipeg to spend 10 days there, but then things began to get really cloudy and we decided it doesn’t make any sense for me to fly into Winnipeg and get stuck there without my family, so I decided to stay here.”
We discussed how The Netherlands had taken a relatively hands-off approach to the Coronavirus to begin with, but as the danger has become more apparent, the liberal attitudes that most Dutch have in being uncomfortable with seeing their liberties restricted have begun to dissipate.
“People here are used to going to parks and to the seaside, but I’m afraid that on Monday (April 6) the lockdown is going to be announced,” Raiskin observed (on April 3).

Before we began to talk about Raiskin’s musical career, I said to him that I wanted “to take him back to his childhood in St. Petersburg.” I remarked to him that when I was a student in Israel (a very long time ago – 1974-75 to be exact). I became friends with a girl from St. Petersburg, who bragged to me that people from St. Petersburg were so much more sophisticated than Israelis, also that St. Petersburg had “the best ice cream in the world.”
I asked Raiskin whether the part about the ice cream was true.
“Yes, that ‘s very true,” he responded – “at least judging from my kids’ reaction any time we go to St. Petersburg, they say ‘this is really the best tasting ice cream.’ “

I wondered whether Raiskin was a musical prodigy as a child.
“I was not a prodigy at all,” he said. “I took up the violin when I was six – and I didn’t ‘take it up’. I was given it. It’s an old joke that with the wave of Russian Jewish immigration to Israel every second Russian landing in Israel at Ben Gurion Airport had a violin in his or her hands. Those that did not were piano players.”

“I was born into a Jewish family where music played a very important role,” Raiskin explained.
“My father is one of the foremost Russian musicologists (who is also a now retired physicist, Raiskin noted). One of the first sounds I heard when I was born was my brother (who tragically died at a the age of 34) practising his cello. By the time I was six – I like to joke my mother was so tired of carrying my brother’s cello around, she opted for something smaller for me: a violin.”
By the way, both Rasikin’s parents are alive and still living in St. Petersburg, he told me. His father’s first love was always music, Raiskin noted, but as part of the generation that grew up in the Soviet Union following World War II, it was unrealistic for anyone to make a career of music, he explained.
“He was teaching physics at a university in St. Petersburg when he was 35, but he graduated from a music conservatory when he was 40. That goes to show how important music was to him,” Raiskin observed.
“My mother stopped working a year ago (when she was 82),” Raiskin said. “She was a mathematician and a software programmer.”

I asked Raiskin whether his “parents ever endured any discrimination because they were Jewish that you can speak of? ” I added that “I didn’t want to seem naive by asking the question (since anyone who was following the fight of “refuseniks” in Russia attempting to leave Russia at the time that Raiskin was growing up would have known that anti-Semitism was rampant in that country.
” We lived in a country with a great rate of anti-Semitism,’ Raiskin answered. “My parents and my brother and me and friends all around us were all subject to state-sponsored anti-Semitism. At some point my family had also made the decision to leave (Russia), but it was too late. The Afghanistan war had broken out and everything was hermetically sealed. We got stuck.”

At that point I said to Raiskin that I wanted to talk about what it was like growing up as a young Jewish boy in Russia at that time – and how much love of music was inculcated into his and his peers’ lives.
“It was like – any given picture of Chagall has a violin in it,” Raiskin observed. “It’s part of the Jewish heritage and DNA; this whole ‘3,000 years of endurance’. Music was one of the things that kept us from getting alienated.”
At the same time though, Raiskin said that “music was not something that I particularly wanted to do. I wanted to play football and ice hockey with my mates outside. As a kid you don’t want to spend hours practising and doing scales for hours, looking out the window of your seventh-floor apartment while other kids are playing outside. I wanted to be more like them.”
“It’s very often a mistake to think that it’s the child who makes the decision at age six or seven to become a musician. Some kids are so incredibly gifted they show a unique talent at such a young age, there’s nothing else they want to do. I definitely don’t want to give the impression that I was one of those kids. I was pretty much normal and not very well behaved; I was pretty naughty.
“It was only later that I developed a real taste for music – and worked hard to become something.”

