Uncle Ben

Ben Golub who passed away on Sunday at the age of 97 was Uncle Ben to me (insert “rice” joke here). He was also my Godfather - and he was there for me when my parents were gone – only it was long after I was a kid.

As he looked at the world through the eyes of a businessman, he might say our relationship was a barter arrangement. He’d give me a glimpse into the early 20th century, and I’d give a glimpse into the beginning of the 21st century.

As the Rabbi recounted during his funeral today, his life read like a Michner novel;
- He came to the U.S. from outside of Minsk, Russia at the age of 6
- Spent over 3 weeks traveling in the hull of a ship, where he was exposed to all aspects of the human condition, and as a result had to be quarantined on Ellis Island when he first arrived
- On that first night in a new land (I used to love having him tell me this story) he had ice cream for the first time. And he loved it so much; he only had ½ of it and put the other half under his pillow to save it for the next day. In that story, in that first day, were 2 themes that followed him throughout his life. He got presented to him what would end up sustaining his family (ice cream) and start his son-in-law on what would be his career. The story also reinforces how early and how ingrained in him was the importance of saving money
- Then, at the age of 10 after only completing 3rd grade, he went to work full-time hauling Seltzer bottles up tenement apartments as a delivery boy
- A couple of years later he started working in his brother’s butcher shop, first deliveries, then learning the craft
- In his late teens with the help of his family, he opened his own butcher shop, and whatever he didn’t sell he’d send to his brother’s shop – as he had a thriving business
- Things didn’t go as planned, so he started selling ice cream. At first he’d rent a horse by the day, and also had to feed it one meal a day while he peddled his ice cream
- And the rest is history

Speaking of history, as a kid he marveled at the gas lighters who would light the street lamps of New York before the city was electrified. He used to talk about how if you wanted light in your apartment you had to put a quarter in the meter and you’d get an hour of gaslight.

It’s hard for me to conceive of all the change he experienced during his lifetime. As a result, our time spent together has given me an even deeper appreciation for all I, and I would submit we, have – regardless of our station in life. There’s no way I’d ever get a sense of what he, and all our parents or grandparents or great grandparents went through coming to this foreign country to give us the opportunities and lifestyle that far exceed what life would have had in store for us if they hadn’t come to the United States.

But my gratitude for Uncle Ben doesn’t end there. He also gave me a roadmap for my future. I love learning new things, and I learn best by someone else demonstrating something so I can see how it’s done, it’s much clearer for me that way.
And Uncle Ben taught me two keys to growing old (in addition to good genes);
- He always kept busy doing things that were meaningful to him
- He was always inquisitive, always wanting to learn

After Aunt Ann passed away he started selling real estate and I believe he was showing properties into his late 80s. He also became fascinated by computers, took classes in them. I remember getting cryptic emails from him well into his 90s that read like they were from an older gentleman who was hard of hearing.

Hello?

Howard?

How are you?

He also used to complain about getting a lot of pornographic email. I’m sure it had nothing to do with his email address BigBen@hotmail.com (that goes under the category of truth is better than fiction). When he was around 90 he took a computer apart to try to figure out how it worked (no he didn't get it back together). And he would ask me questions like, "What is this thing...iPod? How does it work? How do they fit all that music into it?" Two weeks ago tomorrow on our way to Thanksgiving we were talking about how amazing GPSs are. “Look Uncle Ben, we’re 27.6 miles away from Roberta and Stan’s house, 27.5, .4…”. Always inquisitive. Like that 6 year old must have been having ice cream for the first time.

Unfortunately I don’t have his gene pool as he was my uncle by marriage, but as I never got to find out how old the men in the Fertig clan are when they die from natural causes, I’ll take the roadmap that my godfather has given me to map out that path, and I’ll always be grateful to him for that too.