Sunday, October 28, 2018

HATRED KILLS INNOCENT VICTIMS IN PITTSBURGH BECAUSE THEY ARE JEWISH





No automatic alt text available.

These victims of hatred have names, they were innocent human beings. Let us give them the respect of acknowledging that that they were human beings and not a "story" that fades away until the next hate killings. 

They were all Jewish and murdered simply because they are Jews. Sadly the killing of innocent human beings, minorities, ethnic groups, those perceived as "different", and anyone who is seen by others as "unamerican" in their beliefs are now in danger of being targeted for murder by the hate mongers, bigots, and those seeking to blame others for anything that suits their own bigotry, prejudices.This is the new "normal" for our Country. Who will be next?



Eleven lives abruptly ended on Saturday when a gunman stormed the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh's historic Squirrel Hill neighborhood.
On Sunday, Karl Williams, Allegheny County's chief medical examiner, released the victims' identities in a news conference.
Among those killed were a pair of brothers and a married couple. The oldest was 97 years old, and the youngest 54.
"To the victims' families, to the victims' friends, we're here as a community of one for you," said Pittsburgh Mayor Bill Peduto. "We will be here to help you through this horrific episode. We'll get through this darkest day of Pittsburgh's history by working together."
    These are the victims of the Pittsburgh shooting:
    Jerry Rabinowitz
    Dr. Jerry Rabinowitz, 66, of Edgewood Borough, Pennsylvania
    Jerry Rabinowitz, 66, came from Edgewood Borough, Pennsylvania, and was a primary care physician in the area for many years, some of his patients told CNN.
    His nephew, Avishai Ostrin, shared a photo on Facebook of his uncle, who he said always wore a bowtie that "made people smile" and "made his patients more at ease."
    "You know how they say there are people who just lighten up a room? You know that cliche about people whose laugh is infectious? That was Uncle Jerry," he wrote. "It wasn't a cliche. It was just his personality."
    Ostrin said if there was a message his uncle would want everyone to take from the tragedy, "it would be a message of love, unity, and of the strength and resilience of the Jewish people."
    Susan Blackman knew Rabinowitz for at least 35 years, she told CNN. He was her family doctor and cared for her three children. She went to see Rabinowitz every quarter.
    "He was like a member of the family, and a member of the extended family," she said. "Like somebody you know that's always part of your community. ... Dr. Jerry was just somebody who, when you see him, your eyes light up."
    "I can't imagine the world without him," she said.

    Brothers Cecil and David Rosenthal

    David Rosenthal, left, and Cecil Rosenthal
    Cecil and David Rosenthal, 59 and 54, were from Squirrel Hill.
    According to their obituaries posted by the Ralph Schugar Chapel, Cecil was a devoted Tree of Life congregant. David worked for Goodwill Industries, and was a hard worker who was recognized for his commitment a number of times.
    ACHIEVA, a Pittsburgh nonprofit that provides support for people with disabilities, posted a statement about the Rosenthal brothers, calling them "two well-respected members of our community' and "extraordinary men."
    "Cecil's laugh was infectious. David was so kind and had such a gentle spirit. Together, they looked out for one another," said Chris Schopf, a vice president for residential support at ACHIEVA. "They were inseparable. Most of all, they were kind, good people with a strong faith and respect for everyone around."
    The brothers always sat in the back of the temple and greeted people as they came in to worship, according to Suzan Hauptman, who told CNN she grew up at Tree of Life synagogue.
    "They were like the ambassadors because they were always there," she said. "And they will always be there in our hearts."
    Laura Berman, the cantor of Temple Sinai, said Cecil was a "beautiful man" and a "sweet, gentle soul."
    "The kindest soul you would ever meet," she said. "A smiling face. He was one of those embodiments of the community. Just open, warm, smiling, wanting to help and just in his beautiful simplicity. That's who he was."