To that point we hadn’t discussed Raiskin’s particular musical interests. I noted that I had read in various articles and interviews that his favourite composer was Gustav Mahler (who was also Jewish, by the way). I wondered when Raiskin first became interested in Mahler’s music?
“You know, in fact, Mahler was not a composer whose music was very often played in my years in the Soviet Union,” Raiskin explained. “The performances of Mahler were always a great event,” but it was only one or two of his symphonies that were ever played, he noted.
“It was only with the collapse of the Soviet Union and the first Western orchestras that started to come on European tours that we really started to hear Mahler played. I’ll never forget the first time I heard Mahler’s Seventh Symphony played by the Pittsburgh Symphony…I think this was when it really hit me hard. This is the moment that I said to myself: ‘I’m going to conduct this once’…and I did, on many occasions…I try to conduct his music as often as I can.”

We skipped ahead to Raiskin’s first time coming to Winnipeg which, he said, was in 2015, as guest conductor of the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra. There were two more appearances as guest conductor of the WSO in 2017 before Raiskin was appointed as music director in 2018.
“It was a lengthy process,” he said, “but I am, in fact, already looking back on five years of being associated with Winnipeg. It’s not like it started in 2018.”
Raiskin also observed that “no matter how successful a relationship a music director has with an orchestra – it’s never a relationship for life. It’s just the nature of the profession. It’s a marriage for a time…It’s not the conductors who play the music; it’s the orchestras. It’s about 67 musicians who play. It’s very important – the mandate we get from the musicians …and at a certain point it’s time for the conductor to go.”
However, Raiskin wanted to make clear that this is not something he is thinking about now. With his second season cut short due to the COVID-19 pandemic, he said that, |“more than ever our relationship and interdependency is being tested and I am confident we’ll get out if the crisis, whenever this might be, stronger than ever.“

 

Raiskin explained that, while he is contractually obligated to conduct the WSO for 12 weeks during the year, it is hugely important for any conductor to get out on the road as much as possible. He used the following analogy to illustrate his point: “A hockey player cannot perform at the highest level of his ability if he just plays home games. It’s also important how you perform outside.”

I noted at the outset of this article that, although Daniel Raiskin has been music director of the WSO for two years now, we still hadn’t interviewed him which, given that we’re a Jewish newspaper and he’s Jewish, is something that we should have done much earlier. But, since he’s now had time to get to know Winnipeg – and its Jewish community, much better, I asked him what his impression of our community was?
“I’m sure you’ve met Gail Asper,” I said (tongue in cheek; how could the music director of the WSO not have met one of the foremost supporters of the WSO – and arts in general in this city?)
“Yes, of course,” came Raiskin’s reply, “and many other people, like Laurel Malkin, and Michel Kay and Glenna Kay. You know, Winnipeg became a place where being Jewish for me suddenly started to matter in a very personal and positive way. Growing up in the Soviet Union was definitely not. I was once expelled from a music conservatory for visiting a synagogue – for the first time, just out of curiosity.
“And when you’re in a very cosmopolitan city like Amsterdam, with a very tragic history of Dutch Jews – one needs to acknowledge that there were 150,000 Dutch Jews before the Second World War, and only 15,000 survived – so, for me, connecting to the Jewish community here…like the first Rosh Hashanah dinner I ever attended was…in Winnipeg! Because some friends just took me and my wife and said: ‘Come’. I really feel that it matters in a very positive way that I’m Jewish and I can connect to many people in Winnipeg and many in our audiences are Jewish.”
“I feel more Jewish than ever since coming to Winnipeg,” Raiskin suggested. “Jewish music is so important to me. One of the first things I recorded as a musician – as an instrumentalist, was a complete edition of music for viola and piano by Ernst Bloch, the foremost Jewish composer.”

