Myles - by Don Silverstein

I am Don Silverstein, Myles’ father-in-law, and by default Marcie’s father

When Marcie graduated from Emory, she stayed in Atlanta and went to work for Deloitte, a big 8 accounting firm.  About two years into the job, Deloitte merged with Touche, to become Deloitte & Touche.  Marcie was excited about the merger, because she had fun going out for drinks with “a great bunch of guys that worked for Touche” — well, all but one of the guys were great, he was a jerk.  Guess who that one was?

Marcie, what were you thinking?

But, not too much later, “great bunch of guys” shrunk down to Myles and Stuart, who lived together at the time.  Things slowly evolved again, this time to Myles and Marcie — big time.  First, they bought a house together, and then they got married — in that order.

Over 20 years ago, I accepted “early retirement” from my job, which is another way of saying that I was suddenly unemployed.  A couple of months later, we got a call from Myles on a Saturday night , to let us know that he was about to propose to Marcie — that night.  My response to Myles was “I’ve never had someone ask me this question.”  Obviously, Marcie was more prepared for her question than I was for mine!  Even if I had trouble answering the question, it was a big step in my seeing how great a person Myles was, and has continued to be for the 20-some years that I’ve been lucky enough to be his relative.

After my head cleared, my thoughts became, “for the first time in my adult life, I’m unemployed, and my daughter says she is getting married in a year.”  As the kids would text or post on Facebook today — OMG.

What followed, as we all know, was a wonderful marriage for over 20 years, when many marriages don’t last for two, and three fantastic kids.  As Myles would frequently point out, “That does not mean that I have many more kids and only three are fantastic — there are only three.”

Marcie, it’s really fortunate that you overlooked whatever initially excluded Myles from the “great bunch of guys”, and all of the amazing experiences that came as a result.

Adam, Ali, and Josh, you are all fantastic, and if you’re ever not sure, you can always ask me, Mimi, or Pop Pop.  And we all know that one of the reasons you’re all so fantastic is the fantastic father, and fantastic person, who raised you.

Myles - by Dana Meaney-Delman

MYLES TO THE RESCUE
Almost nine years ago, we moved in next door to the Beskind family. They were, in fact, a major selling point in our decision to buy the house, but we never imagined how truly intertwined our lives would be. I am certain that Myles and Marcie may have had some reservations about the loud, fast talking New Yorkers with their entourage of animals. 

I could relay many of Myles’s wonderful and gracious acts of neighborly kindness over the past nine years, but that is not the charge today. We are here to celebrate Myles and to highlight the funny, happy times we’ve shared. Two stories I would like to share: Myles the alarm clock and Myles the cat-rescuer.

MYLES, THE ALARM CLOCK
Myles was ever-willing to help out in any situation, even if it was a major inconvenience to him. A key piece of information about Myles that’s germane to both stories: he is not a huge fan of animals and as I mentioned, the Delmans have quite the menagerie, including a 100 lb, energetic, boisterous, black Labrador retriever, who is a bit overly friendly.

On the day that Myles was to serve as the alarm clock, we had left our 10 year old daughter home asleep with the plan to call her and wake her up. However, despite multiple attempts to call and awaken her, there was no response; Keith and I had started to worry that something could have happened. In a panic, I called Myles, who was a few days post chemotherapy and home resting. When I explained the situation, Myles jumped up and ran to my house, braving the barking, slobbery overly friendly Labrador, and went to Emma’s bedroom. Of course, Emma was just fine, sleeping soundly in her bed, but was completely taken aback to awake to find “Mr. Myles” in her bedroom. Emma reminds me regularly that “Mr. Myles” is NOT her alarm clock and that this was a bad call on my part. But I am sure Myles never gave it another thought…. that’s just a typical day for Myles.

The second story builds on some of the same themes, capturing how truly selfless Myles was. I want to reiterate, Myles was not an animal fan: dogs or cats.

MYLES THE CAT RESCUER
The Delman family, a bit obsessed with animals, owns a very curious and mischievous cat named Cookie -in addition to the aforementioned dog, two bunnies, a horse, and a fish tank full of fish.

