Features
How did someone who “died” 20 different times survive?
“The Summer I Died Twenty Times”
Reviewed by BERNIE BELLAN
In the summer of 2009 Winnipeg-born Fred Rutman claims to have “died” 20 times. As he writes in the prologue to his newly-released book, “The Summer I Died Twenty Times,” “I was clinically dead twenty times that we know of – heart stopped, no breathing, ready for the toe tag. And then I wasn’t.”
What happened to Fred Rutman, why it may have happened, and what he says he discovered has become the most effective treatment for his extremely rare condition is the subject of quite an intriguing 275-page account.
Fred had contacted me some time back to ask me whether I’d be interested in reading his book. Naturally, being the publisher of the Winnipeg Jewish newspaper, I was interested in knowing whether he had any Winnipeg relatives. It turns out Fred has strong Winnipeg roots, having been born here and having grown up here. Also, I remember being in school with his brother, Ray.
But, his book only deals tangentially with his Winnipeg connection. What Fred does is tell a story – a lengthy story that at times can bog you down with descriptions of what seem to be endless medical procedures he has undergone over the past 14 years, but one that is nonetheless thoroughly intriguing.
“The Summer I Died Twenty Times” is unusual also in how breezily it’s written. Chapters are short and are often given very humorous titles. Fred actually began writing the book during Covid as a means of passing time, he says. By the way, he also mentions that he’s had Covid three times – and, for someone who “died” 20 times before that, one has to wonder just what keeps this guy alive.
But, no matter what his medical history is – and how confounding it has been to what seem to have been a never-ending series of medical professionals, one is constantly left wondering: How did Fred Rutman survive?
Here’s how he describes his condition at one point: “I have a heart condition called a severe full AV block. Why, they don’t know. What they do know is it prevents your heart’s electrical signals from telling the atria and ventricle to beat in synch. That is to say, my heart stops. Now I am fully 100% dependent on a pacemaker to keep me alive…Collectively, my heart has stopped 50 plus times. Sometimes for extended periods of time. During many of these stoppages, I collapsed and bashed my head, resulting in concussion/brain damage…”
Fred also explains that at one point one of his doctors determined that Fred had suffered a stroke at birth, “which caused all sorts of brain trauma that no one caught.”
But, there is no conclusive evidence, he writes, that the stroke at birth is what has led to his heart problems.
No doubt, at this point, anyone reading this would be wondering: Was Fred Rutman clinically dead? The answer, as he discusses thoroughly, is an emphatic “yes.”
And then, of course, you would likely want to know: What was it like? Did he have an out-of-body experience at any time? Did he see a light? Did he go through a tunnel?
The answers, again, are: none of those things. Fred apologizes if a reader had been hoping to find some hint of an afterlife while reading his account.
Not that Fred Rutman is irreligious – far from it. He’s an observant Jew, not that he was always one, he explains. His becoming observant happened over time after he had moved to Toronto. In many ways, as he writes about the warm and loving Jewish community of which he’s now a part, he makes a convincing case for the merits of adhering to an Orthodox lifestyle.
In fact, because Fred does not refer to the many characters that populate his book by their real names, instead choosing to use often hilarious pseudonyms, it’s not always easy to remember just which member of his synagogue it was that administered to his needs at any particular point, including taking him to the hospital, visiting him there, bringing him kosher food to eat while he was there, or often letting him stay at their home, either while he was convalescing or after he had just experienced another near-death experience on the way to synagogue or on the way home.
I don’t know Fred Rutman, but after reading his story, I can’t help but think that someone who has as many friends as he does must be one terrific guy. He describes his academic and work background to some extent, but doesn’t really explain how he was able to support himself all the many times he ended up in hospital or later, while he was recovering.
Another aspect of the book, and perhaps one that will resonate with Manitoba readers in particular, is that no matter how often Fred’s condition may have been misdiagnosed and no matter how many times he may have been subjected to tortuous tests and procedures – he still received care within the Ontario health system.