At the end of our interview we discussed the devastating effect that the current crisis is having on people’s lives – in so many ways. Raiskin said that he was still fully involved in planning for the coming season of the WSO – and for the season after that as well.
In terms of assessing people’s hunger for music, he had this to say: “I think there will be a sense of growing hunger…our souls and our spirits are being so hollowed, there will be a growing need to fill in this gap – and this is where we can step in.”
Raiskin closed our interview with this observation: “I feel: today, more than ever, people feel how important arts and culture are to them. We suddenly realize that we use art to communicate with each other!“

 

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Part 4 of the delusional Winnipeg con man story: The guy in LA who figured out who everyone else was that had been conned

By BERNIE BELLAN This is the fourth part of a story about a delusional Winnipegger who believes he is someone of great wealth and has spent the better part of 30 years contacting people all over the world telling them that he wants to invest in their businesses or projects.

The other three parts have been posted here at: Part 1: “The delusional Winnipeg con man who actually believed his own elaborate con and led one victim in Africa to consider committing suicide”; Part 2: “Meeting the con man for the first time in 2021; and Part 3: “An explosive email arrives in my inbox on January 16.”

As I noted in my last chapter, it was some time after that January 16 email arrived before I realized it had been sent by the person I’m calling Rick here – even though the email was supposedly sent by someone else. I still don’t understand why Rick chose to disguise the fact that he was the one who sent the email that detailed the litany of deception that the man I’ve been calling Fred Devlin perpetrated.

There are so many things I still don’t understand about Rick. He’s gone from being extremely cordial to vicious and back again to being cordial.

At first I didn’t keep a record of all the texts I received from Rick. He kept throwing out names I had never heard of – as if I had any idea what he was talking about. I tried to get him to slow down, just tell me who all these different individuals were whose names he was citing.

Rick kept coming back to one name in particular. I’ll call him Jonathan. Rick wrote that Jonathan was trying to get the RCMP in Ontario (where apparently Jonathan lived) to conduct a criminal investigation of Devlin. Since texts are often jumbled I had to keep asking Rick to explain why Jonathan, in particular – out of all the names Rick had mentioned to me who were victims of Devlin’s vast cons, had a story that might convince a police force in Canada to investigate Devlin. What about the others? I wondered. Didn’t they all have reasons to file complaints with police forces.

Over a period of days – in which I was constantly exchanging texts with Rick (I should explain that I’m mostly retired and can devote myself to writing about stories that grab my interest, as opposed to what I used to have to do previously, which was often to write about subjects in which I had no real interest.), I kept asking Rick more and more questions to get a better idea of the scope of Devlin’s activities through the years.

I told Rick that the January 16 email I had received whetted my appetite to the point where I would publish on my website that email along with my own story how I had come to meet Devlin. My original intention was to keep adding to that story as I learned more information about Devlin’s bizarre pattern of duping individuals into thinking he was rich and powerful. However, as I’ve already explained I was intimidated into pulling that story off my website once I got that libel chill letter from a lawyer.

Even though I chickened out on that one, I told Rick I still wanted to pursue talking to the various individuals he had named in various texts whom he described as having fallen prey to Devlin’s machinations. In time I was able to speak to seven different individuals, all of whom gave me permission to record my conversations with them. Strangely enough, once I had wrapped up speaking to everyone who I thought could offer a piece of the puzzle that is Fred Devlin, I was contacted by one more individual, whom I happen to know very well. That person’s name had come up in some of Rick’s texts – and not in a favourable way.

That particular individual said they knew their name had been discussed in negative terms by one or more of the individuals with whom I had spoken and they wanted to set the record straight – but not on the record. They kept me on the phone for more than two hours, but always insisting that nothing they had said could be reported. So, what was the point of their calling me in the first place? I wondered.