One day Cookie, an “exclusively” indoor cat, managed to get into the garage -a not infrequent occurrence as the Beskind children can readily attest to. Without realizing this, one of the children- not sure if this was a Delman or a Beskind- opened the garage door and, while entering the house, accidently let the dog out. Needless to say, the dog spotted the cat and chased him right up into the tree situated between the Beskind and Delman houses. No amount of coaxing would convince Cookie to come down. So, the next logical step became obvious - retrieve the cat from the tree (or call the fire department but I was not sure that they still provide this service).

Here’s where Myles came in. The Beskind’s own a nice, tall ladder …. which Myles brought to the tree and held for me while I ascended into the tree to retrieve my cat. Remember, Myles is not a cat fan. And, just to set the scene, I was in my pajamas and the Beskind and Delman children were all watching this unfold. The cat was not happy about being grabbed by me, and squeezed through the tree branches. Cookie expressed his displeasure, ……which landed partially on me and barely missed Myles, who was of course still faithfully holding the ladder. As I descended the ladder with the cat in tow, I awkwardly thanked Myles, ran into the house, completely embarrassed and truthfully mortified. Myles, always the perfect gentleman, never mentioned this episode again - not sure it changed his mind about cats though.

These stories represent a snapshot of just a few of the wonderful memories our families have shared. We will miss Myles, a wonderful, generous, amazingly kind man, but we look forward to sharing many, many more wonderful memories with Marcie, Adam, Josh and Ali. We consider them part of our family and fully expect that the revolving doors between our houses will always remain open, even if the animals escape once in a while. I think that is how Myles would have wanted it.

We love you.

Addendum:
After I spoke at Myles’ funeral, a story was shared with me that is yet another example of “Myles to the Rescue” and so I have included it here. These three stories depict how Myles lived his life, a true and noble man, an unsung hero.

As an avid runner, Myles often spent time jogging through the neighborhood. On one of his runs several years ago, he came upon the following scene:
A 3 year old girl seated in a wagon, was careening down a hill towards a major intersection. The mother, face bloodied from a recent fall, was chasing the escaped wagon, screaming “HELP, HELP, HELP”.

Without a second thought, Myles, selflessly ran into the busy street blocking the path of the wagon, serving as a human barrier to protect the child from harm. Safe and sound, the child was returned to the injured mother, who expressed her extreme gratitude to Myles, but never thought to ask his name.

Anonymously, Myles returned home to tend to his own leg, bloodied from the impact of the wagon. He never boasted about his good deed; that was never Myles’ style. This was just an average day in the life a Myles- go on a run, save a kid, no big deal. The scar left behind on Myles’ leg was the only evidence, a badge of honor for his heroism.

Myles was a truly amazing man who touched the lives of many, many people. I am certain there are many more stories, not yet captured, that may never be uncovered. But, these stories alone, demonstrate how he lived his life, with effortless kindness, dignity, and humor. He is a true inspiration to us all.

Rest in peace Myles, and please know that we will continue to tell these stories and keep you alive in our hearts.

Love,

Dana, Keith, Samantha and Emma

Myles - by David Sanders

To the Friends of Myles Beskind. Below is the text of my tribute to him.

***********************
This morning I am have to say something that I've never said. Something I hope I won't ever have to say again. Go Dogs!

Marcie has asked that this memorial be uplifting and funny. I'd like to apologize right now for not entirely meeting this requirement.

I am not very good at this, speaking in front of such a huge crowd. But I had a friend in High School who was. He loved to speak in front of people. He was a natural leader. He always seemed to strike a perfect balance between maturity and mahem, between serious and fun. I can assure you none of his friends did this as well.

He ran for class vice President in 8th grade and won. Then he ran for president the next year, but lost. It didn’t matter, to me that was brave enough. He competed in Mr. Briarcliff, was the anchor on our fake news show, loved debating and was not only comfortable, but was clever and sneaky. Like the time he was debating, against, the raising of the drinking age. The opposing team pointed out the dangers of teenage drinking and driving. When Myles suggested raising the driving age instead, the other team readily accepted.

If he were here today, he'd be the MC and have the most fun. Obviously he couldn’t be here today, but I can tell you, he was fun, he was funny, he was serious, and, as my grandmother often said, good looking. He easily moved between the cliques that you find in High School, but for some reason, he was very dedicated to his friendship with me, even though I was in the remedial stoner football clique, obviously.

