Remember Ed LeVine

[Marc LeVine]

ERWIN "ED" LeVINE, 83, formerly of Manalapan
Posted by the Asbury Park Press on 01/20/07

ERWIN "ED" LeVINE, 83, of MANCHESTER, died Thursday, Jan. 18, at Community Medical Center, Toms River. He was born in Bronx, N.Y., and lived in Manalapan for 52 years before moving to Manchester last year. Ed LeVine was a floor covering salesman for Bambergers in Menlo Park Mall for over 30 years before retiring in 1986. He then worked part-time for Frequency Engineering Laboratories, Farmingdale, as a security guard for another 10 years. And, for more than 50 years, Mr. LeVine was known as the "Rug Man in the Yellow Building" at Englishtown Auction Sales, selling imported oriental rugs to local patrons. He was a Navy veteran of World War II and a member of the Jewish War Veterans, Manalapan-Marlboro Post 972.

He is survived by his wife, Sally; a son and daughter-in-law, Councilman Marc and Betsy LeVine of Freehold; a daughter and son-in-law, Desly and Alexander Getty of Manchester; a brother, Dr. Thomas Baer; and three grandchildren, Bryan Gamza, and Steven and Sean LeVine.

Chapel services will be held at 9:30 a.m. Sunday at Bloomfield-Cooper Jewish Chapels, Route 527 North, Manalapan. Shiva will be observed at the Getty residence, the Renaissance, in Manchester, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. Donations to the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson's Research, Grand Central Station, P.O. Box 4777, New York, NY 10163, would be appreciated.

[admin]

It is very appropriate that the above appear in the history section of our town, considering that Erwin LeVine gave our town his son and grandson, who are both positive and active people in our town.

Marc, do you have any memories of your father that would be good to share, here in the history section? I am reminded of what you said a Shiva is, a celebration of life. That is a healthy attitude.

[Marc LeVine]

My parents, being in the floor covering line in the Freehold Area for 50+ years carpeted the homes and offices of many FB residents and professionals including Attorney Alex Lefchuk, Pat Gike (King Cadillac), Marie Chapman, etc. They were active in the Freehold Jewish Center and it's offshoot programs (e.g Hadassah, ORT, etc.) I was a Bar Mitvah from there. Freehold Borough is my town, because Freehold Borough was their town.

Here is the Eulogy I gave for dad last Sunday:

It is very appropriate that this long episode of my father’s struggle to recover from his deadly fall take in the recently completed holiday of Hanukkah. For centuries, we have celebrated the story of how one day’s supply of oil burned for 8 days, in a Syrian temple. Today, we celebrate how one rather frail old man’s relentless will kept him alive for more than two months, despite the severity of his injury and its devastating complications.

Dad fought a long battle that even amazed his Doctors. And, he won that courageous battle on Thursday morning.

Dad fell at home and his injury began a heroic three month battle of survival. A battle like none many of us have ever seen for someone his advanced age and frail condition.

On November 5th, God first called Ed LeVine home. But, Dad defiantly said, “No, not yet. I am not ready to come with you. I need to hear the results of my son’s Freehold Borough Council election.” I won the election and we told him. He heard us and acknowledged it by raising his hand.

Twice after two major brain surgeries God called dad home again. But, Dad defiantly said “No, not yet. I am not ready to come with you. I need to hear of my grandson Bryan’s upcoming wedding engagement before I go.” Bryan and Jolene got engaged and we told him. And he heard us and acknowledged it by raising his hand.

God returned and, again, asked Dad to come along after he developed Pneumonia and then a Staph infection. Dad defiantly said “No, not yet. I am not ready to come with you. I need to hear of my grandson Steven’s first job in public relations. Steven graduated college last May.” Steven got the job and started work and we told Dad. And he heard us and acknowledged it by raiding his hand.