That particular conversation, frustrating as it was, was no stranger than some of the other conversations I had with some of the other individuals whose names had been mentioned at various times in Rick’s texts. Conversations were often meandering and had little to do with the story I was trying to chase down. But, I’m a good listener – and I let everyone who wanted to ramble on do that. Trying to make sense of what they told me had happened between each of them and Devlin wasn’t easy and I kept coming back to the original question that first occurred to me when I met Devlin: How long would it have taken you to realize the guy was a nutcase?

Following are excerpts from texts I received from Rick – and remember, I din’t have a clue who he was talking about in most cases. Again, names have been changed to protect individuals’ identities where they asked not to have their names divulged. The texts may seem somewhat disjointed and incoherent, but reading them will give you a sense of how wide a net Devlin cast in his delusion that he was a hugely successful businessman.

The first text here begins with a reference to someone named Bryan. I had been told earlier by Rick that Bryan Hunter was with the RCMP and was working on an investigation of Devlin at the behest of Jonathan who, as I noted earlier, was urging the RCMP to investigate Devlin.

…just waiting for Bryan to get to work on Tuesday so he can transfer the case from York police to Winnipeg RCMP and get started with the investigation

Charlie in Africa is still getting death threats and harassment from random strangers

Avi … is ready to speak with you now and share his story about Fred – his number in Vegas is …

Also Dan Winthrop is ready to speak with you now too. He’s the guy Fred used to fly around the world to these imaginary meetings to buy millions of dollars of planes and airports and all kinds of crazy stuff. He’s been with Fred for years doing this and has all the evidence and stories about everything. His number is …

I’m still trying to get Jonathan Soloway to call you but he has trust issues with journalists

Once you talk to Avi and Dan, you’ll have all you need.

I’m telling you man this is almost like a major motion film it’s so beyond crazy.

(The following text is about someone whom I’ll call Dan thanking Rick for the work he’s done to try to bring Devlin to justice, also referring to being willing to talk to me.)

Dan says ‘Thank you so much I do really appreciate the tone of your email and also your great work. It was very timely for you to do this and the end result from my 40 year project was absolute devastation. Fred destroyed and lied in person to top executives of an international company for years and now I’m in the mud because I associated with him. Yes I definitely will talk with this guy’ (That would be me).

“ ‘I will probably fly to Winnipeg to have a chat with him. I’ve been reviewing my story in my head and trying to make it succinct. So I will send you my story before I talk with this guy. Your timing was absolutely excellent. I don’t know if my work will ever continue that I’ve spent so many years on. But you as a businessman and a publisher knows what it’s like to persevere. I accept the suffering that I’m going through now and better to face that Fred is a psychopath now than further down the road. Fred definitely needs to be stopped and is using the names of top leaders in Winnipeg as companies that he says he owns.

“ ‘So you’re doing great work and I honor that.

“ ‘Thank you’ “

A couple more weeks passed between texts with Rick. I wrote to him: “…you keep saying charges are about to be laid, and from what I can see all that the RCMP have done is assigned a case number to Jonathan’s complaint.

It’s hard for me to believe that the RCMP was taking the complaint seriously.”

Rick responded: “You have no idea the obstacles and challenges we’ve been through to get to this point. I’ve already cried about every obstacle along the way, so I’m not gonna repeat myself and bore both of us. I understand I’m just frustrated and I want this to be over with and I want that psychopath to be locked away, so he can’t hurt any more people.

I wanted to know though, what exactly Devlin had done to Rick that caused him such anguish. I asked him: “Can you quantify how you lost millions of dollars? Was it put into some sort of investment?

Rick responded: “I didn’t lose millions through a direct cash investment. The loss was through reliance and opportunity cost over roughly two years. Fred promised a $10 million investment to acquire and scale my magazine and represented that $1 million would be advanced to stabilize me personally while the larger transaction was finalized. Based on those representations, I stopped pursuing other investors, shared my full business plan, disclosed confidential and personal information, and spent thousands of hours in daily calls, planning sessions, and operational preparation with Fred, my staff, and outside collaborators.