    Rose Mallinger

    Rose Mallinger, a 97-year-old from Squirrel Hill
    Rose Mallinger, a 97-year-old from Squirrel Hill, was the "sweetest, lovely lady," said Robin Friedman, who told CNN that Mallinger was a secretary in her school's office growing up.
    Mallinger regularly attended the synagogue with her daughter, Friedman said, and likely knew everyone there. She always offered a friendly greeting, a hug and a smile.
    Her daughter, Andrea Wedner, 61, was among the wounded, a family member said. She remains hospitalized.
    Despite her age, Mallinger was "spry" and "vibrant," Friedman said.
    "She had a lot of years left."
    Elisa Schwartz, a family member, remembered Mallinger -- her grandmother's cousin -- in a tribute on her Facebook page, calling the 97-year-old "one of the matriarchs of the family."
    Schwartz encouraged people to donate blood to help survivors.

    Bernice and Sylvan Simon

    Sylvan, 86, left, and Bernice Simon, 84.
    Sylvan, 86, left, and Bernice Simon, 84.

    The Simons, a married couple from Wilkinsburg, Pennsylvania, were "kind, generous and good-hearted individuals," according to their neighbor, Jo Stepaniak.
    She lived next to 84-year-old Bernice and 86-year-old Sylvan for nearly 40 years, she said, and they were the "sweetest people you could imagine.
    "They wanted to give back to people and be kind," Stepaniak said, adding that the Simons always tried to help out in their small neighborhood and in the Jewish community.
    "They were loving and giving and kind," she said, "gracious and dignified."
    People hold candles outside the Tree of Life Synagogue after a shooting there left 11 people dead in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood of Pittsburgh on October 27, 2018.

    Daniel Stein

    Daniel Stein, 71
    "He was a great guy," Halle said. "He was a fun guy, he had a dry sense of humor and everybody loved him."
    Halle said he and his family were shocked by his uncle's sudden death at the synagogue, where Stein went every Saturday.
    The Squirrel Hill resident was retired, his nephew told CNN affiliate WPXI.
    In a post on Facebook, Stein's son wrote that Saturday was "the worst day of my life."
    "My mom, sister and I are absolutely devastated and crushed!" Joe Stein wrote on his Facebook page. "Our lives now are going to have to take a different path, one that we thought would not happen for a long time."
    Joe Stein said his father was a "simple man" who "did not require much."

    Joyce Fienberg, 75, of Oakland neighborhood, Pittsburgh

    Joyce Fienberg
    Joyce Fienberg, 75, was a former research specialist at the Learning Research and Development Center at the University of Pittsburgh, the center said on its Facebook page, calling her a "cherished friend" and "an engaging, elegant, and warm person."
    Fienberg's husband Stephen, an acclaimed statistician, passed away two years ago after battling cancer, according to Carnegie Mellon University, where he taught for 36 years.
    Jason Connor, one of Stephen's former Ph.D. students, told CNN the Fienbergs treated Stephen's students like family. Joyce Fienberg would welcome the students into their lives and would continue to send them cards long after they'd left Carnegie Mellon, Connor said.
    She was also a grandmother, and has two sons, Connor told CNN.
    "Everyone says this, but she really was an enormously caring person," Connor said. "She was a very petite woman but lit up a room with her huge personality. We weren't just welcome in the classroom, but into their home."
    Fienberg grew up at the Holy Blossom Temple in Toronto, the temple said on its Facebook page. She and Stephen were married at the temple, where her confirmation class photo still hangs on the wall.