Then, dad’s lung collapsed, septicemia set in and bedsores developed. The Doctors gave up on Dad and began his anticipated and short death watch. But, Dad rallied and his medical treatments were restarted. God was calling him home again and his Doctors were willing to send him there as they are with every other sick and bedridden people his age, but Dad defiantly said “No, not yet. I am not ready to come with you. I need to hear that my other grandson, Sean, has made it back safely from his Texas vacation. And, I also want to hear about Marc’s swearing in on the council.” Well…Sean got home fine and the swearing in went well. We told him, but this time we can only assume that he heard us through all of the morphine and in his struggle gasping for air. He was to die that night, but he rallied once more and lived on for nearly another two weeks.

The doctors came to us once more and predicted dad’s death in hours. God called for him again when I, myself, took ill - last week - and went into the hospital. Dad told God, once again, that he wasn’t ready to go with him until he knew I was going to be ok. On Sunday, I was released from the hospital and saw Dad on Wednesday afternoon. He was obviously failing my arrival. Swollen and filled with fluid. His breathing labored, he opened his eyes, saw that I was ok and at that moment must have said to God – now, I am ready to come with you.

When dad finally left us, he won his battle. He got his lasting peace, but he wouldn’t go until he was up to date on all of the wonderful things happening around him. He put us all at ease, because he left no unfinished business. There is nothing that we can point to and say that we only wish he knew before he died. When he left us, Dad knew everything. He was completely up to date. We need to thank God for his patience in accommodating Dad’s wishes and my family’s needs.

You may wonder. What kind of man and father was Ed LeVine? He was a good man A simple man. A good father and grandfather. He was an honest and hard working individual with a good sense of humor – even if the timing of his humor was sometimes slightly off. And, that’s what may have been most memorable about him. Dad was often funny, even when he wasn’t trying to be. As he aged, he became more of a character to us all of us, especially his grandchildren, who often liked to lovingly imitate him. The things Dad did and said were just…well…funny!

There was the time dad complimented an older woman on her lovely son, who actually turned out to be her much more youthful looking husband! Another fun memory is that in the middle of my mother’s closing of an oriental rug sale, with an Englishtown Auction customer, dad stopped a passerby, who was walking her two dogs and asked “excuse me mam, aren’t those Weimareiners?” Mom almost killed him on the spot. “Eddy is that important in the middle of trying to make a sale?” she asked. Dad just shrugged his shoulders.

He once stopped a Latino woman at the market and asked her, “excuse me mam, is that Castilian Spanish you are speaking? Of course, my mother would go ballistic when he did this. But, episodes like this earned dad his memorable nickname, the “King of Small Talk. Dad was the consummate bad talk show host. He loved to chit chat with strangers about stuff that probably only mattered to him. And, it was funny to watch.

Mom used to also kid him about his salesmanship. He’d work very hard to try and close a carpet deal. He was a pretty good salesman, because he was very honest. Often, he came so close to sealing the deal… and then it happened. Just a couple of extra, misplaced words. Maybe, two or three words were enough to kill the sale. Perhaps, it was a lady deciding between two oriental rugs in stock. Having a hard time deciding, but giving the impression it would be a choice from among the two rugs, a commitment was nearing. “Sally, aren’t we going into the city this week to pick up more oriental rugs this week? Dad would ask? My mother’s eyes would bulge as she turned bright red. Well, the customer then thought, why not wait to see what else he brings back next week? The woman went home and by the next week, probably found something she liked better in another store.

Dad also loved to shop for a bargain. Problem was – his opinion of a bargain was probably a little different than most of us. He had a very set criterion for what constituted a bargain. Value or need had nothing to do with this. Whatever it was, it couldn’t cost more than $10 and it had to be something worth hundreds more --- 10 - 20 years ago. No, we are not talking antiques. We’re talking Electronics!

Remember those Radio Shacks TRS-80 monochrome PC’s circa 1980? Well, Dad bought one of those. Only, he bought it in 1995 for $10 bucks!!!

He bought Betsy and me a living room lamp and insisted that we plug it in to see if it worked. We did plug it in. It worked so well that I was blown half way across the room. It had a short in it. What would you expect for $2.40 cents? Dad bought and never used more transistor radios, record players, wristhingyches and Polaroid cameras than Marconi, Thomas Edison and Charles Kodak. When he bought these things for his grandchildren there was always a few chuckles. Deliberately they would bait him. Pop pop? Is the camera 35 mm or 126 cartridge? Pop Pop how large a disc drive does the PC have? Dad didn’t know the details. After all it was a computer and it was dirt cheap. Who knows how much memory it had or what operating system it used? All small details to him.