We had approximately 20 people lined up and ready to execute once funding arrived, and the company’s growth was effectively put on hold while we waited. During that time I passed on other legitimate opportunities and investors because I believed the deal was real and imminent. The financial loss is the value of years of diverted labor, stalled growth, foregone funding opportunities, and business damage caused by reliance on repeated promises that were never fulfilled. That is what I mean when I say I lost millions of dollars.”

I returned to asking the original question that had been troubling me from the first time I received that original email on January 16: “How can so many highly intelligent people have been conned by Fred – and for so long? I smelled a rat the first time I met him. What was it about him that persuaded so many ostensibly intelligent people to go along with the nonsense he was spewing out when what he was promising could never be backed up?”

Rick responded: “That question is exactly the right one, and it’s really the heart of the story.

Fred didn’t succeed because people were unintelligent. He succeeded because he was highly adaptive and targeted people’s specific vulnerabilities. He didn’t tell the same story to everyone. He mirrored each person’s values, language, and aspirations, then slowly escalated his claims once trust was established.

In my case, I’m highly intelligent and have run a successful media company for decades, but I’m also autistic. That combination can mean I take people at their word. I’m less attuned to manipulation cues, and I’m more willing to suspend disbelief if something feels theoretically possible. Over time, especially with constant contact, that matters. When someone speaks with absolute confidence day after day, hour after hour, the brain normalizes the claims.

The unifying factor across victims wasn’t stupidity, it was money used as leverage. Fred consistently dangled imminent, life changing financial relief. Promised investments, salaries, ownership positions, acquisitions. Once people believed funding was coming, they reorganized their lives around it. They stopped pursuing alternatives. They waited. That waiting is where the damage happens.

He also used social proof. He placed people into roles within a supposedly massive organization, introduced them to each other, referenced meetings with officials, institutions, and high status figures. Each person assumed someone else had already verified the claims. No one realized they were all operating on the same unverified promises.

Some victims were vulnerable due to age, idealism, faith, or personal hardship. Others were experienced professionals who believed they were seeing only a small piece of a much larger, already validated operation. Fred exploited optimism, trust, and the very human tendency to believe that extraordinary opportunities sometimes really do exist.

In hindsight, the claims were impossible. But cons don’t work in hindsight, they work in real time, incrementally, when skepticism is postponed just a little longer each day because the payoff is always right around the corner.

That’s how intelligent people get caught. Not all at once, but slowly, while trying to act in good faith.

I’m absolutely willing to go on the record and share every aspect of my experience in detail, including timelines, communications, documents, and the specific representations that were made to me over the two year period. My goal is transparency and preventing further harm to others. I will also work with everyone I’ve interviewed and spoken to so that they can share their stories with you directly as well.”

After reading that particular text – which was well written, I came to the conclusion that the January 16 email I had received had been written by Rick, not by Charlie. I wondered why that was, so I asked Rick why he had used Charlie to send that email? Rick refused to answer that question and said that he felt like he was being “interrogated” by me. I told him that his response only added to my puzzlement over this entire story – which I still find so baffling to understand. Rick’s responses to subsequent questions became increasingly frazzled.

In our final exchange of texts – when I persisted in asking him why he had written that January 16 email, not Charlie, he wrote: “You’re throwing a monkey wrench into the whole thing right now by being a little too pushy and a little too aggressive

This is always been about stopping Fred from taking more victims, not about you writing a story about our traumas

The only person who benefits there is you”

In the meantime, I wanted to begin speaking to others who had been victimized by Fred Devlin.

The first person I spoke to by phone is someone I’m going to call Dan Winthrop. Dan Winthrop was an aeronautical engineer who had a plan to bring jet planes from Israel and convert them into water bombers.

