Rabbi Elazar Muskin's Hesped (eulogy)

Rabbi Elazar Muskin, Senior Rabbi of Young Israel of Century City:

Funeral for

רפאל דניאל בן קלונימוס

Dr. Daniel Rubin

Day of Death: February 19, 2014 – 19 Adar Rishon, 5774

Day of Burial in Israel: February 21, 2014 -21 Adar Rishon, 5774

My dear Brenda, Devora and friends:

As we are gathered here today, the words of the איוב come to mind: לֹא שָׁלַוְתִּי וְלֹא שָׁקַטְתִּי וְלֹא נָחְתִּי וַיָּבֹא רֹגֶז (איוב ג: כו ) - "I was not at ease, neither was I quiet, nor had I rest, and trouble came."

Since early October when we learned of Dr. Rubin’s illness and gathered here in this sanctuary to change his name, we have all been anxious and alarmed for his health and well-being. We knew that whatever the medical profession could do was being done, and that whatever his devoted family could do was continually being offered without stop. But as he continued to become weaker, we became more and more concerned, and now we must accept that the Almighty Himself decreed that רפאל דניאל בן קלונימוס should suffer no longer.

Rabbi Soloveitchik זצ"ל often noted that the words of Shlomo HaMelech, סוף דבר הכל נשמע
“at the end of the matter all is heard,” can be interpreted to refer to the end of the human career. Only at the very end of the דבר, at the end of the life story of the human being, are we actually able to understand and appreciate the one we have lost. Only now when speech is so difficult, and we can no longer address our loved one, can we really probe and ask who was Daniel Rubin, and what did he mean to us during his 66 years of life? Together, let us therefore paint a portrait of this very special man that will do justice to his memory.

We are in the midst of reading the Torah portions that describe the building of the משכן, the first synagogue in Jewish life. The great 16th century commentator from Prague, the Kli Yakar, tells us that the Torah’s descriptions of the details of the Mishkan are replete with moral lessons. Just as the Torah describes the construction through the delineation of its אורך – its length; רחב – its breadth; and קומה – its height, so too, we must delineate a person’s character in these three dimensions.

First comes אורך –length. The significance of this aspect of conduct is understood in our colloquial terminology when we speak of one’s line of business. אורך therefore implies the business or the profession in which an individual is engaged.

If I were to ask you what was Daniel Rubin’s business, everyone present would say that he was a medical doctor. But honestly he was so much more than just the definition of the word physician. He was blessed with a brilliant mind and graduated UCLA Medical School. He was accepted to the famous Mayo Clinic in Minnesota for his residency, but he turned it down because Brenda was still studying for her degree here in LA.

Dr. Rubin was a true doctor in the entire fiber of his being, and this inspired him to always want to study new areas of medicine in order to benefit his patients. Dr. Arnie Rotter mentioned to me that he never saw someone who could read so fast whatever you gave him, and totally understand what he read with questions to follow. He was board certified in occupational medicine and dermatology, and did two residencies first in dermatology and then in occupational medicine. Daniel Rubin became the “go to doctor” in southern California in the area of toxicology, saving lives when others couldn’t figure out what was literally killing people. With his razor sharp analysis and his unique diagnostic talent, he was able to pinpoint the poisons that were hurting people in certain work environments. He was called upon to consult with some of the largest corporations in the nation, including Teledyne, in order to create safe working conditions.

Daniel never accepted the status quo. His very close friend, Dr. Seymour Perl, confided in me that Dr. Rubin always wanted to be challenged with new opportunities, and when he became bored with one area of medicine, feeling he wasn’t contributing anything new to that field, he moved on to the next, trying to excel and help people live better and longer lives. He was a fiercely independent doctor who would speak his mind and let people know what he thought was right and wrong. This didn’t always sit well with some of the people he worked with, but he wasn’t motivated to win any popularity contest; rather he was motivated to advance medicine.