One cannot help but wonder how long Fred Rutman would have survived had he still been living in Manitoba. Would he even have been able to see a doctor? you might wonder – and when you start to see the list of doctors who attended to Fred over the years, you might gain a fuller appreciation of our Canadian health care system, at least at it has developed in Ontario. In Manitoba, no doubt, he would have been put on a wait list and then subjected to numerous postponements of tests, procedures, and ultimately, life-saving operations,
At the same time though, the frustration that accompanies the numerous occasions during which doctors go over Fred’s medical history from the start, rather than just reading what other doctors have already determined is wrong, is just another example of how inefficient our Canadian medical system can be. (Since the book isn’t a scientific paper, it’s impossible to know whether Fred would have received better care within a different medical system, but his story certainly calls for a case study of that sort.)
Fred Rutman has had four pacemakers implanted underneath his chest wall over a relatively short number of years. Three had failed – something which, in itself, is especially disconcerting. The most recent one, which he has had now for three years does seem to be working properly, at least as of the current moment. But, when he describes being awake while surgeons thread leads into his heart to regulate its heartbeat – several times when he should have been asleep but the anesthetic was not given properly, well, it’s hard not to squirm as you’re reading that.
So, in the end, what has kept Fred Rutman alive? And, this is the part of the book that I’m sure will arouse the greatest controversy – it’s Fred’s categorical acceptance of Intermittent Fasting as a cure-all for a myriad of conditions he has experienced which he now says have either been eliminated of have been greatly relieved.
Without going into the details of Intermittent Fasting, which Fred does, suffice to say that it can be approached in a number of different ways. Here is how Wikipedia describes what Fred refers to simply as IF: “Intermittent fasting is any of various meal timing schedules that cycle between voluntary (or reduced calorie intake) and non-fasting over a given period. Methods of intermittent fasting include alternate-day fasting, periodic fasting, and daily time-restricted feeding.”
Upon further reading, however, I could find no conclusive scientific support to substantiate Fred’s claims for the wonderful effects of intermittent fasting. Perhaps, just as what exactly led to his experiencing so many heart stoppages still remains a mystery to the many doctors who treated Fred over the years, so too do the apparently wondrous effects that IF has had for him – and for many others who swear to its absolute usefulness.
“The Summer I Died Twenty Times” is hardly a medical treatise. Fred writes in a charmingly breezy manner. As I wrote to him an email though, there are a number of spelling and grammatical mistakes, but perhaps only a nit picker like me would notice them. In addition, Fred did admit to me that the first 40 pages of the book are a bit of a slog, as he describes the process that led to his writing the book.
By the time that you begin to read the details of what happened to Fred though, at first you’re bound to think: How did he even survive that very first episode in which his heart stopped, never mind the 19 others that followed? As you read on, however, reading about one episode after another where first Fred would have what he describes as a “brainquake”, followed by his blacking out totally when his heart stops, only to revive time and time again for mostly inexplicable reasons, it all seems to become a continuous cycle of events that may even seem monotonous.
But – what Fred Rutman experienced – and regardless how much stock he may put in Intermittent Fasting, may experience again, is absolutely riveting. He remains a medical mystery, although in time perhaps someone will come up with an explanation how someone who had “died” so many times was actually able to survive.
“The Summer I Died Twenty Times” is available on Amazon.
Features
Rabbi Gary Zweig’s new book provides humorous and moving accounts of making minyans in unlikely circumstances
By MYRON LOVE The recitation of the kaddish is a central tenet of Jewish religious life. Even members of our community who are largely secular will likely recite the words of the kaddish for a parent, sibling or spouse at some point in their lives – even if only at the grave site.
The kaddish can only be recited publicly in the presence of a minyan – a gathering of ten (men in the Orthodox tradition. The number, as explained by Rabbi Gedalia (Gary Zweig), stems from the number of spies – as written in the Torah – whom Moshe rabbenu sent into the promised land and who came back with negative reports as compared to the two spies – one of whom was Joshua – who said that the land was flowing with milk and honey.
