23/4/97
Never
say
die
In some ways, Max is a typical new immigrant: he had to undergo
preparation,
paperwork,
upheaval,
packing
and
unpacking,
excitement
and
anxiety.
Like
all
new
Israelis,
Max
came
here
with
ambitious
optimism.
But
there
was
something
a
bit
out
of
the
ordinary
when
Max
presented
himself
to
the
Absorption
Ministry
official
at
the
airport:
ג€Name?ג€
ג€Max
Sobel.ג€
ג€Age?ג€
ג€Ninety-six.ג€
And
then
Max
turned
on
his
trademark
charm,
and
the
official,
belying
her
soulless
profession,
saw
him
off
with
a
kiss.
Max
is
the
sort
of
fellow
who
can
melt
the
crust
off
the
most
miserable
clerk.
He
leaves
'em
grinning
wherever
he's
been.
His
good
humor
rolls
forth
as
if
he
has
nothing
to
worry
about.
Death
wouldn't
even
rank
among
his
top
10
concerns.
ג€I
didn't
come
here
to
die,
you
know.
I
came
here
to
live.ג€
He'd
wanted
to
settle
here
since
his
first
visit
--
in
1921.
He
left
his
shtetl
in
Ukraine,
where
he'd
become
more
than
a
little
fed
up
with
the
regularity
of
pogroms
inflicted
on
the
35
Jewish
families
by
their
80,000
neighbors.
The
last
straw
was
when
his
cousin,
about
to
be
married,
was
gang-raped
and
flung
down
a
well.
There
had
to
be
a
better
place
for
a
Jew
to
be
a
Jew.
Palestine
held
out
that
promise,
but
in
1921,
they
weren't
looking
for
nice,
they
wanted
tough.
ג€They
needed
men
for
road-building,
they
told
me.
But
I
had
this
curvature
of
the
spine,
so
they
said
go
to
the
United
States,
maybe
they
can
straighten
you
out.
Then,
you
can
come
back.ג€
He
settled
in
Burlington,
Vermont,
and
found
work
with
a
caring
Jewish
family
in
their
department
store
(ג€I
made
a
living,
but
I
didn't
set
the
world
on
fireג€).
In
all
that
time,
for
75
years,
he
dreamed
of
living
in
Eretz
Yisrael.
So
why
didn't
he?
The
usual
reasons.
His
wife
didn't
want
to
live
here,
he
was
settled
in
his
job,
they'd
bought
a
modest
home.
But
with
the
years
came
widowhood
and
retirement,
and
the
chance
he
waited
for.
Max
has
had
a
lot
to
remember
in
his
nearly
97
years,
so
he
can
be
forgiven
for
forgetting
a
few
details,
such
as
where
he
now
lives
(if
he
should
ask,
it's
Jerusalem's
Har
Nof
neighborhood).
But
the
ol'
noggin
still
works
fine.
He
can
still
recall
back
as
far
as
oh-six,
when
he
entered
the
renowned
Grodna
Yeshiva.
He
remembers
ג€meetingג€
Trotsky
--
well,
almost;
ג€he
was
only
a
couple
of
miles
away,ג€
he
chuckles.
And
he
recalls
visiting
Herzl's
grave
--
in
Vienna.
He
rambles
a
bit,
repeats
himself
sometimes,
but
ask
him
a
question,
and
he's
off,
jauntily
regaling
his
much,
much
younger
audience
with
colorful
recollections
of
the
Russian
Revolution,
World
War
I,
and
ג€when
Germany
was
the
best
place
for
the
Jews.ג€
His
hearing
isn't
so
good,
he's
bent
and
his
legs
need
a
little
shake
to
get
working,
but
once
he
gets
himself
wound
up,
he's
full
o'
beans.
In
the
airport
on
the
way
here,
he
hooked
up
with
a
traveling
Mexican
band
and
entertained
waiting
passengers
with
a
modest
Fred
Astaire
imitation.
He's
almost
97,
for
goodness
sake!
Until a few weeks before he made aliya, Max was still driving.
In
fact,
he
had
just
bought
a
new
car
two
months
before
he
left
Burlington.
Now that he's in Israel, you don't suppose he's going to just sit
around
and
wait
for
the
end
to
come?
Nah.
ג€I
plan
to
join
the
army,ג€
he
says.
ג€I
want
to
fight
the
terrorists.ג€
I suspect he may be kidding.
His expectations are a tad more sedentary than that: he'll
be
walking
quite
a
bit,
he's
determined
to
learn
Hebrew
and
most
of
all,
he
wants
to
learn
Torah
and
Gemara.
He
says
he
has
ג€come
in
search
of
Isaiah.ג€
And
if
he
picks
up
where
he
left
off
in
Burlington,
he'll
be
wooing
the
ladies.
He'd like to do some touring. He allows that the country
has
changed
in
75
years,
but
his
most
cherished
destination,
ג€the
Koysel
[Kotel],ג€
promises
to
be
unchanged,
to
the
brick.
The
biggest
single
difference
between
Jerusalem
then
and
now?
He
wrinkles
his
nose.
ג€Then,
it
was
full
of
shmootz
[dirt].ג€
Beit Shemesh is another old haunt he wants
to
visit.
That's
where
he
was
domiciled
during
his
eight-month
stay
in
1921.
ג€Is
Beit
Shemesh
still
there?
I'd
like
to
see
it
someday.ג€
There is a beautiful lightness to his lilting, Yiddish-tinged
expression.
His
skin
is
rippled
but
smooth,
his
lively
blue
eyes
evince
a
clever,
wise
and
gentle
soul.
He
has
a
sweet
habit
of
taking
your
hand
when
he
speaks
to
you,
or
stroking
your
knee.
Max
is
funny
in
the
best
way:
he
doesn't
try
to
be.
ג€In 1921 the Jewish Agency gave me money to go to America,
to
fix
my
spine.
I
owe
them
still
that
money.
So
I
made
my
will
that
if
I
die,
all
my
money
goes
to
the
JNF.ג€
Did you catch that? ג€If.ג€
UPDATE:
Max
died
a
year
later.
This
country
wouldnג€™t
be
the
same
without
all
these
lovable
hundred-year-old
Russians...