During his last six years he served as a dermatologist with a medical group that practiced in a very disadvantaged neighborhood. It was here that he became much more than just a dermatologist to his patients. He often became their major medical provider because he realized that they didn’t have anyone else as their advocate helping them with their multiple diseases. What he saw during the day he brought home with him at night, always trying to figure out how to address their needs in the most efficient fashion. His care and concern were what made him the special doctor that we all respected. He was a true רופא חולים.

The second aspect of personality is רחב, breadth. By this we mean our interests and our concerns. For Daniel רחב included everything in this world. There was nothing he wasn’t interested in learning or trying. He loved traveling and seeing the world. He went with Brenda to Alaska, India and South America, and in each place he was thrilled to try whatever adventure presented itself. Brenda would often remark that he was the best traveling companion one could ever imagine, because he was excited and enthusiastic by every opportunity.

Truth, however, was that his greatest interest was his family. He was an amazing son and son-in-law, who knew how to give respect to his parents and to his in-laws, Joe and Bea Herskovitz. He treated them with genuine love. He was a devoted husband to Brenda for 42 years. Brenda was the greatest influence in his life, serving as his guide through thick and thin. He always respected Brenda for her opinions and would listen to her requests. In the end he would do everything exactly the way she wanted things done. In return Brenda was his source of strength and we all stood in awe of how she nursed him with such care and love during these most difficult months. Brenda admired Daniel for his brilliance, warm personality and true sweetness. She was enthralled with his enthusiasm and his optimism, and she loved his sense of humor. But most of all she knew that he was modest and never a show-off, although he was one of the brightest people she ever met. This modesty always allowed Daniel to accept direction and help whenever he needed it and from whoever could offer it.

His major focus in life was his four children: Amira, Moshe, Devora and Racheli. He made sure to be at home for them because that was his priority. He wasn’t motivated to earn more money; rather he wanted to raise his children with good manners and Torah values. As Rabbi Cunin told Dr. Seymour Perl, “Dr. Rubin was an enormous success. All of his children are observant Jews and his nine grandchildren are being raised to follow a Torah lifestyle as well.” This didn’t come from nothing. He invested his time and energy in his children and served as a model for them to emulate. He was the one who instilled in them the need to say ברכות before and after eating, and he was the one who made sure that at every family meal, whether during the week or on Shabbat or Yom Tov there was always a Dvar Torah. His kids respected and loved him, and his son, Moshe, often remarks how his father is his model of excellent parenting that he tries to imitate.

His true Nachat was his nine grandchildren. Although they all lived far away, he made sure to connect with them in every possible fashion. He was so looking forward and anticipating his eldest grandson, Shalom’s, Bar Mitvzah this coming October, and he carefully followed his progress. When he couldn’t see his grandchildren in person he would Skype. During the past few months he was so concerned that they not be frightened by seeing him with his oxygen line that he insisted to remove it so they could envision the סבא they always knew. In early December during Chanukah, when he was already so weak, he literally pushed himself to travel to Bergenfield in order to be with Devora’s children. He wasn’t able to do much because he would get tired quickly and yet, when Brenda asked him how he enjoyed that trip he would respond, “It was amazing. I was with my grandchildren.”

The third and final dimension of one’s personality is קומה, height. By this we mean one’s ability to look up and see the skies above. It means to have faith in the Almighty and to be committed to the Mesorah of our people. Or as the 19th century Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch wrote, “Torah must remain eternal in the midst of the changing sands of time.”
Daniel Rubin was a proof of this commitment beyond a doubt. Daniel was not raised in an observant home and he lost his father at the young age of 14, but by the time he entered Medical School he was searching for a spiritual path to follow. He was intellectually intrigued by Judaism, and when he heard that Rabbi Cunin was opening the first LA Chabad House in Westwood, he immediately decided to investigate what it was all about. What he found there turned into a lifelong love affair with Judaism. He would become what Rabbi Cunin would proudly call, “My first Baal Teshuva.” He would describe Daniel as, “A serious thinking man who combined sweetness and sincerity into a religious personality.” Daniel was 21 when he put on Teffilin for the first time. The next day he joined Rabbi Cunin on a trip to Brandeis-Bardin for a college summer program, and there he helped introduce the college students to Teffilin, as if he was wearing them his entire life.

