Lew in Sentinel

An obituary for Lewis Gene Weinstein (1934-2018) was published in Santa Cruz Sentinel today, after his passing on 1/17/2018. It traces his life, such as his childhood, education, independent but private personality, successful career in social work, and final retirement life in Aptos, California.

While reading it, I could not help but think about my life since June 1996 back in Santa Cruz. I remember that Lew was so excited he told Paul that he was going to hike and garden with us. At his guidance, we planted two kinds of gladioli, pink and deep red, along the fence of our residence at 1842. That summer Paul and I were rewarded with many splashes of colors. Later, we dug out some bulbs for our own house at 1887. Surprisingly, one of the transplanted pinks gladioli bloomed last June after more than two decades' dormancy in the ground.

We ended up not hiking one single day together after all. Lew was just retired from his part-time consultation work whereas I had a family to support, by becoming a substitute librarian for both Santa Clara County Library, and San Jose State Library for 1.5 years, and working full time for DIALOG for another 1.5 years, until the company was relocated from Mountain View to North Carolina.

During the chaotic period of job loss, and new job hunting, Lew was with us 100%. He took care of Nick in his Aptos home while Paul and I were in Cary, training new teams. When a duplex became available on our same street, he immediately came and asked us to let Joe and Linda, our realtors, put our names on the top of their list. He also recommended to us his capable loan officer, so as to make Paul and my combined income work for the house loan. With his wise advice, our family savings and support, we got our dream home in August, 1998. It is truly sad to see that Lew, the instrumental friend, is no longer with us.

One of the lessons Lew taught us is be confident, and independent. During my nearly two decades' service at Santa Cruz Public, I have run into many a familiar mortal coil, and bully in the workplace. With justice and law on our side, I have dealt with one difficult situation after another, and manged to speak my own mind and serve the public fairly and equally, which is borne out by my 9 papers and one monograph.

Thank you, Lew! Rest in Peace.

   

Mass for Jim King

Yesterday at 11:00 am, Paul and I met in the library parking lot, and then walked together to Holy Cross Church to attend a Wednesday Mass for our friend, Jim King.

The presiding pastor's sermon zoomed in on one word, JUSTICE, to describe the life and work of James Moore King (July 30, 1943-November 11, 2017). Jim was one of those lawyers who seeks justice in the courtroom, as a way of life, as a whole. His sense of justice was for a vision of peace on earth. That’s what Jim was: thirsty for justice. That’s the way Jim lived his life.

The pastor also pointed out that justice, death, and freedom were a metaphor for human relationship, moving to the life of other people. He emphasized listening, truly listening, and genuinely listening, which enables human relationships. He also stated that Death could also be served as a bond for bringing people together, for there was someone more important for the time being. It was a one on one relationship.

After the mass, the King family invited all guests to a lunch in the Church Hall. The immediate family focused on the quarter century marriage between Jim and Sharon, whereas his long time friend Bernard recalled a series of worthy and mutual causes shared by himself and Jim. Together they won remarkable cases with local governments. To them, winning was not all about money, but the principle.

I did not stay to the end of lunch, due to many office tasks awaiting me. On my walk back, I could not help but recall the first time I saw Jim King one spring Friday evening in 1989. Dr. Vivian Sobchack brought both Jim and Paul to Porter College to see an ongoing art exhibit there. Jim was very witty with his slightly tipsy pink face and sparking eyes, which never dimmed hence. Jim relished reading the local newspaper Santa Cruz Sentinel, and never missed anything. If Paul and I happened to have a piece in it that day, he would invariably make a point that we had been noticed, when we chanced to meet him downtown. We never got to see Jim regularly ever since he sold his house on the West Side, and eventually moved out of Santa Cruz to Arcata.

During the lunch, his younger stepson talked about his initial sternness as a stepfather. Such sternness was apparently transformed into a gentle reminder whenever he saw Nick, "Stay with school, as long as you can."
 

A Time for Everything: Pauli Is One-Month-Old

      1 There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven—
      2 A time to give birth and a time to die; A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
      3 A time to kill and a time to heal; A time to tear down and a time to build up.
      4 A time to weep and a time to laugh; A time to mourn and a time to dance.
      5 A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones; A time to embrace and a time to
         shun embracing.
      6 A time to search and a time to give up as lost; A time to keep and a time to throw away.
      7 A time to tear apart and a time to sew together; A time to be silent and a time to speak.
      8 A time to love and a time to hate; A time for war and a time for peace.
      9 What profit is there to the worker from that in which he toils?   
     10 I have seen the task which God has given the sons of men with which to occupy themselves.

 Looking back at our life in last two months' time, we cannot help feeling how truly Ecclesiastes 3 has reflected what we have gone through recently. On 15 December 2017, we celebrated the wedding of Wendy and Peter; on 20 December, we greeted the birth of Pauli. On 15 January 2018 we mourned the passing of Lew.

It is a busy time quickened by the fast pace of digital age. We need to slow down, taste and live every moment thoroughly. Or everything will go like a blurring blink.