He was a good guy, but not always good. We had a 9th grade geometry teacher, who was a holdover from a previous generation of teachers. I guess from a time when students had respect. He smoked cigarettes and always had a cup of coffee. One quarter we had biology just before Geometry. Myles and I decided it would be funny to put dissected frog parts into his coffee. It seems kind of sick now. What a bad influence you were, Myles.

Myles was a very smart guy, balanced in his verbal and math skills. In 11th grade, I was in his advanced English class. We had an assignment to write an essay on the worst, the deadliest, of the seven deadly sins. Which are, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, Pride

I knew which was the worst sin. We had talked about it in class, Pride! Myles didn’t choose to write about Pride, he chose Sloth. Sloth? My immediate reaction was, that’s stupid! But I learned a few lessons from that, one be different, be creative. The point was the writing and the arguing, not the answer. I also realize today, that maybe Myles really did believe that sloth was the deadliest sin. Maybe that is why he ran marathons and wrote a book in a month. The book not the marathons. I consider this another example of what made him different. He always had a more sophisticated view of the world. He could see further than I could. He could see our situation from the outside. And he was more serious about the future.

I went to hebrew day school from kindergarten through 7th grade. I attended the Hebrew Academy of Atlanta, and some of my classmates are here today. Myles went to public school all the way. In 11th grade, Myles suggested we take a Hebrew test for high school credit. Who thinks of that? So we went down to the old Jewish Community Center. Of course, Myles did the planning and I drove. We took that test and Myles did better on it than I did. I had hebrew half of the school day for 8 years, and he did better on the hebrew test than I did. Honestly, to this day, I still don’t know how that is possible.

Who remembers the movie Animal House. The Delta Chi fraternity of John Belushi had something in common with our Bnai Brith Youth Group chapter, the Sons of Israel. In our youth group, (Anyone here from SOI?) he was the smooth leader, Eric "Otter" Stratton, to a bunch of hooligans. At our convention, each chapter President would present their chapter with a preamble. He always had a long and entertaining one. One year, one of our brothers, who I will refer to as our Chief Hooligan, got into a little scuffle with another attendee. From that convention on, Myles would introduce us with, among many other, “SOI, home of fighting Kevin Rubin.” It stuck with me. No, he wasn't the president every year, but that's how I remember it now.

Myles was a very hard worker. He got his first job at Solo Foods, a, now gone, grocery at La Font Plaza. He worked at the pretzel place in the "new" food court at Lenox Mall, right across the gyro place where I worked. Later we worked together at Krogers at Toco, where he was promoted to cashier and I was fired!

Next Topic: A typical High School Friday or Saturday Night.
The only difference really was whether Danny Glusman could be there or not.
Step 1, get beer. This could be done at the Pitch and Putt on Johnson Road, or perhaps the 7-11 on Briarcliff, or maybe A&P, which is now closed.
Step 2, find location. We really only had 2 beer drinking locations, Executive Park, the office complex near Briarcliff and North Druid Hills or, for real excitement, the Cliffs, an office park overlooking I-85 near Clairmont.
If it wasn’t beer, it was Panchos on Buford Highway. There we could get margheritas and chips.
In college, we moved on to Good’Ol Days in Buckhead. I think we went there 6 days a week one summer. When we did become legal to drink, we were embarassed to show our IDs.
In high school, we were pretty much inseparable, and, obviously, we have remained close ever since. I was his best man at his wedding, and we looked awesome in tuxedos. My son Danny and Josh and Ali were born at the same time. It was always important to me that they have a relationship.

I am proud to say, as well, that Myles and Marcie are the god parents to our son Jeremy.

When Myles was diagnosed with cancer again! I suggested we take a trip to a road race with Danny and Luis. By the first race, he had already had cancer for a year and undergone many weeks of chemo, so he beat me in the half marathon by 45 minutes. After his second year with cancer and another year of chemo, he beat me by an hour. My wife, Ghila, made these t-shirts in support of Myles and in commemoration of our trip. During my last brutal 5 miles of that race, I got a lot of "you're doing greats" from other runners. I used up my voice yelling, "no, the guy with cancer is already done!"

