Eulogy Given in Memory of Judge Ben Novicoff

 

Like many of you here today, I had been hoping to celebrate Ben’s 100^th birthday with him in just a few weeks. As we gather today we do so to pay tribute to the 99 years that his presence graced this Earth and to express our sadness that he is no longer with us. Thinking about Ben now many of us might say that he managed to grow up without growing old.  What do I mean by that?  All of those of us who knew and loved him, recognize that he used all the days of his life in a way that made a difference to so many.  Yes, he was one of Tifereth Israel’s elder statesmen, but even up to the time when the synagogue went virtual in March due to COVID 19, he was not one to shy away from coming out for services nor programs.  I still have an image of him sitting in my family room last Purim, dressed in his costume, a bathrobe with a crown on his head ! No matter the weather conditions, no matter the time of day, Ben was present to lend support to those who gathered on Shabbat, holidays, and yes, even for funerals.  Ben delighted us with his sense of humor, his stories, and his incredible wit.  Just last week he was asked by a visitor, “How are you feeling?” and he responded with his usual dry sense of humor, “With my fingers!” In reality, no matter how he was feeling, he continued to show great concern for the future of this country, the world in general, and for the young people who would be inheriting the Earth in the years to come.  You couldn’t stump him about current events and if you wanted a perspective that stretched across generations, he was able to provide that as well.  Ben was not loud in sharing his wisdom, but if you listened carefully to him, you noted that his words were quietly instructive. 

It is customary to refer to a judge and even a retired judge as YOUR HONOR.  Even though Ben retired from the Workman’s Compensation Court in 1996, it was not a stretch to continue calling him YOUR HONOR.  The 40 years he spent helping those whose health or livelihood were threatened by an injury at work were admired by his colleagues.  He took a “strong role in making changes for Nebraskans by crafting language that the legislature passed that lowered litigation costs, provided higher benefits for injured employees, and saved money for employers.” His knowledge of the law coupled with his sense of empathy for injured workers led his fellow members of the Nebraska State Bar Foundation to award him with their Public Service Award. 

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, of blessed memory,  once wrote a statement that I believe defines Ben.  It goes like this:  “A religious man is a person who holds G-d and man in one thought at one time, at all times, who suffers harm done to others, whose greatest passion is compassion, and whose greatest strength is love and defiance of despair.” 

Ben devoted himself to a 59- year loving relationship with his companion, Aloha Hausner, standing by her in health and in sickness. Their relationship was a major blessing in his life.  When Aloha battled health issues at the end of her life, Ben remained by her side, advocated for her well-being, and never stopped loving her.  When she died, he made a point of coming to shul to say kaddish for her for a full year, showing respect for her memory and for Jewish tradition.  That simple act led to new friendships at shul and a sense of belonging that enriched his latter years.

Most of us know that Ben’s name will live on as a result of the philanthropic donations he gave to the University of Nebraska.  There is a library at the Harris Center for Judaic Studies that bears his name.  A study room at the UNL college of law also bears his name.  Yet those facts do not preclude the reality that one of Ben’s greatest attributes was his humble nature.  When he was being honored years ago at the University for his philanthropy he said, “ I don’t really deserve this honor.  But then,  I didn’t deserve to get arthritis either!”  His contributions were not given for accolades, nor for awards, rather because he was conscious of what it meant to pursue justice and righteousness in all phases of his life. 

Sowing seeds for the future was part of Ben’s mode of operation.  When a group of young men gathered to re-establish a chapter of Sigma Alpha Mu on campus, Ben  attended that gathering as the oldest living member of the original Sammy House at UNL and the Sammy Fraternity  in the country, to  show his support for their endeavor.  The young students loved Ben, even showing up for his 95^th birthday luncheon at the shul to let him know how much he meant to them. In honor of Ben’s 100^th birthday, they had a room at the new hotel being constructed at Innovation Campus named after him and helped establish a national Sammy Scholarship in his  name.  Those two acts of lovingkindness touched him deeply.

Ben’s connection to his family also remained very strong.  He loved to show pictures and tells stories about his parents (Helen and Michael)  brothers (George, Samuel, Abe, and Louis), nieces, nephews (Donald, Elaine, Barbara and Harold, Nancy, and Amy), and cousins (Betty, James, Chuck and Holly).  In the latter days of trying to remain connected to his family members when his hearing was no longer what it used to be, I remember him telling me that he asked his niece, Elaine  to text him rather than call so he could know what she was saying! I know this is a very bitter sweet time for Ben’s family members who live quite a distance from Lincoln since Covid regulations have made it impossible for you to be in Lincoln today to pay tribute to your uncle.

I would be remiss at this time to not mention two very special individuals who helped ensure that Ben was always well-looked after when he needed outside support after his brush with death 5 years ago.  Angela, you considered Ben your mentor but we will never forget that you added a quality that many elderly end up forgoing when they lose their physical prowess.  You provided him with a sense of importance despite waning strength, with a sense of being someone worth listening to.  Cindi, you provided Ben with a sense that he was part of a large family, one that celebrated together, one that laughed together.  I hope you both know how important you were to him.

 

I was rereading a note I had written in an email several years ago after Ben had suffered a brain bleed and was taken to Bryan West Hospital where he had the good fortune of being treated by Dr. Gelber.  When Ben underwent the procedure to relieve pressure on his brain, he was not able to open his eyes, communicate, nor move. After the procedure I was sitting at his bedside holding his hand and I will never forget the moment he opened his eyes and looked into my eyes with a silent but searing gaze of thankfulness. It felt as if his soul was speaking out and saying, “thank you for giving my body another chance at life.” Ben cherished being alive! He made a big point of saying thank you to Loren and Nagonda at his 99^th birthday celebration at the synagogue last year for their part in saving his life after that serious fall in his apartment. He also was grateful to Dr. David Samani for being willing to repair his hip even at his advanced age when it broke months later.  That action allowed him to have many more years of interactions with his cherished friends.

As one who believes that one’s inner essence never dies even when the body can no longer live,  I have no doubt that we will miss Ben’s physical presence in our midst.  Ben, the influence you had on our lives, however, will always remain.  You even touched my life today when I read the obituary you left for the newspaper.  I am thankful for our relationship and that I was able to be present when you so dearly needed an advocate. We will continue to think of you and to be thankful for the opportunity that you were part of our lives.  And I’m sure that when we think about the idea of growing up but not growing old, we will think of you! You lived a life that was full and meaningful.  May your memory always be for a blessing.  May your soul be bound up in the bond of life.

 

Amen