    Richard Gottfried

    Dr. Richard Gottfried, also known as Rich..
    Richard Gottfried, 65, of Ross Township, Pennsylvania, opened a dental practice together with his wife, Peg Durachko, in 1984, according to the practice's website.
    In 1996, the couple joined the local Discovery Study Club, a local group that's part of an international organization of dentists and specialists who offer educational lectures and workshops to encourage excellence in dentistry, the site said.
    Gottfried, who was Jewish, and Durachko, who is Catholic, helped prepare other couples for marriage through the St. Athanasius church.
    Patrick Mannarino, the North Hills School District superintendent, sent out a note to the district that said Gottfried had been the district's dentist for a long time. He and his wife were "a fixture in the lives of those in our community," Mannarino said.
    "We are deeply saddened by this tragedy," he added, "and our thoughts and condolences go out to all of those affected including Dr. Durachko and her loved ones."
     Melvin Wax, 88, of Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh
    Melvin Wax was a retired accountant, father and grandfather with an easy-going nature. He was quiet but loved to tell jokes.
    One of his passions was going to synagogue for services.
    "That was his routine. That was as important to him as breakfast to most people," said Bill Cartiff, 56, of Scott, who on Sunday was gathered with Mr. Wax's family at their home in Mt. Lebanon.
    The family was told that Mr. Wax — who went by Mel — was leading shabbat services in the basement of Tree of Life Saturday morning when the shooting began.
    Irving Younger, 69,  Mount Washington, Pittsburgh
    Irving Younger could be quiet, but longtime neighbors said that once you got him talking, it didn’t take long to catch on to his two greatest passions: his faith and his family.
    “He was the most wonderful dad and grandpa,” said Tina Prizner, who lived next to Younger for the past several years along Smith Way in Pittsburgh’s Mt. Washington neighborhood. “He talked about his daughter and his grandson, always, and he never had an unkind word to say about anybody.”
    Younger, 69, was a former small business owner and youth baseball coach.
    Outside of work, Younger was a devout participant in his congregation, which only recently had begun holding services at the Tree of Life.
    “He went every day. He was an usher at his synagogue, and he never missed a day,” Prizner said. “He’d come home, maybe grab a bite to eat and go back again.”
    Prizner, who is not Jewish, was supposed to serve as a lector at St. Mary’s and made it to the church Sunday morning, but found herself too overcome with grief to speak.
    She and other neighbors reflected fondly of memories conversing with Younger and seeing him take joy in simple things, like passing out Halloween candy.
    “He was so kind,” Prizner said from the entrance to her home along the sloped residential street beside Younger’s in Mt. Washington, her eyes tearing up. “He was a beautiful person, a beautiful soul.”

    To give support for the victims families, survivors, and their synagogue a fundraiser to help the congregation with the physical damages to the building, as well as the survivors and the victims’ families. Respond to this hateful act with your act of love today.

    This is a GOFUNDME Certified Charity campaign. This means that money is processed by GoFundMe's nonprofit partner PayPal Giving Fund, and funds are sent directly to the Tree of Life Congregation. As the campaign organizer, I cannot access or manage any of the donations or disbursements. GoFundMe is in contact with and supporting the synagogue throughout this process.


    Sunday, September 23, 2018

    ANOTHER BIRTHDAY




    ANOTHER BIRTHDAY


    My older son Steven Nathaniel Wolkoff would have been 41 years old today.

    What can a parent say on the birthday of their dead child?

    A living child asks for a birthday party. 

    As they become older, you, as the parent, ask them what they want for their birthday. There’s dialogue. 

    It’s tradition to remember your child's birthday, to not do so ignores that they lived.
    But what exactly is a parent supposed to do on the birthday of their child when he is gone?

    Not gone, as in out of town or at the beach, or out of the country. Gone as in, no longer alive.
    A dead child doesn’t want. 

    A dead son asks for nothing.
    What does a mom or dad and siblings do?

    Where’s the rule book for recognizing birthdays of a dead child?

    Steven was born on the first day of Fall and died on the first day of Summer. 
    There is something odd to me about the the significance of the equinox and solstice in his life and its parallel meaning to the Earth. 

    If the autumnal equinox represents balance, then the summer solstice was most certainly the day we felt our world come to a deafening halt on the longest day of the year.

    Steven lies dead in a grave because of the negligence and indifference of those who killed him, stole his life at the age of 30, and have tried to erase that he ever lived.

    I mourn what was, what could of been, and what will never be.

    You deserved so much better my son, it just wasn't meant to be. 


    Love, Dad 

    Thursday, July 26, 2018

    ELIN ERSSON IS HER NAME


    Elin Ersson is her name who made global headlines Monday, July 23, 2018 when she refused to take her seat on a plane to save an Afghan man from deportation. 