Dad also loved to eat. Especially, in his later years. He’d just about get up from one meal; have two snacks; and sit down to another meal topped off by an ice cream sundae! He’d eat whatever was on his plate. Just place it in front of him and stand back. As a child I remember him mashing his meat, vegetables and potatoes together and pouring catsup all over it. He called this concoction “hash.” We called it barf!

Then there was the time we went up to the Amish Country and had dinner at an Amish buffet. Ummm…Marc get me some more of that delicious corn chowder from up there, will ya. Corn Chowder? I asked? What Corn Chowder? There was no corn chowder on the food bar, that I saw. Before we could stop him, Dad managed to eat a whole bowl of Amish Hot Bacon Dressing! Imagine the fat content of that! And, he still made it to 83.

Finally, a year ago Thanksgiving. That one to be his last Thanksgiving at the table with the family, we had dinner at Jack Baker’s Lobster Shanty in Pt. Pleasant. Dad loved buffets and it was the cure for his Parkinson’s disease. It would be a bad day for him and the whole day he couldn’t move his feet – until you pointed him in the direction of a buffet or a garage sale. Then, clear the way and watch him run. Well, that night he returned from the buffet with the largest turkey leg ever sprung from a bird. He looked like a caveman running towards us with a huge club. But, as always, he downed that sucker in short order and went off looking for another plate of food.

Even in illness, Dad was funny. He had many nagging complications that required emergency visits to the hospital. He loved going to the hospital, especially by ambulance. He loved the hospital food and the pretty nurses. One night, Betsy and I rushed him over to the Raritan Bay Medical Center emergency room and had to wait for hours to be seen by a doctor. We took him by car this time. How we laughed when we took him there in his robe. He looked like Vinnie “The Chin” Gigante! Well, here is this man writhing in Bladder pain the whole night, now out of pain after treatment. It was 3 am; we were exhausted and ready to go home. “Excuse me nurse, anyway I can get a hot cup of coffee, he asked?” What about getting the hell out of there didn’t my father not understand? Dad was funny, even when he wasn’t trying to be.

Dad was a good man. He worked very hard and it was always about family. He always put himself second to all of us. If it was Hanukkah, we got more toys than anyone we knew. When mom wanted us to have private educations, Dad said fine and paid for The Ranney School and Syracuse University for me and Monmouth College for Desly. These places weren’t cheap and he didn’t make a lot of money, but he paid. Dad helped us buy our first cars and schlepped us anywhere we were going to or coming from at all hours of the night. He never complained if it was for us kids.

Inside of himself, he was a little hard to read. Rarely emotional and rather quiet about his inner feelings and thoughts. This was a side of himself, he remained very private his entire life. He never seemed to worry about anything and his blood pressure was two digits over two digits. It was only two years ago, when we finally got a glimpse of dad’s emotions. I was headed into cancer surgery and Betsy was following me from behind. A family friend, Rhoda Yucht was with us. She tapped Betsy on her shoulder and said, “Look at your father-in-law over there in the corner.” Betsy turned and saw my dad crying. I was for his son. This was the most memorable thing about my dad that I never got to see, first hand. Just being told this was enough. Dad had a bigger heart than any of us knew; he just preferred to show it through his actions rather than through his obvious emotions.

Today, we cry for dad, who now belongs to the ages. He was old, but he didn’t want to die. But, today,we also laugh with him about the fun times he provided us all and the memories that will live in our hearts forever.

One last time I must utter the loving words of my mother in this appropriate setting. “Eddy, sit us. Open your eyes. This I how you are going to be with a whole room of people who came to see you? Next time, stay home and sleep.” Dad, this time it’s ok not to listen to mom. This time everyone in this room expects you to rest in peace. You’ve worked hard your whole life. You did whatever was expected of you. You’ve earned the right to rest in peace. Dad, we love you. I love you…and we will meet again in heaven, someday.