I spent a lot of time with Myles these past four weeks. I tried to be with him every day and many days more than once. I know, however, that he would have done the same for me. He always was supportive of me. He always defended me. I know I didn’t always deserve it. I know he could have hung out with more popular people, but apparently he had an eye for hidden talent. For me, the most important thing about Myles, was that he was a very loyal friend."

Myles - by Stuart Brown

Goodbye to Myles – A celebration of Family by Stuart Brown

My beloved Grandmother, Sylvia, may she rest in peace, had a saying that I took to heart. “Don’t get your honey where you get your money.” Luckily Myles didn’t follow this sage advice or he would never have dated Marcie (or a few others). He would have ended up on the 80’s version of J-Date drinking Tab and listening to Vanilla Ice or watching Cosby. And their union gave us their three wonderful children.

Marcie asked for a celebration of Myles’ life with happy and funny memories. So many memories come to mind but I will call out just a few.

As mentioned earlier, Myles had a side to him that could get others in trouble. Like the time Myles and I “borrowed” a four-foot long stuffed Mackerel from a bar. We finally returned it after about four months at Myles’ suggestion, not mine. The time Myles got so annoyed by a grasshopper on his dashboard that he crashed his car into the car in front of him at a stop light. His answering machine messages. As everyone well knows, Myles had an unbelievable sense of humor so I got three years of great message when we lived together. If you don’t know it, he did the best Katherine Hepburn impression of anyone that I know.

And the best Passover of my life was with Myles at Arnold and Sandy’s. I grew up reform and Myles helped teach me more about being Jewish and family which carries in me to this day.
But there are also his traits that I want to celebrate and try to emulate. First, Myles carried himself with more Dignity than I can imagine. I spoke earlier with one of his work colleagues about his grace under pressure. I wish I had that. Second, Myles’ Conviction. People spoke earlier about his running and his push. You have to have unbelievable to Conviction to have fought cancer and come clean twice. To have written a book. Last – Humor. With humor comes humility and we’ve laughed a lot already at a number of stories. Dignity. Conviction. Humor. He has passed these on to Ali, Adam and Josh and they will live in them. Ali, remember when people call you “bossy” you got these great traits from your dad. And, to steal from Sheryl Sandberg, you should just respond that you are exhibiting executive leadership skills.

I read Welcome to the Cancer Club when it came out. Myles disproved the theory that cancer can’t be funny. In the book, Myles talks about being a MOTC. For those of you here that don’t know what a MOTC is, you should go buy the book. Myles would want Marcie to have the royalties. You can read the book in one bathroom visit – after a dose of Imodium apparently.

I haven’t has much contact as I would like in recent years. I was uncomfortable for me to talk about cancer. In the book though Myles wrote about this problem. And also what not to say when someone tells you they have cancer. “Aunt Susie had cancer. That reminds me that I have to make a contribution in her honor.”
“You can beat this. But just in case, can I have dibs on your porn collection.” Sorry to hear that. Can you send me back my Hummel catalog.” Which is apparently a true story of his Aunt Zelda. Marcie, that reminds me that Myles took our collection of glasses stolen from Limerick Junction if I could get those back...

At the back of his book, Myles refers back to his luck in 1991 when Marcie was assigned to work for him at the firm where we all worked. To quote “She hated him. But a few months and more than a few drinks later, things had improved.” I remember Marcie telling me that Myles “is such a jerk.” So much for first impressions. They were married two years later in 1993 – May 30, 1993 to be exact.
And now, 21 years and many memories later, we say goodbye to Myles. But after he helped build a great family which will carry on his Dignity, Convection and Humor.

He was a close fried. We will laugh and we will cry at his memory.
I am glad that neither Myles nor Marcie lived by my grandmother’s rule so we can celebrate the family and love that it created.

Myles - by Dara Simmons

My name is Dara Simmons, although lately people have been calling me… The Gatekeeper.

I remember the first time I saw Myles.