Coming next: Dan Winthrop’s story

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Israeli Government Report Ranks World’s 10 Most Influential Antisemites

Swedish activist Greta Thunberg, who was part of the Global Sumud Flotilla seeking to deliver aid to Gaza and was detained by Israel, gestures as she is greeted by supporters upon her arrival to the Athens Eleftherios Venizelos International Airport, in Athens, Greece, Oct. 6, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Louisa Gouliamaki

Israel’s Ministry of Diaspora Affairs and Combating Antisemitism published this week its official ranking of the 10 most influential antisemitic figures in the world in 2025, and the No. 1 spot was given to social media influencer Dan Bilzerian, who is running for US Congress in Florida.
The Armenian-American entrepreneur and US military veteran is a prominent critic of Israel and Judaism who has promoted antisemitic conspiracy theories and Holocaust denial. He has said he wants to “kill Israelis” and thinks Judaism is “terrible.” He recently claimed antisemitism is a “made-up term” and there is a “big Jewish supremacy problem” in the United States. He formally filed paperwork earlier this month to run as a Republican and unseat incumbent Jewish Rep. Randy Fine in Florida’s 6th Congressional District.
Swedish climate activist Greta Thunberg is the world’s second most influential antisemite, according to Israel’s Ministry of Diaspora Affairs, which highlighted her use of terms such as “genocide,” “siege,” and “mass starvation” in reference to Israel’s military actions in the Gaza Strip.
Third place was given to Egyptian comedian and former television host Bassem Youssef, followed by far-right American political commentator Candace Owens in fourth place and Palestinian-British journalist and editor Abdel Bari Atwan in fifth.
The list includes American imam Omar Suleiman, Denmark-based doctor Anastasia Maria Loupis – who has shared online conspiracy theories about Jews and Israel – far-right commentator and white nationalist Nick Fuentes, and conspiracist Ian Carroll.
Rounding out the top 10 is far-right podcaster and former Fox News host Tucker Carlson, who regularly promotes antisemitic conspiracy theories about Jewish influence.
Israel said the 10 most “prominent influencers in the global antisemitic and anti-Zionist arena in 2025” were selected based on “both the severity of their actions/statements and the scope of their influence” related to their activities last year. “Each of them has expressed antisemitic views or promoted false information related to Jews, Israel, or both,” the ministry explained. The list does not include individuals with formal political or government positions.
Each individual was ranked based on their influence on social media, but also other factors such as their repeated appearances on news channels, “perceived influence on public opinion, and prominence in certain communities.” The ministry also took into consideration each person’s “level of impact and risk,” which includes how often they upload antisemitic and anti-Israeli posts on social media. The report was released ahead of Israel’s Holocaust Remembrance Day, known in Hebrew as Yom HaShoah.
In a separate section of the report dedicated to antisemitic and anti-Israel influencers in the US, Israel’s Ministry of Diaspora Affairs singled out YouTuber and children’s educator Ms. Rachel, who has “increasingly used her social media accounts to amplify pro-Palestinian messages and criticize Israel.”
“Her posts have been interpreted by pro-Israel organizations as one-sided and hostile to Israel, and organizations such as StopAntisemitism have accused her of spreading anti-Israel or pro-Hamas propaganda and called for an examination of her activities,” the ministry stated.

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4000 Quarters for my Uncle Lew – a new story by David Topper

Introduction: David Topper has been featured on this website many times. His stories about Albert Einstein have drawn huge audiences, but David’s interests range far beyond writing about science. Most recently, we have featured stories about “Jews in strange places.”