    She is a very courageous young woman who stood up and got involved to help a stranger who was being victimized. 

    “It is fully legal to refuse to sit down on a flight to avoid deportation,” Ersson’s 14-minute-long live stream shows the intense emotions she and other passengers went through as she refused to take a seat for the sake of a man she didn’t know but wanted to save. Elin documented her act of civil disobedience before the flight from Gothenburg to Istanbul took off; she was attempting to prevent the deportation of a fellow passenger, a 52-year-old man, to Afghanistan.

    In a world where most people ignore the needs of others, turn the other way or are not prepared to help others, Elin is a breath of fresh air and a small ray of hope that humanity still exists in others. 

    On the video below, you can hear irate plane passengers shouting: “We want to go, sit down!” Ersson, her cheeks reddening slightly and her eyes becoming teary, remains standing, and her voice is steady. A member of the cabin crew on the flight from Gothenburg to Istanbul repeatedly asks her to turn off her phone and sit down, or leave the plane. He describes her as an “unruly passenger”. Ersson, young and slight, stands her ground. “I’m doing what I can to save a person’s life,” she says.

    Did she feel awkward, or exposed? “I was so caught in the moment that I didn’t really realize that everyone was looking at me,” says Ersson on the phone from Sweden. “My focus was all on stopping a deportation to Afghanistan".
    More than three million people have now watched the video of Ersson’s protest as she attempted to stop the deportation of an asylum seeker. “I’m not going to sit down until this person is off the plane,” she says, and she remains standing, her phone’s camera focused on her face because other passengers didn’t want to be filmed. 

    The atmosphere seems hostile. An unseen British man approaches her. “You’re upsetting all the people down there,” he says. “I don’t care what you think.” He tries to take her phone, but a flight attendant gives it back. Someone else says: “You’re preventing all these passengers going to their destination.” Ersson has an untouchable comeback: “But they’re not going to die, he’s going to die.”
    She finally breaks down on the film, not from the hostility of a handful of people, but from the uplifting support of other passengers. People start applauding her; a man three rows away stands up to tell her he is with her. A football team at the back of the plane stand up, too.

    In a democracy, in a humane society, everyone has the right to voice their criticism of the law.This includes the right to self-empowerment when justice is being violated. You always have the right to civil disobedience and resistance when others are being abused. 

    It's essential for our society to incorporate the principle of defending victims, actually speaking up by getting involved that makes this all so important. Sadly we usually see indifference, "a not my problem attitude", and often outright cruelty against those who are being preyed upon by others. 

    Way to go Elin Errson, it takes just 1 HUMAN being WHO IS WILLING to speak up to make a difference against evil and defend those who need our help.



    Saturday, June 30, 2018

    MOM



    I thought of you with love today
    but that is nothing new

    I thought about you yesterday
    and days before that too,
    I think of you in silence
    I often speak your name

    All I have are memories
    and your picture in a frame.
    Your memory is my keepsake
    with which I’ll never part
    I have you in my heart.

    Hug me strongly, and carry me home
    Dear Mom, one more kiss again

    I thought of you today, but that is nothing new. I thought about you yesterday and days before that too. I think of you in silence, I often speak your name. All I have are memories and your picture in a frame. Your memory is a keepsake from which I’ll never part. God has you in His arms, I have you in my heart.

    See more at: http://www.idlehearts.com/?p=24438I thought of you with love today
    Today is the day that my Mother, Dorothy Wolkoff died on June 30th,1997. It was sudden and there was never a chance to say goodbye.
     
    My mom was the strongest, toughest, most courageous, gentle, caring person I have ever known. 

    Biology aside, mom's can be magical human beings. A mother's love is unlimited, it can heal us, make us feel safe, and inspire us. My mother was all that and more. How lucky I am.

    She taught me much, but in particular, emphasized the importance of self pride, work/life ethics, compassion, caring, and being humble. 

    In spite of her hard life, she provided for my sister and myself, by doing whatever was necessary for us to live, we never lacked for anything because of her grueling unselfish efforts. 