It is this challenge of putting together minyans for a mourner to recite the kaddish in different locales and circumstances – when a minyan in a shul is not possible – that is the subject of Zweig’a newly released book, “Kaddish Around the World” – a 90-plus page compilation of short stories – some humourous, some heartwarming – of successful efforts to recruit enough daveners for a kaddish minyan, ranging in time and space from a Super Bowl game in San Diego to the middle of a game reserve in South Africa to a Jewish museum in Cordoba in Spain – in a city largely devoid of Jews.
Zweig, who hails from Toronto, was in Winnipeg over Yom Tov to lead services – along with Toronto-based Chazan Manny Aptowitser – at the Chavurat Tefila Talmud Torah Synagogue. On the Tuesday just before Yom Kippur, the synagogue hosted an evening to provide the rabbi with a venue to discuss his new book – a sequel to his first book, “Living Kaddish,” which he released in 2007 (and has been translated into Russian and Spanish).
Zweig is one of the original Aish Hatorah-trained rabbis – having attained his smicha in 1982 from Rabbi Noah Weinberg, the founder of Aish Hatorah. He (Zweig) is much travelled, himself having led Yom Tov services in such exotic locales as Bermuda, Barbados and Curacao in the Caribbean, Mexico and Sweden.
Zweig noted that he was inspired to write “Living Kaddish” after his mother passed away in 2002 when, on one occasion, he was not able to find a minyan so that he could say kaddish.
In his presentation at the Chavurat Tefila, he observed that the first Jew to mention kaddish is purported to be Rueven – about 3,500 years ago – on the passing of his father, Yaacov (Israel). About 900 C.E., Zweig continued, kaddish became part of the liturgy and, 200 years later, was included in the siddur.
It is interesting, he noted, that kaddish is said not for the deceased, but, rather, the living. There is no mention of the Lord in the kaddish either. Kaddish is actually a prayer for hope and the future.
For a parent, one is required to say kaddish three times a day – morning, afternoon and evening – for 11 months. For a sibling, child (God forbid), relative or others, the requirement is just 30 days.
One of the stories in “Kaddish Around the World” tells of one of Zweig’s own experiences – after his father died in 20201 at the age of 101. The author happened to be at a family bar mitzvah in Orlando several months later. He fully expected that in a city with a Jewish population the size of Orlando, he wouldn’t have any trouble putting together a minyan for a Sunday morning. He felt even more confident when he noticed that an AMOR Rabbis convention was being held at the same hotel. On inquiring which sort of rabbis these were, he learned that AMOR stood for “Association of Messianic Rabbis”.
Come Sunday morning, most of the bar mitzvah guests had gone home. He could only muster eight for the minyan. He thought he could try the messianic group in the hope that some of them may have been born Jewish. Four of the group offered to help. A Chabad rabbi suggested that Zweig ascertain that each had two Jewish parents. Two qualified.
Zweig quoted one of the two messianic rabbis who said, after the service that ”this was the most moving service I have ever experienced.”
“Maybe Hashem brought me to that particular hotel at that particular time so that I could provide them with little spark of what Judaism is about,” Zweig said.
Another of the stories in the book concerns a shopkeeper in an American mall where many of the other store owners were also Jewish. The individual, Yossi, needed a minyan for mincha (the afternoon prayer) but couldn’t afford to close his business. He figured he could round up enough of the other store keepers to form a minyan. Everyone he approached was willing to come if he were to be the tenth. (In my own years organizing minyans, that was something I heard often enough – “call me if I will be the tenth”). Yossi’s solution was to assure each one he asked that, yes, he would be the tenth.
“Kaddish Around the World” is available on Amazon and also in digital ebook format and as an audio book.
In addition to being a rabbi and author, Zweig also is a singer/songwriter working in his own genre – Jewish rock and roll. He has a band called “The Kiddush Club,” and a CD called “TOYS.” In addition, he has recently launched a YouTube channel called “Living Kaddish”.