If you want to find all of David Topper’s stories that have appeared on this site, just enter his name in our search engine (the magnifying glass). Here’s David’s latest story – but be warned: As David told me, it’s a “story”:

I adored my Uncle Lew. He was one of many uncles in the large extended family on my mother’s side. Of course, this means that there were many aunts too. But there were not many cousins – at least, none my age. And I was an only child; so I guess you could call me an “only cousin” too. At least when I was very young – say, from ages 6 through 12 or so – until many cousins were eventually born. In all, it seems that I was alone, in those early years.
But I’m digressing already, and I just want to tell you about my grandmother’s brother, my Uncle Lew. You see, he lived in the same city when I was very young, and he came to visit a lot – especially on Sundays, when there was a large gathering of the extended family at my grandmother’s home, with lots of food. He came with his wife, Aunt Lil. But it was Lew who was especially nice to me. He always came with jokes; jokes that the adults laughed at – and I did too, but often not really knowing what was funny.
Most importantly, for me, sometime during the visit, Uncle Lew would sneak up behind me and put his hand in the right side-pocket of my trousers. I knew what was happening, and so I’d just walk away to a quiet part of the house, reach inside my pocket, and pull out a shiny quarter. Rubbing it in my hands, thinking about what I might buy, and putting it back in my pocket – I was happy, and set for the week to come. You must realize that this was sometime in the late 1940s and into the 1950s – and a quarter was worth a lot to a kid. These were the days when a penny could buy a nice treat at the candy store nearby where I lived. And, well you do the math: a quarter was worth 25 pennies. Yes, I adored Uncle Lew, although I’m not sure I would have used that word at the time.
Speaking of money. I remember that the family, especially the men, talked a lot about money. I’m not sure that many of them had a lot of it, since most were of the working class. Maybe that’s why they talked about it. Although I suspect that rich people spend a lot of time talking about money too. Yet, what do I know?
I mention this because, at some point – I don’t remember the date or my age – but Uncle Lew and Aunt Lil moved to another city. Thus: no more shiny quarters in my pocket at the Sunday dinners. Instead, I listened to the talk, mainly among the men, about Uncle Lew. And as best I could surmise: Uncle Lew owed people money that he didn’t have, and so he had to skedaddle to save his skin. It made me think about my quarters, and if I had put them in the bank, maybe I could have helped Uncle Lew pay back his debts. But now it was too late. Uncle Lew was gone and I spent all the quarters on myself – my selfish self, I thought sadly.
But Uncle Lew was not completely out of my life. A few years later he came to town for a short visit. He came for a weekend; and had Sunday dinner with the family. I guess he thought it was safe enough. And nothing happened. So, he did it again, a few months later. And so it went. Thus, Uncle Lew was not out of my life completely. And yes, a quarter was deposited in my pocket on the Sunday dinners. As well, by now, I had a bank account; and I occasionally put Uncle Lew’s quarters in the bank – just in case he might need a loan someday, I thought.
Oh, I forgot to mention: he now came alone. From the talk of the adults, I figured out that he and Aunt Lil were divorced – something my mother later explained to me, because in those days it was not a common occurrence. And people were often embarrassed to talk about it.
 
