The Lives They Led (09-05-2002) A cross-section of the Jewish victims of 9-11. Adam privatester - Staff Writer It may never be known exactly how many Jews died on Sept. 11. But based on the list of names, and biographical information compiled by The New York Times, and information from records at the Medical Examiner�s Office, there were at least 400 victims either confirmed or strongly likely to be Jewish. Many worked at Cantor Fitzgerald, the trading firm that lost more than 600 employees when the first plane crashed into the north tower. There were Jewish employees at other World Trade Center firms including Marsh and McLennan and Aon, as well as three firefighters, and pbuttengers on the four hijacked planes. According to the Israeli Consulate, seven Israeli citizens were end on Sept. 11. Other sources report that as many as 50 immigrants from the former Soviet Union were among the dead. The Jewish Week compiled a cross section of victims, from a Rockaways fireman to a Long Island securities lawyer and mother, an Israeli-born consultant and a Manhattan engineer who spent long nights Stephen Belson, 51, Rockaway, Queens �The Fire Department Was His Other Family� If Jews are a small minority in the Fire Department, Irish Jews are even more rare. But that description fit Stephen Belson, born in Fresh Meadows, Queens. And he had a letter from the Irish Consulate here to prove it. Stephen was so close with his fellow firefighters and former fellow lifeguards that they arranged for him to be an �honorary Irishman,� says his mother, Madeline Brandstadter. �He was an Irishman in the Rockaways,� where he lived as an adult, she says. �They just considered him one of them.� Although Stephen grew up with what his brother, Bruce, calls a �laid back� approach to Judaism, he was quick to sign up with Ner Tamid, the Jewish firefighters� buttociation, when he joined New York�s Bravest. He was a regular at their meetings. Known at Ladder Company 24 in Manhattan as �Bells,� he volunteered for holiday duty so his brother firemen could celebrate Christmas and Easter. Stephen, 51, was a lifelong bachelor. �The Fire Department was his other family,� says Bruce. But he was also close with his nephew, Jack, now 14. Bruce, two years older, says he bonded more with his brother in later years, and was awed by his heroism on Sept. 11. As the doomed towers burned, Stephen rushed into the World Trade Center alongside Battalion Chief Orio Palmer. Belson�s remains have not been recovered. �I probably learned more about him since 9-11 than before,� says Bruce, an electrician. There was no chance to say goodbye. Neither Bruce nor their mother saw Stephen in the final months of his life. �The last time I saw him was in July, when he introduced me to his new lady love,� recalls Madeline Brandstader. �But he died doing what he wanted to do. It was at the core of his existence.� Hagay Shefi, 35, Tenafly, N.J. Return To The Promised Land After Hagay Shefi�s first ceremony, his wife, Sigal, promised to return him to Israel one day. This month, she kept her promise, escorting his remains from Cedar Park cemetery in New Jersey to the Jewish state for a second memorial service. Shefi, 34, a native of Ramat Ilan, was the founder of a computer-consulting firm, GoldTier Technologies, in New Jersey. He was at Windows on The World in the north tower of the World Trade Center when catastrophe struck. At 9:04 a.m., Shefi called Sigal and told her a plant had gone off. �He didn�t witness the crash, but he felt it,� she recalls. �He didn�t imagine it was a plane crash. Only sick minds could imagine that.� During their brief conversation, Hagay described the heavy smoke, but remained calm. �He wasn�t panicked, but it was like a goodbye. The way he said it was so heavy and so personal. There�s no doubt he had a fear for his survival.� After the towers collapsed, Sigal and several friends and relatives went from Tenafly, N.J., to Manhattan, desperately searching hospitals for Hagay. His friend, Ezra, kept the mood upbeat, insisting that if there were a way out in time, Hagay would have found it. But Sigal knew she had spoken to her husband for the last time. On Sept. 16, his body was found intact, in the rubble. Hagay and Sigal met during their army service and married in June 1993. They had two children, six and four. �They loved him,� says Sigal of the children. �We feel his loss on a daily basis. He gave them baths and put them to sleep. He was very involved. But we have functioned from one moment to the next, because we got into this emergency mode.� Does she view it as ironic that Hagay left terror-plagued Israel, only to fall victim to terrorism in America? �It�s not relevant in my eyes,� she answers. �Our residence was here. Maybe if we were visitors, it would be relevant.� With the help of a Red Cross volunteer, who had lost her own husband at about the same point in life, Sigal says that she is coming to terms with her grief. But her recent 33rd birthday was difficult. �Hagay was a year and half older than me,� she says. �He would have been 35 on Oct. 25. But he�s not getting older anymore. I�m closing the gap.