    My mother was the only one who believed in me, particularly during my youth, and stubbornly never gave up, no matter how much I screwed up. 

    Without her support during my most difficult years as a youngster, a wild acting out teenager, she ALWAYS stood up to me, for me, guided me, and refused to give in, or give up on me. It was not easy for her to do that, but she would not back down, ever.

    My mother literally saved my life many times, she was one of a kind, I will always remember and love her for that. 
    I told my mom in many different ways over the years how much she eventually contributed to my taking the correct productive path with my life all because of her. 

    I spent much of my adult life making my mother proud of me, telling her how much I loved her. 

    Whatever is good in me, came from my mother. 

    I love and miss you mom.

    Thursday, June 21, 2018

    STEVEN NATHANIEL WOLKOFF-SEPTEMBER 23, 1977- JUNE 21, 2008

                                                                   

                                                                 
         STEVEN NATHANIEL WOLKOFF-SEPTEMBER 23,1977- JUNE 21, 2008
                                                                        



    .........................................................................................................................................................
     Also - CLICK ON HERE & LISTEN TO AN ORIGINAL INSTRUMENTAL WRITTEN & COMPOSED IN MEMORY OF STEVEN NATHANIEL WOLKOFF, CALLED "STEVEN'S SONG".  This composition is a quiet and moving work and is meant to serve as a tribute to the life of Steven Wolkoff. It makes use of simple but haunting harmonies and a melody that will stay with the listener long after its final notes have finished sounding. 

    SEPTEMBER 23, 1977- JUNE 21, 2008
    BELOVED SON, BROTHER,GRANDSON,
    NEPHEW, COUSIN, CHERISHED LOVE
    GOOD FRIEND

    GENTLY THEY GO,
    THE BEAUTIFUL,
    THE TENDER, THE KIND

    FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS



    THURSDAY, JUNE 21,2018


    Today is the anniversary of the tenth year of an eternity in agony, marking the horrific day, June 21, 2008, that my oldest child, Steven Nathaniel Wolkoff, was cruelly killed at the age of 30, his life brutally stolen from him, family, friends, me. 

    I dread the coming of this day every year.

    Steven died on the first day of Summer, it was 5 PM on a Saturday afternoon, exactly nine years ago.

    It seems so much longer than ten years have gone by since we lost him. 

    I still feel that it cannot be true, somehow suddenly he will appear, call me on the phone, or send me an email. That feeling never leaves, it is always there, I will wake up from this nightmare, and Steven will be here, alive.

    There are mornings that I wake up believing for a few seconds that Steven is alive and it was just a horrible nightmare that he is dead. Then the reality strikes me full force in the face and gut,that he is dead forever, how can that be?

    Oh how he loved the summer months and life itself. He was looking forward to it all, never realizing that his life would end that day in 2008.

    I posted the other pictures above of Steven because they are some of my favorite ones, and also he is so real, alive in them, and for a second, he seems to actually be here.

    Today, on this tenth anniversary of Steven's tragic death, if you can, please take a moment now to remember who Steven was and how deeply he is missed by each of us.

    The last time I spoke to Steven, was on the phone,Tuesday evening, June 17 , 2008.

    I didn't know that moment was going to be our last.
    The last time I would talk to you, and hear your beautiful voice.

    The last time I would tell you that I loved you, and hear you say “I love you too dad”. Strong and so real, so vibrant and alive.

    A smiling face, with twinkling eyes, your special smile, my fine young man, my oldest child.

    The shattered remnant of my heart with holes so black and fathomless no light can ever fill. I am and will be in shock forever.

    Time has passed before me, so bleak and dark and long, the wind that whispers through the trees, the brightest star at night, the rain on a dismal day, my endless dreams, nightmares, the constant thoughts, hearing the door bell ringing, seeing the 2 Nassau County Policeman at my door at 4 AM asking me politely if they could come inside, no eye contact from them.

    I knew and asked them "which one of my children", their response "do you have a son Steven living in San Francisco, he was killed in a car collision". 

