Can You Hear Me? A tribute to my study partner.

For 21 years, Sunday at 11:30 AM started with a robust “Goood Morning! What’s happening in Queens?” I would respond, “What’s happening in Lakewood?” Our weekly Torah study by phone was arranged by an organization called Partners in Torah. The only problem came after Curtis recently moved, when the cell signal in his new home was weak. There would often be a “Can you hear me?” exchange while he moved to another part of his house.

I have a few friends in Lakewood, and Curtis made it a second hometown for me. Technically he lived in Toms River and when we first started learning Torah on the phone there were no observant Jews in his immediate neighborhood. That changed over time, and Curtis kept me up to date on the new Toms River shuls and Lakewood restaurant and shopping happenings.

A few years ago, I was looking for a Shabbos lunch invitation from a neighbor for Curtis, since his close observant friend, Avi, lived over a mile away. I networked my way to Yaakov through contacts I had made at Beyond BT, the website I run for Jews who became observant later in life. He befriended Curtis and invited him for Shabbos lunch.

Without that connection, I would not have received the shocking text message telling me that Curtis had died. The funeral was last Tuesday. His only sibling, Jeff, organized the graveside service. Those who came included his fellow used-car dealers, neighborhood friends, and the founder and principal of a prominent Lakewood girls’ high school. The principal had sought Curtis out because he wanted a squeaky-clean, honest used-car dealer. I was one of several people who spoke at the graveside, along with the rabbi leading the service, the principal, and Avi.

The principal spoke about his honesty and Avi about how he embraced Torah values. My eulogy included how Curtis spoke of the greatness of Torah, and afterward people told me that my descriptions sounded like things Curtis would say. He loved life and was always up for a good kiddush or a great Lakewood Purim Party. Every Purim he would send me pictures from those parties. He loved people and spoke highly of everyone with whom he associated, especially Jeff and Avi, who were always reaching out to him.

Curtis also had a deep love for the Jewish people. He was constantly telling me stories of his advocacy, both online in chat spaces and in real life. One time, people were complaining about the influx of observant Jews, and Curtis pointed out that the new neighbors were solid citizens and would increase their property values to boot.

Above all, Curtis’s love of Torah was his crowning attribute. If we couldn’t learn on Sunday, we would find another day that week. Over the years we learned Talmud, Jewish philosophy, character development, and the Five Books of Moses, which were by far his favorite. Curtis would prepare with an English translation filled with explanatory notes. We would then discuss any verses that were unclear or striking.

The Torah is divided into 54 portions, and Curtis would often say, “That was a great portion!” He was amazed at the breadth of topics that the Torah covered. One of his favorites was the commandment to set aside an area outside the camps, and to carry a shovel to dig a hole and cover their waste. When we got to that commandment, he would inevitably say, “The Torah covers everything.” As it happened, we learned that portion in our last session together.

There is a commandment to love G-d. The Sifrei, an early rabbinic commentary on the Torah, asks how we can achieve that love. The answer is that through learning Torah, we come to recognize G-d and through that recognition come to love Him. Curtis achieved this. He often spoke about how G-d was with him. This is his legacy, and if we follow his example of study, recognition, and love we will elevate both our souls and his.

This Sunday at 11:30, the phone did not ring. So I looked heavenward and said, “Curtis, can you hear me?” I will always love you, Curtis!