� Arlene Fried, 49, Roslyn, L.I. A Family Of Survivors When Nicholas Joseph arrived in America after enduring the horrors of the Nazi camps, he imagined a safe haven for his children. Yet some half a century later, he found himself at a memorial service at Temple Beth Sholom in Roslyn, L.I., reflecting on the loss of his daughter, Arlene, in an act of horrific violence. �He spoke about how, after everything he had been through, he had come to America � and look what happens here,� recalls Arlene�s husband, Kenneth Fried. Arlene, a lawyer for Cantor Fitzgerald, left her home in Roslyn Heights about 7:30 a.m. on Sept. 11, arriving at work shortly before the first plane struck. �She was terrific, very smart, a wonderful mother,� says Kenneth, who met Arlene during winter vacation in Puerto Rico when he was 15 and she was 17. �Our mothers introduced us. Our families knew each other.� During nearly 29 years of marriage, the Frieds had three daughters: Dana, 25, now a dental student; Allison, 22, a legal buttistant; and Emily, 17, a senior in high school. �She had a very full life,� says Kenneth. �While our youngest daughter was in first grade, she was in Columbia Law School.� The daughter of Romanian and Hungarian Holocaust survivors � her mother was in Auschwitz � Arlene was active in groups and events to commemorate the Shoah. Now her family is memorializing Arlene through a special fund administered by Lawyers for Children, an advocacy group in Manhattan. Jason Sekzer, 31, Forest Hills, Queens A �Humble� Achiever Will Sekzer considered Jason the perfect son. �Many fathers will say that � but I know I can say those words without any fear of exaggeration,� says Sekzer. Jason was a vice-president at Cantor Fitzgerald, having risen to that position in just four years from entry-level clerk. Earlier in his life, he was a camper at Camp Suslove in New Jersey who rose through the staff to a post on the board of directors. �He was handsome, smart, humble and polite,� says Will Sekzer, an fraternal organization of Jewish cops. Jason�s best traits were his resistance to peer pressure, and his humility. When promoted at Cantor in May 2000, he asked his father to conceal the news. �They had jumped him up three levels,� recalls Will, who could barely contain his excitement. The reason for the subterfuge? His younger brother, Marc, was graduating from college, and Jason didn�t want to steal his thunder. Jason married Natasha Makshanov eight months before Sept. 11. On Sept. 10, the photographer called to say their album of wedding photos was ready. It�s been a particularly hard year for the Sekzers, who live in Sunnyside, Queens. Four days after he died, Jason�s mother, Evelyn, was diagnosed with breast cancer. She is now recovering. Months after rescue efforts at Ground Zero ended, Will and Evelyn dedicated a monument in Jason�s memory at the Shomrim cemetery plot in Plainview, L.I. Days later, a bone fragment from Jason�s leg was identified through DNA analysis. It will be buried after medical examiners complete the identification of all remains. �I don�t want to put my wife through this more than once,� says Will. How does a family endure such a devastating year? �What�s the foot in front of the other, and you proceed.� Camp Suslove has established a scholarship fund in Jason�s memory for the children of 9-11 victims. Marc Zeplin, 33, Purchase, N.Y. �It�s Like A Void� A few weeks ago, Leonard Zeplin rode his bicycle across town from his home on the Upper East Side, then down to Ground Zero, where he watched as workers prepared for the upcoming anniversary. It was his sixth visit to the site where he lost his son. But the pain is still fresh. The gaping hole in the ground is like the one in his life. �It�s like a void,� says Zeplin, who is general studies principal at Yeshivah of Flatbush Elementary School in Brooklyn. �You look around and think about the good times and wonder, why the hell did it happen to him?� The Zeplins had recently purchased a family plot at Beth David cemetery in Elmont, L.I., never suspecting the first headstone would be for Marc, 33. Everything in his life was new: from his two young sons, Ryan and Ethan, to his home in Westchester, completed just weeks before he died, and his success as an equities trader at Cantor Fitzgerald. Marc completed a trade about 8:40 on the morning of Sept. 11, minutes before Flight 11 destroyed Cantor Fitzgerald�s World Trade Center operations. It was his last known communication. One year later, the Zeplins are haunted by the lack of closure. �It�s like he disappeared out of thin air,� says Marc�s father. The family has submitted DNA samples twice, but no remains have matched. Everywhere, there is the presence of Marc�s absence, from unused Rangers season tickets to be given to friends, to the extensive stereo system and basketball court at his custom-built home. �These are all tokens of the things he stood for,� says Leonard. �You keep thinking he�s still around.� Leonard and his wife, Leona, have established a foundation in Marc�s name to benefit children affected by 9-11. They also organized a recent fund-raiser at the Q Club near Chelsea. The Yeshivah of Flatbush community raised over $50,000 to help Marc�s own sons, now 4 and 21 months. The Zeplins last saw their son on Labor Day 2001 � eight days before the catastrophe � on a day that included swimming at Marc�s country club and a barbecue. �It was the best time ever,� recalls Leonard. �My son never gave me one single bit of trouble. He was loving and respectful and caring.