Features
The Gaza Peace Plan is not a Done Deal, but an Opening
By HENRY SREBRNIK (Oct. 23, 2025) The idea that Hamas will voluntarily disarm, that international forces will deploy in the Gaza Strip, and that the process of building a Palestinian government by people like former British Prime Minister Tony Blair, in which a disarmed Hamas does not participate, are false hopes, if not fantasies. But does this mean U.S. President Donald Trump’s peace plan was useless? Of course not.
Trump understood the necessity of bringing the war to an end. But he also believed that endless debate among experts or, worse, historian and lawyers, would never produce an agreement. He presented an offer – actually, an ultimatum – to Benjamin Netanyahu and Hamas that neither could refuse: immediate, unconditional and complete release of all hostages and missing persons, something the Israeli public longed for, in exchange for a final end to the war, which a humbled Hamas needed.
Two years of war has left Hamas weaker than it had been in decades. Israeli bombardments had shattered the group’s military capabilities and depleted its arsenals. In many neighborhoods, control had drifted to local clan networks and tribal councils. This hinted at something that could one day replace Hamas’s iron grip. To prevent this, Hamas has been ruthlessly murdering all potential rivals in the areas of Gaza it controls since the ceasefire went into effect.
Despite the severe degradation of its military capabilities during the war, Hamas still has more soldiers and weapons than all its rival factions in Gaza combined. Hamas has managed to redeploy approximately 7,000 militants to reassert control over the territory. They have publicized photographs and videos of their forces murdering and torturing; the victims include women and children.
The ceasefire is a temporary reprieve for Hamas: a chance to regroup, rearm, and prepare for the next round of fighting. In Islamist political thought there’s a word for it, hudna — a temporary truce with non-Muslim adversaries that can be discarded as soon as the balance of power shifts. Then the time for jihad will arrive again. Hamas was established in 1987 and isn’t going to disappear.
In fact Hamas also says it expects an interim International Transitional Authority to hire 40,000 Hamas employees, and Hamas spokesman Basem Naim says he expects its fighters to be integrated into a post-transition Palestinian state.
Still, Trump has succeeded in ending the current war in Gaza, where Joe Biden failed. Biden’s national security team, drawn almost entirely from his supposed expert class, didn’t even see the crisis coming. Just five days before the attack, National Security Adviser Jake Sullivan had published an article in Foreign Affairs in which he wrote that “the region is quieter than it has been for decades.”
Biden also had insulted the Saudi crown prince, Mohammed bin Salman, by publicly condemning the 2018 murder of Saudi dissident journalist Jamal Khashoggi. And, of course, there was Biden’s poor relationship with Netanyahu, and his chronic inability to get the Israeli prime minister to do what he wanted.
By contrast, Trump returned to office with substantially more influence in both the Gulf and Israel, based on his first-term successes in the Middle East, especially the Abraham Accords (for which he’s never been praised by his political enemies).
Four Arab countries formally recognized Israel, beginning with the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain, followed by Sudan and Morocco. The next stage was intended to include Saudi Arabia. One motive put forward by some analysts for the October 7 attacks was that they were intended to provoke Israel into a response that would derail Saudi Arabia’s admission.
Instead of sitting Israelis and Arabs in a room and expecting them to negotiate an outcome, Trump’s approach has been to exert leverage through other players in the region, especially, Egypt, Turkey, and – most importantly – Qatar.
In Jerusalem, they call Qatar “the spoiler state.” Israelis describe the emirate as two trains running behind the same engine. One, led by the Qatari ruler’s mother and brother, supports the Muslim Brotherhood and is an unmistakable hater of Israel. The other, led by the prime minister, Mohammed bin Abdulrahman bin Jassim Al Thani and several other senior figures, seeks rapprochement with the West.
The Qataris were shocked when Israeli jets on Sept. 9 conducted an airstrike in Doha targeting the leadership of Hamas. They then signed onto Trump’s peace plan at a meeting in New York Sept. 23, hosted by Trump and Qatari Emir Sheikh Tamim Ibn Hamad Al Thani, and attended by the leaders of eight Arab states, along with members of the Organization of Islamic Cooperation.
