Tree of Life, part two

 October 27, 2018, 11am.

 

I remember it was specifically 11. My wife Norma had a volunteer duty she wanted to make at 11:30, and she was just leaving. I was in my grey gym sweats, not having changed into my day clothes.

 

She opened our front door, and there are SWAT officers out in the street. They yelled over that there was an active shooter situation, that she was go get inside and lock the door.

 

I made a point of staying calm. I looked out the back window, locked the back door, and tried to find some local news coverage. I hunted around on cable, but found nothing local being broadcasted. 

 

A few minutes later, her sister Chris called to say that our neighborhood was on CNN. It was not only on CNN, but was being covered on all the cable news networks. So there was Tree of Life, our backyard neighbor, from a helicopter view, with little information other than there was a shooting involved.

 

No later than quarter after 11, there was a SWAT officer with tactical weaponry on our little side porch. It was very lightly drizzly raining. We said hello to one another, but I largely left him to his business. Shortly after that, I noticed two more officers behind my neighbor Lucy’s house. Her backyard separates ours from the main temple of the synagogue.

 

I think it was about twenty minutes past the hour, no more than thirty, that the New York Times called. They asked for me by name, Benjamin Opie. I described what little I knew, how upsetting it all was. After all, it was my neighbors in that building.

 

I didn’t ask, but I figured out how they came to contact me. They must have looked up the property lots online, found an owner’s name, then looked up my number on directory service. I was probably the only person they found nearby with an active landline, at home during the 11 o’clock hour on a Saturday. Most of my nearby neighbors would have been in temple at the time themselves.

 

The former president would have you believe that nobody pays attention to the Times any more. I want to say that nothing could be further from the truth. The first article, with my name and quotes, was posted online before the hours’ end. I heard back from numerous people, including a friend in Australia and Henry Grimes’ wife Margaret. She called, wanted to know that I was okay. I was so mixed up, I didn’t figure out who she was until we ended our phone call.

 

It was some time around 11:45 (+/-) that the officer told us that the shooter had been taken into custody. We knew a good half hour before it was publicly announced. I watched as a camo-wearing group of SWAT officers did a sweep around the perimeter of Tree of Life, weapons drawn. We just weren’t told if there was more than one person, but now it was clear there was only a single gunman. We were still told to stay inside at least until 12:30, if not later. 

 

I’ve retold these circumstances so many times, they seem very concrete. The next day, several days, becomes more of a blur. After my name was online in the NYT article, later that day I received calls from the Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, Boston Globe, ABC News. Maybe more. The next day the Daily Beast called, and I was interviewed in my backyard by channel 5 Tel Aviv. After those, my wife said, “Don’t talk to any more of those people.” I was done with them even if she hadn’t said anything.

 

So picture if you will, if you don’t know the streets around me. Tree of Life sits on Wilkins Ave, at the corner of Shady Ave. Travel a short block south on Shady, and you intersect with Solway St. That’s where I live, near the intersection. Shady was blocked from all traffic for several days, and Wilkins in front of Tree of Life was sectioned off for more than a week. I had to enter and exit my street at the other end of the block, and even then I had to show ID at the corner to go home. 

 

Those are the basic circumstances of that day. I suppose there’s not that much to tell really. It does make me feel closer to the circumstances than even if I was across the same neighborhood. 

I've been writing this quickly, with little editing. I'll follow up with more details, and what happened in the following days, in a future post.

 

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Morton Feldman: Rothko Chapel. It’s not intended as an elegy or requiem. It’s inspired by the titular meditative space. Feldman said it had echoes of the synagogue in it. It seems like the right piece for today.

 

Tree of Life, part one

Wednesday, October 26, 2022. As I write this, it is the day before the anniversary of the Tree of Life shooting.

 

If you know me, you probably know that I am of neighbor of that synagogue. My property doesn’t quite border its land; there is a neighbor’s yard in between. Nonetheless, as I look out onto my back yard, most of what I see is the main temple.

 

I am not a witness to the shooting. I didn’t directly hear or see anything. I am a witness to many of the circumstances around Tree of Life that day and afterwards. My story is ancillary at best.

 

I did not have the trauma of being an eyewitness of the events on October 27, 2018. I am not Jewish and cannot claim it was an attack against “my people.” However, these were my neighbors. I knew one of the people killed (Irv Younger) and would have recognized several of the others.

 

I intend to make several blog posts in the next few days recalling the events on that day and afterwards. It’s fair to ask why, and I can’t give you a definitive answer. I don’t feel like it’s a form of self-therapy. I’ve told story of October 27 many times over, to the point where I just assume anyone I know has already heard the story. 

 

It is the closest I have come to witnessing an extraordinary event. That deserves to be documented, even if I my story is only a small footnote in the larger narrative. 

 

There are other more personal reasons, though. I’ve seen a number of friends and associates die since this time. I don’t ascribe a meaning to this, only that the shooting is a sort of marker in the timeline of my life. I’m nearly sixty years old, and I know that aging means that I will see more of the people I know and love will pass away before me. I’ve been very fortunate that I haven’t lost more than I have. My parents and sisters are all among us, for example. Since the shooting, I’ve lost three people I knew to suicide, two to brain cancer, one to a drug overdose, and I’m probably forgetting others. This is in addition to the crushing reality of the COVID-19 pandemic during this time. 

 

The Tree of Life shooting left me very raw emotionally. It felt that my feelings were very close to the surface most of the time. The sting has blunted since that time, but I am left changed.

 

I love Squirrel Hill. I don’t want to be anywhere else. It’s a wonderful place. I have nice home, good neighbors (mostly). I live on an attractive block in an attractive segment of a lovely neighborhood. There’s a movie theater, used record and CD stores, bookstores, and many places to eat within walking distance. I can walk to work when the weather is fair. I couldn’t ask for much more in a place to live.

 

I do take the shooting a little bit personally. It has been a scar on a place that I love. I don’t want that to sound trivial and self-centered. I didn’t lose any family, and it wasn’t an act of hatred directed at me or any of my relatives. Yet, this is my neighborhood. Those were my neighbors. I feel it, and I’m going to write about it.

 

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Current listening: Morton Feldman, Violin and String Quartet. I’ve been listening to a lot of Feldman recently, mostly his work from the 1980s and some from the 1970s. This piece is particularly long, minimal, and I’d even describe it as “icy.” I recommend locating his work Rothko Chapel and listening on October 18. It seems appropriate. 

Briefly, about Anton Fier

In my previous post here, I mentioned Anton Fier's death in a larger statement about Pharoah Sanders. Now I've read that his death was an assisted suicide, done in Switzerland. 

I've been getting small pieces of information about Anton's later life. It was filled with frustrations, financial problems, recovery from alcoholism, and physical difficulties. 

Were his physical challenges terminal? I don't know, I've not read anything to indicate that. He does seem to have become increasingly despondent and possibly isolated.

I support the principle of doctor-assisted suicide. If one is faced with a terminal condition, with months of terrible pain and loss of facilities, and no hope of recovery or cure, yes. I think you have the right to check out early.

Does Anton qualify? It sounds to me like a different situation. I'm not passing judgment on his decision (and it clearly was a decision on his part, having to make the necessary arrangements and fly to Europe to have it done). 

Or am I judging? Was his life so unbearable? I've known two people who committed suicide in the past several years. But in their cases, they were both dealing with severe mental health issues that eventually grew out of their control. Neither bought a one way ticket to Zürich to have a procedure done to them.

 I just don't know. Take care of yourselves friends, know that you have value.