As the eulogies and features of his life played endlessly this week, there is one story that rises above all others in its simple wisdom, like a chassidic proverb.
As the eulogies and features of his life played endlessly this week, there is one story that rises above all others in its simple wisdom, like a chassidic proverb. What do we do as we witness the greatest generation before us disappearing, like stars fading to black in the night sky? America seems to be hued in a dimming lamplight of a darkened city as our luminaries fade to black, one light at a time. Colin Powell (z”l) was a trailblazer; the first in so many, as Diversity, Equity and Inclusivity (DEI) was irrelevant in his lifetime – he was a man of color who had to work harder than others in order to get ahead. As the eulogies and features of his life played endlessly this week, there is one story that rises above all others in its simple wisdom, like a chassidic proverb. Growing up in the South Bronx, Powell worked for a Jewish family in a toy store during his breaks from school. His lexicon of Yiddishisms grew there, phrases he was known to use with his colleagues, both for valor and for derision, as the best of Yiddish phrases capture both. Eight years ago, Powell shared this moment with his alma mater on CUNY Television: “I was working at a toy store for a Jewish family and a man named Jay Sickser.
