Daniel Bloom
1925 - 2016
Michael Rothschild
Dear friends and family...
I'm sorry that I couldn't be here in person, but Lucy and Elizabeth were so sweet to ask me to be a part of this memorial. I'm glad to have the opportunity to send a few words across the country.
My name is Michal Rothschild, and Dan was my mother Naomi's little brother. Although they weren't geographically close over the latter years of their lives, I know that she cared greatly for him, and kept in touch as best as she could. At one point, he told her that he was collecting phone books from around the country for the residents of his home, and asked her to send him some local ones. In my mother's typical fashion, she turned this into a massive quest, gathering phone books from everywhere and mailing them to Dan. Every trip we took included a phone book heist (which became more and more difficult as they went out of fashion). It became such a project that we began to wonder if Dan knew exactly how she would react to a request, and had just been pranking her! If so, it was a great one. But I know that he cared about her too. I was just this week reading a letter that he wrote to me in 2008, worried about her living situation. When I spoke with him on the phone, he was always concerned about her. Their friendship lasted a few months short of ninety years, and I know that it made my mother happy to hear that he was comfortable and making friends. It was great to bring my mother out to California to visit him a few years ago, to celebrate that 90 year friendship.
They grew up as not just siblings but as good buddies in the 1920s and 30s, enjoying the carefree joys of childhood in New York City. My mother always told the story of how she really wanted a dog but couldn't have one, so she took Daniel to the pet store, fitted him with a collar and leash, and walked him around the apartment! I will just have to assume that Daniel enjoyed this as much as my mother did - he never spoke of it, and my mother didn't mention whether or not she ever took a turn in the collar. I also assume that their much more mature older sister Ruth didn't think much of these antics...
I know of these days mostly from the voluminous photographic and film archive left by Dan's father, my grandpa Dave. Every minute of Dan's childhood was thoroughly documented. So I was able to see his bris (well, the PARTY for his bris). I saw his early childhood, with summers on the family farm in New Jersey and vacations in Bermuda. Dan was the long awaited boy in the family, and Dave was quick to take him along on his "manly" outings. I have even seen the movie of their guy's trip to Chicago on Dave's boat when Dan was a teenager in the summer of '41. They sailed up the inland waterway along with his cousins Jack and Lester, and a friend Bert Miller. You can see Dave and Dan having a blast, grilling steaks on the beach, Dan looking cool in his bathing suit, showing his cousins how to smoke.
My mother always was proud of how brilliant Dan was. Graduating from Yale as a teenager, finishing Dental School and then serving in the armed forces - she always would talk about his brilliant mind. And it was clear that she wasn't just bragging. Even in his declining years, Daniel continued to learn, to research, and to write. Although his vision failed him towards the end, I was happy to keep up a correspondence with him with large print and lots of photographs. It was always great to get a letter back from Daniel with the words "Free Postage for the Blind" on the envelope instead of a stamp. Grandpa Dave would have been proud of that trick...
Fair winds and following seas, Uncle Dan - I hope that wherever you are, you never stop learning.
I'm sorry that I couldn't be here in person, but Lucy and Elizabeth were so sweet to ask me to be a part of this memorial. I'm glad to have the opportunity to send a few words across the country.
My name is Michal Rothschild, and Dan was my mother Naomi's little brother. Although they weren't geographically close over the latter years of their lives, I know that she cared greatly for him, and kept in touch as best as she could. At one point, he told her that he was collecting phone books from around the country for the residents of his home, and asked her to send him some local ones. In my mother's typical fashion, she turned this into a massive quest, gathering phone books from everywhere and mailing them to Dan. Every trip we took included a phone book heist (which became more and more difficult as they went out of fashion). It became such a project that we began to wonder if Dan knew exactly how she would react to a request, and had just been pranking her! If so, it was a great one. But I know that he cared about her too. I was just this week reading a letter that he wrote to me in 2008, worried about her living situation. When I spoke with him on the phone, he was always concerned about her. Their friendship lasted a few months short of ninety years, and I know that it made my mother happy to hear that he was comfortable and making friends. It was great to bring my mother out to California to visit him a few years ago, to celebrate that 90 year friendship.
They grew up as not just siblings but as good buddies in the 1920s and 30s, enjoying the carefree joys of childhood in New York City. My mother always told the story of how she really wanted a dog but couldn't have one, so she took Daniel to the pet store, fitted him with a collar and leash, and walked him around the apartment! I will just have to assume that Daniel enjoyed this as much as my mother did - he never spoke of it, and my mother didn't mention whether or not she ever took a turn in the collar. I also assume that their much more mature older sister Ruth didn't think much of these antics...
I know of these days mostly from the voluminous photographic and film archive left by Dan's father, my grandpa Dave. Every minute of Dan's childhood was thoroughly documented. So I was able to see his bris (well, the PARTY for his bris). I saw his early childhood, with summers on the family farm in New Jersey and vacations in Bermuda. Dan was the long awaited boy in the family, and Dave was quick to take him along on his "manly" outings. I have even seen the movie of their guy's trip to Chicago on Dave's boat when Dan was a teenager in the summer of '41. They sailed up the inland waterway along with his cousins Jack and Lester, and a friend Bert Miller. You can see Dave and Dan having a blast, grilling steaks on the beach, Dan looking cool in his bathing suit, showing his cousins how to smoke.
My mother always was proud of how brilliant Dan was. Graduating from Yale as a teenager, finishing Dental School and then serving in the armed forces - she always would talk about his brilliant mind. And it was clear that she wasn't just bragging. Even in his declining years, Daniel continued to learn, to research, and to write. Although his vision failed him towards the end, I was happy to keep up a correspondence with him with large print and lots of photographs. It was always great to get a letter back from Daniel with the words "Free Postage for the Blind" on the envelope instead of a stamp. Grandpa Dave would have been proud of that trick...
Fair winds and following seas, Uncle Dan - I hope that wherever you are, you never stop learning.