    That moment is frozen in my mind, repeating itself endlessly almost every waking and sleeping moment of my life.

    The tragic death of Steven was caused by stupid, senseless acts. Every day, each night, my mind is focused on the highway at the collision, looking at the photos of Steven’s face while he is alive on a stretcher placed on the highway and then later, he is dead, covered by a tarp on that same highway.

    The collision seems less a random act, and more determined, by a series of factors, not so benign, each one a contributing cause of my son’s death.

    Steven was killed not by accident, but by horribly connected actions, and inaction's, of many others, each building on the impact of the other. Steven’s death began when distinct acts of design and error grew to become the chaos of negligence.

    Steven was killed by the lack of highway signage, a secret  California State cover up of a structurally flawed highway design known as a "death trap", whose design errors were deliberately never corrected,violating the written safety codes of the  same government department responsible for building the highway, and the carelessness of a local community program, having a gathering, unaware that their visitors, were parking, turning, merging, clogging this already too narrow stretch of road that had no separate turning lanes.

    Steven was killed by a 21 year old drug impaired driver, who did not even have a driver’s license, an illegal alien. His danger to others not in his thoughts, but mostly I think he just didn't care about the effects of his irresponsible actions on Steven.

    Steven was killed by an army of first responders, Paramedics, Emergency Medical Technicians, Police, Firefighters, and Park Rangers, etc., busy littering the highway with equipment, while they tried to look busy and important.

    Steven courageously lived for about an hour after the collision while multiple systems of rescue professionals failed to get him to the hospital, and were unable to properly provide a minimum standard of the medical skills that they were trained to perform.


    The first responders panicked, although Steven was breathing on his own, they performed an unnecessary medical procedure that they had never before done in their life. It is called a Needle Cricothyroidotomy which they failed to do properly and in doing this they missed his airway, suffocating him, vital oxygen crushing against his heart, lungs and diaphragm, taking his breath away, and horrifically killing him.

    The responder’s mission, to keep Steven medically stabilized for triage care at the Hospital, failed, lost in a few hundred square feet of disorder, with no one in charge, no one leading, standing, telling, helping, shouting, or recognizing the obvious signs of their medical errors.

    My son Steven was killed by carelessness, thoughtlessness, and negligence on the part of multiple entities and individuals.

    A gifted, talented, precious, irreplaceable, meaningful life was stolen from all of us who loved him deeply, because of the actions of so many who, each in their own way, miserably failed to help Steven, all destroying Steven’s life.

    I cannot believe that my son Steven lies buried in a grave so young, me dreaming of things that he was and might have been. 
      
    I am not religious, nor do I believe in god, so the traditional Mourners Kaddish prayer for Steven are meaningless words to me. 

    I have written my own Mourners Kaddish as a way to honor Steven, and I post it every year at this time.

    It is my way of expressing that Steven left behind a legacy of goodness, and worthy descendants, those who loved him, who will always remember that he lived.

    These sentences speak directly to Steven, because his pain and loss need to be honestly described in real words that accurately reflect my true feelings.               

    STEVEN NATHANIEL WOLKOFF'S MOURNERS KADDISH

    Steven Nathaniel Wolkoff, Shmuel Nacham Ben Yaakov,  (Samuel Nathan, Son of Jerry).
                          

    September 23, 1977- June 21, 2008

    I am sorry that you are dead.

    I am sorry you suffered so painfully, on that awful day, as you fought to stay alive.

    I am sorry for the agony you felt, I see it in your eyes, face, and body from the horrific evidence photos.  I see and feel it in my endless nightmares.

    I am sorry for the fear, terror, unimaginable pain you felt in fighting for your life, as they killed you. I know the truth of your courage in being able to fight so bravely to stay alive.

    I am sorry for you because you were not killed by accident, but instead by the senseless, stupid, careless, actions of so many others who could have saved your life, but instead, each in their own way, miserably failed you that day, never realizing or even considering taking responsibility, or accountability for the consequences of their actions, inaction's, indifference, and incompetence.