Daniel’s love of Torah was the reason he met Brenda. They both were attracted to a Torah class given by David Derovan at the UCLA Hillel. That interest in Torah study never left them. Throughout their married life, they would love attending as many Shiurim as possible. In particular Daniel loved attending our Shabbat Hashkama Minyan, which allowed him the ability to learn after Musaf with a group of his friends. Truth is I never remember seeing Daniel without a Mishna or other Sefer in his hand. He would always be learning, because he never wanted to waste any time.

Daniel was an inspiration to all of us who knew him. His love of Judaism included a strong love of the State of Israel. The first place he traveled to with Brenda after they were married was Eretz Yisrael, and they were planning to make Aliyah this coming October, to join two of their four children already living there.

This afternoon a Shul member who received the email announcing his passing sent me a quick note that read, “Daniel Rubin was one of the kindest, most jovial guys I've ever known. Always a hello and always a smile!” Indeed that was Daniel, but what most people didn’t know was that he was an enormous Baal Tzedkah. Never would he allow a Yom Tov to pass without coming over to me with money and clear instructions, “Give this to someone who needs help.” This was the קומה, the great height and stature that Dr. Daniel Rubin possessed. I, like so many rabbis in this community, have lost a friend that will be impossible to replace.

Daniel, it is now your turn to receive the great reward that awaits you. We will miss you, and we will cry due to your physical absence in our lives, but we know that you will look after us from on high. Go in peace and be our messenger for peace.

בלע המות לנצח ומחה אדני אלהים דמעה מעל כל פנים וחרפת עמו יסיר מעל כל הארץ כי ה' דבר

May the words of the Prophet Isaiah, be fulfilled, "He will destroy death for ever; the Lord God will wipe away tears forever...for the Lord hath spoken it." Amen

Racheli's Israel hesped (eulogy)

I am humbled and in awe of the task before me, of sharing divrei preida about the tzaddik who was our father. I will attempt to put that aside as I’d like for you to know a bit more about who Daniel ben Kalanomous was and he certainly deserves an attempt to be appropriately ushered into the olam haemet. I ask mechila of him in general and from him, my mother, and my family, for anything that may be not right about these divrei preida.

Our father was born in Chicago, Illinois on April 22, 1947, early Iyyar 5707. As an aside, I’ve often thought that with my father’s personality, I think it’s a shame that he wasn’t born a few years earlier because he would have been so excited about hakamat hamedina that I’m pretty sure he would have flown here and been a chalutz setting up the State of Israel.

He was one of two sons born to Clifford and Frances Rubin. His father was a lawyer in Chicago who came originally from Hungary and his mother was a beautiful, put together woman who was born and raised in Scotland. My father was very close to his father and he admired him very much. My father took great pride in the fact that, in spite of not being affiliated much religiously, his father used his clout as a lawyer to call other lawyers in Chicago to raise money for the Jewish Federation. Unfortunately, his beloved father, whose name my brother carries, passed away when he was 14. Soon after, his mother and he moved to San Diego to be close to other family.

While he was still in Chicago he went to the same elementary school as my mother even though they didn’t meet for many years later. He was a bunch of grades ahead of my mother, especially since he skipped a grade, but one of his favorite jokes, and he had many, was that he was probably one of the eighth graders who once laughed at my mother when she, as a third grader, came to get something from his teacher.