� Alona Abraham, 30, Ashdod, Israel From plantay to Boston When Alona Abraham called her kid brother, Noam, from Boston, she asked what souvenir she could bring home to Israel for him. �I told her, �Have a good flight and be careful,� � recalls Noam, 25, who spoke to his sister via cell phone from the air base where he is a career aeronautic mechanic. �I told her I don�t want any presents, just that you come back safely.� Her parents, Peres and Miriam, had a different request: that she return to Israel with a boyfriend. None of their wishes would come true. Alona, 30, whose family had emigrated from plantay, India, to Israel, was enjoying a three-week vacation in America when she boarded United Airlines Flight 175 from Boston to Los Angeles. When news of the attack on America reached Israel, Miriam Abraham was initially comforted by the belief that her daughter was nowhere near New York or Washington. It was only when her cousin, Danny Raymond, was left waiting at the gate at Los Angeles International airport that the horrible pieces began to come together. Alona was to have spent Rosh HaShanah with her cousin, then return to Israel the following week for Yom Kippur, which was also her younger sister Efrat�s birthday. Alona, an engineer with the American firm Applied Materials in Rechovot, held a degree in business management. She had traveled to France, Holland and Africa. She decided on an American trip after a friend declined to go with her to Australia. She kept up with American culture through Hebrew magazines, and was looking forward to her first foray to the U.S. �She loved Boston,� where she visited a friend, Dror Veisman, from college, says Noam. �She said if she didn�t like her job so much she would quit and stay in Boston.� Miriam last spoke with her daughter on Sept. 10. �She was my right hand,� says Miriam. �She was full of chachma wisdom. She was always smiling, very helpful, very generous. I didn�t do anything without asking her, because I am from the former generation �.� At a time when Israel was plagued with terrorism, Miriam viewed the trip to America as �the least suspicious thing to do. I was very calm. It did not occur to me that such a thing could happen.� From the time the news broke in Israel until the early hours of the next morning, the Abrahams were plagued with unconfirmed fears about their daughter�s fate, glued to CNN and the Internet for details. Then came the call from United. Alona�s name was on the list for Flight 175, the plane had crashed. No survivors. The Abrahams spent last Rosh HaShanah in New York, where Rabbi Arthur Schneier of the Park East Synagogue found hosts for them as they awaited news of the recovery efforts. They attended the memorial service at Yankee Stadium. Without a body for a ceremony, though, closure was elusive. Israel�s chief rabbi advised them to sit shiva. Still, disbelief nags at the family, who will mark the anniversary at the Israel Museum in Jerusalem with other families of lost Israelis. Maybe Alona hadn�t boarded the plane� But Miriam knows that if she were alive, �She would have found a phone immediately to tell me, �Mother, I am safe.� Since there was no call in one year, that means she is not to be found.� Marina Gertsberg, 25, Midwood, Brooklyn �A Product Of Sacrifice� When Roman and Anna Gertsberg came here from Ukraine 21 years ago, they sacrificed to get the best education for their only daughter, Marina � both Jewish and secular. So for the first six years Marina traveled by bus from their home in Howard Beach, Queens, to Beer Hagolah yeshiva in Starrett City, Brooklyn. Later, she took a car service into Brooklyn, then a bus in order to attend the Mark Twain School for the Gifted and Talented, an elite public junior high school in Coney Island. Continuing her commuter education, she enrolled in Stuyvesant High School as its new campus opened in the shadow of the World Trade Center. Living in New York since she was 4, Marina spoke English as her primary language, and she was a patriot who proudly wore a sweatshirt bearing the stars and stripes during a summer European tour. �She was definitely an American and a New Yorker who loved the city and the country,� said Anna, a bookkeeper, of her daughter. But Marina was also proud of her heritage, spoke fluent Russian and had a working knowledge of Hebrew. �She believed in God � more than I do,� says Anna. After graduating the State University of New York at Binghamton with an accounting degree, she took a job at Morgan Stanley and found an apartment in Midwood, Brooklyn, close to her friends. She discussed spending a semester in Israel, but her parents deemed the experience too dangerous. Marina joined Cantor Fitzgerald as an buttistant manager because the firm offered her more flexible hours to pursue a master�s in business at Baruch College. Anna usually spoke to her daughter twice a day, and Sept. 10 was no exception. The conversation was late in the evening, when Marina had returned from night clbuttes. There was no hint that the call would end with their last goodbye. �She was a beautiful person, not only outside but inside,� says Anna. �She had a big heart.