Now fast forward several years to the late 1950s, when I was in High School. One day Uncle Lew appeared out of nowhere, carrying all that he owned in a few suitcases. I don’t know why, but he stayed with us. Being an only child, I had a room of my own and so the family got a cot from the basement and they put it in my room. I was okay with this, since I always liked Uncle Lew and was glad to know that he was safe with us.
Our first night together – I in my bed and he a few feet away in the cot – was memorable. Because, in the middle of the night, I woke up and saw a spark of light moving around the room near Uncle Lew’s cot. I guess I forgot to tell you that Uncle Lew was a smoker. Of course, smoking was common in those days, so it was no big thing that he smoked. In fact, if you watch any movie from that period, every time people walk into a room and sit down to talk, someone takes out a pack of cigarettes and they all light up. But I digress, again. Anyway, as you may have surmised, the spark of light moving around in the dead of night was Uncle Lew having a smoke. He was so addicted to cigarettes that he couldn’t get through a night’s sleep without one. And so it went: night after night.
Also, at the time he moved in with me, I was working on building a model airplane out of balsa wood. I usually worked on this in the evenings, after I did all my homework. The parts were strewn across a table in my room, and Uncle Lew often watched me assemble the plane – saying he hoped to see the plane actually fly someday. He said he enjoyed watching me put the thing together (since he seemed to have nothing else to do), and I enjoyed the conversations. I glued pieces of balsa wood together and he smoked cigarettes, depositing the ashes in a tray on my table. 
In a short time, I came to understand why Uncle Lew was here. When I was at school during the day, my relatives were taking turns driving Uncle Lew to the hospital for treatments. In those days, people didn’t talk about some things directly. Especially cancer, which was a word that was often spoken in a hushed voice. So that was it; he had lung cancer.
At the same time, Uncle Lew was seeing a dentist for the pain he was having with a tooth in the right side of his mouth. He showed it to me one day, while I was working on my airplane. He was sure that the dentist knew what he was doing, and Uncle Lew was looking forward to getting it removed and replaced with a new tooth. We didn’t talk about the cancer, but looking back on this I can only surmise that Uncle Lew was in denial – or he was overly optimistic about the cancer treatments.
In a short time, the tooth was removed and replaced by the false one. Uncle Lew was elated, and told me that it was the best $1000 he ever spent. Yes, $1000 for the tooth. I don’t know where he got the money. And I’m afraid to ask, for obvious reasons. But I now also question the ethics of that dentist, allowing a patient undergoing cancer treatments to spend so much money. But maybe the dentist didn’t know. Then again, where were my relatives in all this? I am only thinking of this now. As for all things in life while growing up: what is, is reality for that time, and you just go with the flow. Only later, looking back, do you see the quirks and foibles of the past.
Indeed, did I think of helping Uncle Lew with his dental bill? I had a bank account. And some of that money was from deposits of Uncle Lew’s quarters. I don’t know. What I do remember is that not long after the new tooth was planted in his mouth, relieving him of that pain, the cancer got worse – and he spent the rest of his days in the hospital. And that’s where he died.
At the funeral I wanted to mourn. To grieve at the loss of this beloved uncle, who lived with me in the last stage of his life.
But I kept thinking about that tooth – that damned $1000 tooth. While saying the prayer for the dead, the Kaddish, I wanted to concentrate on the meaning of the prayer – even though I couldn’t read Hebrew. But that costly tooth kept flashing in front of me – like the spark of Uncle Lew’s cigarette in the middle of the night.
Even when the body was lowered into the grave, and I took my turn throwing several shovels of dirt over Uncle Lew’s plain wooden coffin – in my mind, I was doing the math: how many quarters are there in $1000?
In a way, on that day, and in my mind, I really buried a tooth – and it just so happened that a body came along with it. 
My one consolation in all this is that about a few weeks after the funeral, I finished building my airplane; and I took it out to an empty ball-field near where I lived. Just me and my airplane.
The propeller was attached to a rubber band, and so I wound it up and gave it a push. It took off, rising up, almost as high as the trees beyond the outfield. Then it banked a bit toward the left; and, after heading back towards me, it moved in a circle – almost overhead. It continued circling – rather as if it were caught in a tornado – moving down and down.
When it crashed into a heap of shards of balsa wood right next to me standing on the pitcher’s mound … I laughed, a deep laugh – a laugh that turned into crying. A deep cry – a cry I sorely needed.
Sitting in that empty field next to my shattered airplane – looking up and beyond the trees – I screamed to the sky. “There are 4000 quarters in $1000.”

I walked home, and went to my room. Sitting at my empty table, I said to myself out loud. “I guess I should build another airplane. What do you think Uncle Lew? Let’s go to the store and use some of those quarters to buy another model airplane. Maybe this one won’t be jinxed. What do you think?”
But before leaving the house – and for the first time since Uncle Lew died – I was able to fold up that cot and put it back in the basement.

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