Netanyahu was then browbeaten into accepting the plan (and also forced to apologize to the Emir for the airstrike). It was somewhat ironic that the airstrike made the peace plan possible. As well, Trump’s attack on Iran’s nuclear facilities in June gave this negotiation some very sharp teeth.
“If you would rather leave peacemaking to the historians and diplomats, then you may wait a long time for wars to end,” suggested Niall Ferguson of the Hoover Institution at Stanford University, in an Oct. 15 Free Press article. His advice? Go to the “deal guys: They get the job done.”
In a sense, both Israel and Hamas had accomplished their goals. Israel had broken the Iranian axis of terror by eliminating Hezbollah and Hamas as a fighting force, along with the Iranian nuclear threat. Hamas had succeeded in luring Israel into a trap that led it to become hated and isolated around the world. This included the labelling of Israel as genocidal and the global call for a Palestinian state.
The rest of the 20-point peace plan will be addressed in a step-by-step fashion. Meanwhile, Israel must ensure that it retains freedom of action in Gaza, by decisive action against any attempt by Hamas to rebuild its army, its rockets, its battalions and its divisions.
Henry Srebrnik is a professor of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.
Features
Why Fitness Routines Fall Apart — and How to Rebuild Yours
Every spring, gyms see a flood of hopeful faces. New shoes, fresh playlists, unwavering intentions, by mid-summer? Half of them vanish into the fog of abandoned routines. The story repeats year after year until it starts to feel almost scripted. Why does enthusiasm evaporate? The easy answer involves willpower but that explanation misses the point. Habits don’t fail because people are weak. Life stress, boredom, and monotony ruin routines. Timely lever pulls can change narratives. The hardest part is persevering when motivation wanes.
Mistaking Motivation for Momentum
Most chase that opening surge, the lightning strike of motivation, but then stop searching once enthusiasm fizzles. A scroll through sites like PUR Pharma (pur-pharma.is/) or a glimpse of an influencer’s progress triggers a burst of action: new workout gear ordered, plans scribbled in planners destined for dusty drawers. Yet momentum fades when small setbacks pop up (a late meeting here, rainy weather there). Real progress comes from building systems stronger than any fleeting pep talk. Those who frame fitness as something owed to motivation end up back at square one every time life interrupts, which it always does.
Overcomplicating Everything
It’s tempting to turn wellness into a science fair project with spreadsheets and specialized equipment lined up on day one. This is the allure of complexity disguised as seriousness, a new diet paired with seven types of supplements and four color-coded bottles. Simplicity gets lost in the noise almost instantly. Most successful routines rely on two principles: keep it simple and keep showing up even when everything else is chaos outside those gym walls. Anyone insisting that perfection is required before taking step one has already constructed an excuse not to begin at all.
Forgetting Fun Completely
Who decided exercise must hurt or look like punishment? Somewhere along the line, fun got swapped out for grind culture and “no pain, no gain.” That isn’t just unappealing, it’s unsustainable over months or years. If sessions feel like torture devices borrowed from medieval times, nobody should be surprised when commitment falters fast. Seek activities that actually spark some joy or curiosity, a dance class instead of yet another treadmill session, maybe, or play a pickup game rather than slogging through solo circuits again and again.
Ignoring Recovery (and Reality)
Sleep deprivation, disguised as discipline, fools anyone, except perhaps uncritical Instagram followers. Ignoring recovery turns ambition into tiredness faster than any missed session. Because bodies break without rest, routines must breathe with owners. Cycling, real leisure, and honest self-checks regarding weekly goals build endurance, not continual pushing.
Conclusion
Change rarely arrives by force alone but usually grows quietly from patterns repeated imperfectly over time, even if last month looked nothing like this week so far. Drop the hunt for nonstop inspiration. Instead of breaking behaviors at the first hint of stress or boredom, build habits that last. People who rebuild methodically after every stumble or detour make progress, not those who peak and then fall.