� With no gravesite to visit, the Gertsbergs will memorialize their daughter with a plaque at their synagogue, the Rockwood Park Jewish Center, and with a living monument in the form of a scholarship fund at Binghamton. Each year, Anna will pick the recipient from a list supplied by the college. �I want someone with Marina�s background,� she says � young, immigrant and Jewish. In short, someone to continue sacrificing for. Steven Jacobson, 53, Lower East Side, Manhattan Transmitting Friendship Steve Jacobson was Jewish. Vic Arnone is Catholic. But Jacobson was prone to declaring that the two were �mishpocha.� They became best friends in 1978 over the airwaves, via HAM radio. In a brief conversation, they learned that Jacobson was four flights down from Arnone in the Empire State Building, where they were transmitter engineers for competing TV stations. A few minutes later, Jacobson �popped up� for a visit. Before long both men were working for WPIX-Channel 11, serving long shifts at the top of the world - the 110th floor of the World Trade Center. Jacobson attended communion for Arnone�s kids; Arnone was at the bat mitzvahs of Jacobson�s daughters, Miriam and Rachel. The friends were on duty during the first attack on the World Trade Center in 1993. Arnone was getting lunch when the blast erupted, but Jacobson stayed on the job despite heavy smoke conditions, helping police while working to keep the station on the air. WPIX boasts on its website that in 175,000 hours, less than two hours of cumulative air time was lost while Jacobson was on the job. When the station switched to high-definition television, requiring long overnight shifts, Jacobson would leave work at 7 a.m. and go straight to services at the Town and Village Synagogue on the Lower East Side, where he lived. A devoted congregant, he often led services, and volunteered to install a new sound system at the Conservative temple. �Going to temple was an important part of his life,� said his wife of almost 30 years, Deborah. �When things used to bother him, he would say �This is my therapy.� � Most of his work time was solitary, and Jacobson was alone on Sept. 11 when the planes hit. He tried to reach Deborah, but she had left for work. Arnone, who had lunched with Jacobson six days earlier at a bagel shop, was on the phone with his friend when the line went dead. His last words: �Send help.� His body was recovered in December. Now back at the Empire State Building, Arnone and his fellow engineers have put Jacobson�s picture on the cover of their equipment manual so -when they feel the need-they can grab it and envision him smiling from an even higher vantage point than his former 110th floor perch. Another tribute: Camp Ramah has dedicated a HAM radio set with his call letters, M2SJ, to continue building �mishpochah� over the airwaves. a.. The Mitzvah To Remember b.. New Unity, New Vulnerability The fallout from 9-11 and the Jewish community. c.. Revival At Ground Zero Jewish insbreastutions near the World Trade Center, damaged and dislocated last year, struggle to return to normal. d.. Psalms For A Grieving City For the man who coordinated the months-long effort to watch over the dead, a measure of consolation. e.. Watching and Listening to Sorrow The human need to memorialize f.. Willow Weep For Me g.. A Lesson in Good and Evil For local Jewish schools, 9-11 provided a chance to teach children to confront most basic issues. h.. POEM Saddest Day of My Life i.. Changes of Heart For Israelis and Americans, a shared experience as victims of terrorism evokes different emotions. j.. An Eternal Conversation In designing a memorial for the victims of 9-11, Americans should look to an ancient Jewish tradition. k.. In Their Own Words: Jonathan PittinskyIn l.. Memories Of 9-11 m.. In Their Own Words: Rabbi Andrew Bachman n.. In Their Own Words: Naamah Paley o.. In their own words: Rabbi Yehoshua Eliovson p.. In their own words: Lyzbeth Glick q.. In their own words: Charles D. r.. In their own words: Shmuel Dovid Levinson s.. In their own words: Rabbi Doniel Kramer t.. In their own words: Laura Florman u.. In their own words: Heshey Jacob v.. In their own words: Rabbi Craig Miller w.. In their own words: Yvette Maldonado hey TOLLER CRANSTONNo wonder all the coyotes near our ranch have been howling all night. -- Steve ����`����,��,����`���� Steve Chaney Remove "NRismykicktoy" to get my real email address "it must... x.. In their own words: Dina Leader y.. In their own words: Jeff Kesten z.. In their own words: Jennifer Kouzi aa.. In their own words: Joshua Raskin ab.. In their own words: Rita Lasar ac.. In their own words: Mordecai Dzikansky ad.. In their own words: Shiya Ribowsky ae.. In their own words: Dr. Pesach Ledereich af.. In their own words: Sharon Pinsker ag.. In their own words: Yehuda Haim ah.. In their own words: Stewart Ain ai.. In their own words: Carolyn Strauss aj.. In their own words: Reva Price ak.. In their own words: Michoel Ronn al.. In their own words: Ed Zughaft am.. In their own words: Janice Schreier Hart an.. In their own source"
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