    I am sorry you died not due to fate, nor randomly, but were instead killed by the cascading chaos of connected, dysfunctional, defective entities and others, all who caused your preventable death.

    I am sorry that you died because the State of California did not care about your life and decided not to fix a dangerously unsafe road, instead they deliberately hid the structural defects in the highway that made it into a death trap.

    I am sorry that you died because of the 21 year old drug impaired driver speeding out of control into your car. His danger to you not in his thoughts, but mostly I think he just didn't care about the effects of his irresponsible actions.

    I am sorry about the inept, licensed, qualified, medical first responders who had no idea, not a clue, of what they were doing medically to you as they killed you. They have no consciences and lied afterward to hide how they murdered you in cold blood.

    I am sorry for you, that so many corrupt, ugly cowards of evil, who have evidence of the truth, but have no conscience to speak up, remain silent, lie, omit, refuse to come forward to admit their responsibility in covering up the true facts that all contributed to killing you.

    I am sorry for those whose toxic evil allowed all of the above to be done to you and escaped from being held accountable for participating in your death.

    I am sorry that your soul and body were desecrated in death.   

    I am sorry for the wicked hideous ones who desecrated your body in death and refuse to take accountability for their violation of your body, your soul.

    I am sorry that it has took us five years to finally successfully legally force the spiteful, hateful,evil San Mateo County Coroner to release your final remains for proper burial.

    I am sorry that you died in spite of the true medical facts that show you should be alive today.

    I am sorry for all the multitude of evil ones who have tried to defame you and disrespect your name, your life.

    I am sorry that life is so cheap and yours has no value to those who killed you, trying to erase you ever existed.

    I am sorry that the Legal system is weak, corrupt and I was not able to obtain justice for you. I failed to accomplish getting that Justice for you, please forgive me.

    I am sorry for my failing as your father to keep you from dying.

    I am sorry you did not leave the beach one second earlier or later to return home that day of June, 21, 2008.

    I am sorry that I was not there to protect you.

    I am sorry that I was not there that day to comfort you, hold you, ease your pain.

    I am sorry that I don't know the last thoughts in your mind before you died.

    I am sorry that you died alone, with strangers, and no one even had the courage, kindness to hold your hand.

    I am sorry that you died lying on a hot highway pavement, in a place unfamiliar, in the middle of nowhere.

    I am sorry that no one had the decency to cover your right arm and both feet, as you lay dead under the blue tarp.

    I am sorry the Medvac trauma helicopter was delayed in arriving there by 4 minutes, too late to stop the killer first responders from touching you.

    I am sorry that I was not even able to protect your dignity in death.

    I am sorry you cannot cry.

    I am sorry you cannot scream.

    I am sorry you cannot laugh.

    I am sorry you cannot smile.

    I am sorry you cannot feel.

    I am sorry you cannot talk.

    I am sorry you cannot breathe.

    I am sorry you are silent forever. 

    I am sorry that the world said nothing, heard nothing, says nothing about the injustices done to you.
      

    I am sorry that it was you and not me.

    I am sorry that I had to bury you and that you didn't bury me first, as it should be.  


    I am sorry for everything that I forgot to say now, or cannot, and did not say here.

    I am sorry for YOU because you are not here, you are NO MORE on this earth. 

    I am sorry that you cannot rest in peace.

    More than anything, I am sorry that you didn't have a chance to say goodbye to those you loved.

    Your family will always honor you, remember you, miss you, keep you in our heart, preserve your memory in lovingly telling future generations about you, and love you forever. 

    We all miss you so very much.

    I mourn what was, what could of been, and what will never be.

    You deserved so much better my son, it just wasn’t meant to be.

    Your brother, sister, mother, family, and others who love you, will do the same. We will never forget YOU, never stop loving you, our precious beloved Steven. NEVER.

    Steven, I can only say, I am SORRY, SORRY, I am so SORRY.

    My heart is broken, my Steven is gone, and we will mourn forever.


     Hebrew -Amen. Love, Dad.