In 1991, I emerged from a morphine induced sleep to find a gorgeous man sitting next to my hospital bed. I thought I was dreaming. But then I heard Marcie’s voice… I quickly figured out that this was the guy, the new boyfriend, Phyllis and I had been hearing about! Marcie and Myles met each other at work and while at first she said he was annoying, really annoying, they quickly began dating. I could see immediately why Marcie wanted to like Myles- after all, he was gorgeous. But it turned out that Myles was more than just a handsome face. In that first meeting, I was also introduced to the intelligence and humor that was Myles Beskind. You have to remember that I had 17 staples in my body, so laughing was not really comfortable for me. And I really wasn’t in the mood to laugh. But although I didn’t want to, Myles made me laugh that first night. Some of what he said that night, I can’t repeat today. It isn’t really appropriate for a place of worship. But one of my favorite lines was something about Marcie really knowing how to show a guy a good time, since she brought him to a hospital on a date!

Over the next 23 years, I found out why Myles let Marcie visit a friend on a date. She was trying to be a good friend and Myles understood that--because he was a good friend. He was there for you no matter what. Lots of our time together was sheer bliss. I am sure Alexis and Vince will agree with me when I say that some of the best meals we’ve had were prepared by Myles. The Bruces and Glassers will tell you that even after running the Peachtree road race, Myles was the best host on the 4th of July. The Pattersons and the Garretts will tell you that Myles and all the Beskinds were loads of fun on beach getaways. But Myles was also a great friend when life wasn’t all about having fun. Earnie and I couldn’t seem to get the nursery ready for our first baby in 1996, so Myles came over and “helped” Earnie paint the room. When I couldn’t drive after my postpartum blood clot in 1998, Myles was one of my chauffeurs and chefs, and when several unpleasantries befell the Simmons-Redwine family in 2006 and 2007, Marcie and Myles cared for Madison and Derrick whenever and however long we were unavailable. I guess he meant what he said in the delivery room the day Madison was born. Myles said he loved our growing family and he would always be there for us.

And it didn’t matter if Myles was feeling well or not. He was committed to living life to the fullest. In the midst of chemo in 2010, we went out for trivia night at a neighborhood restaurant. I will never forget being amazed at the strange things he and Evelyn Walsh knew. Yes, Myles was good looking and intelligent. We came in third mainly because I was the weakest link. And even when he could have played "the cancer card" as a parent volunteer, Myles jogged along. The Paideia dads known as the Chicken Cluckers can attest to the fact that even last October when Myles was doing yet another round of chemo, he cooked for hours before the fall barbeque and remained in good cheer.

Myles’ last blog mentioned that “they” say you can’t take it with you. Another thing that “they” say is that the more things change, the more things stay the same. Things have certainly changed for us now. Myles, who was an amazing man- smart, funny and trustworthy, is gone. But some things remain the same. We loved Myles before Wednesday morning. We still love Myles. We will always love him. I know I will. 

Myles - by Danny Glusman

{I did the Myles scream (you had to be there)}

That is the scream Myles and I would use to get each other to come out and play. 
Before there were cellphones, email and Facebook, we still managed to talk to each other, only we used landline phone (not even a cordless), or simply knock on someone’s door. Myles lived up a steep hill, so instead of walking up to see if he could come out, I would ride my SCHWIN to his house, and scream from the curb. If Myles were home, he would look out the window, then come running outside. The Beskinds moved to Kittredge Court in 1974, 2 years after we did. On a street with what seemed like hundreds of kids, Myles was the only one the same age and in the same grade as me, so we became inseparable after school friends.

Myles and I spent a lot of time together playing various games and going on all kinds of neighborhood adventures. We used to play outside sports such as kickball, football, basketball, frisbee, baseball, bad guy/good guy games, hide and seek, climb trees, neighbors jungle gym, ride our bikes, skateboards, build forts, catch salamanders/frogs and things in the creek, and explore the woods. Back then, by the way, I was known as the fast one. When we weren’t playing outside we would build elaborate hot wheel tracks, play with his Tyco race track (didn’t he have an uncle or cousin that worked for them? He always seemed to have the latest, coolest toy), board games, build all kinds of models (which we would often destroy later that day). Whatever we did, we did it with gusto. I don’t remember ever having to go to our parents asking for something to do, or saying we were bored. We were self-sufficient.