After graduating with a degree in Chemistry from San Diego State University, he went to UCLA Medical School. My father was always curious, always passionate. His passion and enthusiasm expressed itself throughout his life in everything- like appreciating small, pretty flowers on the side of an ugly freeway, and like going on all sorts of local and far reaching trips with our mother to places such as India, South America, South Africa, China and Alaska. As a good friend of mine told me when my parents were in India- “your parents are cooler than you are!”  But of those things about which my father was the most passionate, Torah and Judaism were at the top of the list.

He, unlike the stereotypic nonreligious Jew, loved Hebrew school and yearned for more. That love and yearning for Torah and Judaism is what lead him and my mother to meet. There was a joint shiur in Torah for the non-religious and religious Jewish communities at UCLA given by Rabbi David Derovan and my parents met there. More than 40 years after becoming Orthodox, my father was just as passionate as ever about Torah and Judaism. As one good friend said to him a few months ago, “you make us look bad.” He went to daf yomi and would have a chazara shiur Shabbat mornings with his friends. He couldn’t buy enough nor read enough sefarim; meals and, often even phone conversations, did not go by without him sharing a dvar torah. When Moshe and I came to visit in December and had some free time and offered to go out with him, watch a movie with him, do whatever he felt up to, he was most excited about having a chabura with us. But his G-d and his Torah were happy and joyful so what he wanted to learn, in the midst of his illness, 

was the positive, uplifting nevuot of Yeshayahu.

He loved fulfilling mitzvoth, loved the chagim, and was a mentsch who made a Kiddush Hashem wherever he went. Whether that was to the African American and Hispanic librarians on our weekly pre-shabbos library trips as kids, to the strangers on the street, or to his nurses who administered his chemo in the last few months, my father brought a smile to everyone’s face with his warmth, care, and bad jokes.  I know that these qualities in addition to his brilliance helped him help many, many people on all levels. He and his religious Hispanic patients bonded over their faith and along with the prescription for the cream that would help them, my father would also prescribe saying specific prakim of tehillim or salmos as they called them.

In another example of his ben adam l’chavero par excellence, my father took the pasuk “lifnei iver lo titen michshol” seriously and was careful, as apparently his father had been before him, to move rocks and branches out of the way to ensure that no one would trip.

In his love of living Torah, he was also looking forward, after my nephew, Shalom’s bar mitzvah this fall, of fulfilling my mother and his life-long dream of making Aliya. Although he will not be able to do so as he wished, as it says in the Gemara in Sanhedrin- . יורש כרעא דאבוה Yoresh Kar-ay d’avuha- the inheritors, the children are the legs of the father- Moshe and I are here planting roots in Israel because of our parents- we are extensions of them and are able to be here because of their support.

My father was a very modest man, who was always looking to learn and grow in all areas. I know no one who worked harder, throughout his life, to become a better person. Even in the last few months, he worked on his emuna and continued to inspire us. There are many examples, but Devora told the story how when she was having a harder moment with his illness, she said to him that it was unfair that the doctors caught the disease in such a late stage. He responded to her: “Is it fair that I’ve been married to a wonderful woman for over 40 years? Is it fair that I have wonderful children and grandchildren?”

My father’s passion for Torah and mitzvoth was no less strong than the overwhelming love and devotion he felt and showed to our mother and to us his kids, kids in law, and his grandchildren. My parents celebrated their 42^nd wedding anniversary in August and he recently remarked that they were more in love than ever. Forty two years is great, but I know that both of them wanted at least 60 if not 70 years together. As our father, none of us doubt for a second how much he loved us. He, together with our mother, were Amira, Moshe, Devora and my biggest cheerleaders- whether it was related to a new haircut, a new outfit, or some accomplishment- it was great, we looked great, we were great.

He was so loving a father that, for example, when we, as children, woke up from a bad dream, he would take a tissue, put cologne on it and tuck us snugly back into bed. As we got older, he communicated that same love and care by sending us on the plane with 5 dollars of shaliach mitzvah money, $20 of “fun money” and a plane letter that he wrote on paper that he fashioned into a paper airplane. He gave that love and devotion easily to every new member of the family. For example, when Eric and I got engaged last May and he found out that Eric’s father had been a jazz musician, he took out a CD six hours long that taught him the basics of Jazz and every phone conversation from thereon included some reference to the syncopation about which he had recently become an expert.

I could go on, but especially with Erev Shabbat, we do not want to keep you. I, on behalf of my family, would like to thank you all so very, very much for you all of your support that you gave, all the tefillot that you said and the zechuyot that you built up for our abba- our worldwide community is an amazing thing and it meant so much to my father and means so much to all of us.

My father was a fighter who fought for things he believed in and was putting up a great fight to live as long as possible. I believe that Hashem may have done a chesed with him and used some of our tefillot to spare him the even more pain that he was about to have to go through. I have no doubt that his seat in shamayim is very, very close to Hashem.

Amidst the pain and longing and wishing that Hashem kept him with us for a lot longer, I pray that my siblings, Eric and I can help carry on his rich legacy of love, passion, enthusiasm, and devotion to family and Torah and commitment to always making a Kiddush Hashem.

Racheli's Hesped - read in LA

I think that when most people in the LA community think about my Abba, they think about a real mentsch; a friendly, sincere, positive guy who liked to make bad jokes and make people laugh and could also laugh at himself. I think they think about how he loved Torah and Judaism and made learning Torah a priority. As one good friend said to him a few months ago, “you make us look bad.” I think they think probably think about a doctor who really cared for his patients and those friends who came to have him look at something. They probably also know that he was a loving husband and father and that his kids, kids in law, and grandkids brought him the most amount of joy. Those assessments are all accurate, but allow me to share some brief examples on some of the above generalities- but know that it is just a taste of who my father was.

How much of a mentsch was my Abba?

He was such a mentsch that he was the favorite patron of the Robertson library where he used to take us as kids on our weekly Friday afternoon trips. The African American and Hispanic librarians’ faces lit up when he would walk in and start to schmooze with them. My mother talks about how when she would
take us, she would try to stay anonymous, but my father had made that impossible. The same was true more recently with the chemo staff at Cedars who were so happy to see him because he made jokes and tried to make their work day better.

How much did he love Torah and Judaism?

So much so that his favorite gift to receive was a sefer- which is what we tended to get him for his birthday every year. My father loved the chagim and his love and excitement of Judaism never seemed to wane. Hardly a conversation went by without a dvar torah and when Moshe and I came to visit in December and had some free time and offered to go out with him, watch a movie with him, do whatever he felt up to, he was most excited about having a chabura with us. But his G-d and his Torah were happy and joyful so what he wanted to learn, in the midst of his illness, was the positive, uplifting nevuot of Yeshayahu.

How much did he love our mom?

He still liked to call her baby, call her his girlfriend, missed her terribly if they had to be apart for even a short amount of time and recently said how they were more in love now, in their 43rd

How loving of a father was he?

He was so loving that, for example, when we, as children, woke up in the middle of the night from a bad dream and had trouble going back to sleep, he would take a tissue, put perfume or cologne on it
and he would tuck us snugly back into bed with something comforting. He, together with our mother, were each of our biggest cheering sections- whether it was related to a new haircut, a new outfit, or some accomplishment. He was so loving and devoted and he gave that easily to every new member of the family. When Eric and I got engaged last May and he found out that Eric’s father had been a jazz musician, he took out a CD six hours long that taught him the basics of Jazz and not a phone conversation went by without my father referencing the syncopation about which he had recently become an expert.

I could go on, but I know that our time is limited. I would like to thank you all for you all of your support that you gave- especially with all of us far away- and the zechuyot that you built up for our abba- it meant so much to my father and means so much to all of us.

Amidst the pain and longing and wishing that Hashem kept him with us for a lot longer, I pray that I can help carry on his rich legacy of love, excitement, and devotion to family and Torah and mentschlichkeit to everyone.

Amira's hesped (eulogy)

From Amira Rubin:

(The levaya was erev Shabbos and I wanted everyone to get home for Shabbos -- Abba wouldn't mind, he would make us take our erev Shabbos showers before chatzos whenever he could. He was a big fan of everyone getting ready for Shabbos early. So here are thoughts of what I would have shared.)

Thank you so much for coming.

I am proud to be my father’s daughter. I aspire to be like Abba. I like to think that I’ve inherited a lot of his personality traits. Abba continues to be my life mentor. When I spoke with Ima before making my flights and was trying to get to LA for the hespedim and then Newark for the flight to Israel she said “do what you need to do, know that Abba loved you no matter what.” And I know this to be true.

Abba made everyone feel comfortable. Abba loved to entertain guests. He’d know a little bit about every topic under the sun, he was a voracious reader and would just pick up facts about cities, careers, global and local issues. He’d ask guests questions about themselves and since he was a semi-expert in everything he could get a conversation going with anyone. He’d meet you once and remember your hometown or your random hobby and every time he saw you he’d talk about that detail like you and your fun fact were the most important thing in the world. He had an amazing memory and used it for the power of good.

He knew just the right things to say when I was having a challenge with a coworker, or with the chesed events I run. B”H I’ve been zoche to make a bunch of shidduchim, many of them through events, but it takes a lot of work to run events and make sure they are good. I would give Abba my post-event recaps, and I’d complain because he really knew what I needed to hear. And I’d say I don’t know if I can do this again and after the last event he said “you say that every time and then every time you pick yourself up and run another event!” And he was right. I think most people's default setting is to focus on the challenge and forget about the big picture and the positive opportunities. But Abba was great at finding the golden nuggets in bad situations.

Abba always got excited. About everything! I’d come to breakfast and he’d say “what a nice skirt!” And it was an ugly plaid skirt, it was the school uniform skirt, but to Abba everything was exciting.

We were very blessed to have a few rabbis come speak in Abba’s honor over the past few months and Rabbi Krohn even called Abba and mailed him DVDs. Abba said when he spoke with Rabbi Krohn he felt touched by an angel. The pursuit of Torah learning was very dear to his heart and B”H he passed that along to all us kids.

There are tons of funny stories and happy times, that’s what I want to remember. For example, there was a family that moved from Ohio and they were very lonely in LA. My dad went up to them in the kosher pizza store and invited them for Friday night dinner. They were so touched. “Don’t you need to ask your wife?” and Abba said no, don’t worry about it. And my mom was very welcoming to guests too. This couple went on to become very close friends of my parents.

He died a tzadik, but really worked on himself to reach that madrega. He read tons of Rabbi Twerski and Rabbi Pliskin books, he went to counseling, gave counseling. And just last week I had asked Rabbi Zelig Pliskin to give my dad a call, and he did. Abba was too sick to pick up the phone but he told me later that he received two voice mails from R’ Pliskin and was very touched by the chizuk. To Abba, everything was under the heading of etzba H-shem.

Abba and I shared an incredible bond and I wouldn’t trade that for anything in this world. So while I am sad for my loss I am confident that the life lessons Abba has taught us enable us to now be the one to fight the dragons and become the hero, learn more Torah and make other people feel good.

Abba is in our hearts, and I feel so grateful to have him as my father. And thank you again for being here. It means a lot to us.

Intro

We are so saddened to have lost the dear, one-of-a-kind Daniel Rubin (Daniel ben Kalanomous v'Faygel) ז"ל. Now we take upon ourselves the task of honoring his memory and posting pictures, videos, audios (i.e. eulogies), and written tributes to a man whom I called אבא/Abba/Dad. As my brother-in-law Yosef said, Abba never felt like a father-in-law to me, but a true Dad in all the best possible ways.

Sending love and peace from Jerusalem,
Eric "The Jazz Dude" (as he called me) Samuels