Myles and I were charter members of the Jr. Braves. If you ever watched TBS, the commercials were relentless, so we both joined. I bet Myles still has the t-shirt that we had to wear to the ballpark. Going to the games was so cool because you got to sit right next to chief knock-a-homa. All those years, we still never got to go inside his teepee. One time we were walking up to the stadium with my father, and a kid stole the ticket right out of Myles’ hand and ran with it. My father saw it happen and chased after the kid until he dropped it. I guess we learned the lesson, because I can tell you for a fact that Myles never let anyone steal a ticket to a ball game from his hands ever again.

Myles was a smart, mature kid with a mischievous streak. He was too smart to get into major trouble and mature enough to make parents think he was always innocent. But Myles could instigate other kids to act their worst, then sit back and take it all in. We had a neighbor that was a perfect fit for Myles’ instigative side, we watched him blow things up with firecrackers, and were right next to him when they all blew up in his hand. We were there when he shot rocks with his slingshot through another neighbor’s window, and again when he wiped out on his skateboard going down a hill that was way too steep. I am sure it was Myles’ influence that constantly kept me away from implementing those really bad ideas myself.

Myles was also quite the ladies’ man. I believe it was 6th grade when a cute girl moved to our street. I knew her from school, and Myles knew her from either camp or youth group. She moved in a couple of houses away. I think it was right around the time when I started to realize girls weren’t gross, and I thought it was awesome to have one of the cutest girls in school move in so close. That is until Myles taught me one of life’s important lessons, that GIRLS ARE BAD. Myles let his Paleolithic ancestry show by constantly chasing her and even throwing pinecones at her. Needless to say, that lesson stuck with me for a while, because I don’t think I was able to talk to a girl at my school until 7th grade. While in the hospital a few weeks ago, we started talking about the pinecone episode; Myles said that throwing pinecones was the only way he could express his admiration back then. The good news is we eventually outgrew those methods of communication and all remained good friends. At least I think we did…

Myles and I didn’t go to school together until I transferred to Briarcliff in 10th grade. He was among my welcoming committee, making sure I met and got to know all the “cool people”. So for the rest of High School I hung out with the other nerds, David Sanders, Luis Guzman, Gregg Rosenberg and Myles himself. We were the 5 amigos, AKA the guys that hung out together because they were unable to actually hang out with any girls. When we finally got to be old enough to pass for the legal drinking age, we shared our first beers together. Whether it was Schlitz, Stroh’s or Milwaukee’s finest we always searched for the best craft beers on the market. When we graduated High School, the 5 of us took a well-deserved break from out hectic academic life to spend a week in Ft. Lauderdale. I can’t remember any specific stories about that trip but the overall theme was that we were going to hang out in bars and meet women. Looking back, all I remember is the 5 of us hanging out on the beach alone. No girls, no drinks.

Myles went off to school at UGA and I would soon follow (once I got accepted). We weren’t the fraternity type, mainly because we already had so many friends, but we would usually get together on game days to do what college students do: drink cheap beer and talk football.

Myles took running seriously. Even though I ran the Peachtree Road Race just like him every year, usually by the time I crossed the finish line Myles was already home preparing for his annual July 4th cookout.
Even though we remained tight friends, our lives took us in different directions, but we always stayed in touch and would chat or get together a couple of times each year.

When Myles’ latest bout of cancer reappeared about 3 years ago, he called. The first thing out of my mouth was “are you calling me because you need bald guys to hang out with”? His answer was YES, he needed friends that can stay positive when the times get tough, and in case he lost his hair, it would be nice to have other bald guys to hang out with. He knew he could count on me.

When we ran the 2011 Rock and Roll Marathon together with 4 of the 5 amigos, after going through months of chemotherapy Myles still beat me by more than 30 minutes. The guy was fast, and showing no signs of slowing down. It wasn’t until the 2012 half marathon that I was able to finish at the same time as him, and this was after a year and a half of chemo. It was clear that the running was taking a toll on Myles at that time, but his spirit was as strong as ever.

It has been an honor to spend these last few months helping Myles make this final transition and break on through to the other side. All of his years of marathon training truly paid off. He showed amazing strength all the way to the finish line. It was truly my honor to be by his side in his final moments.
Chazak, chazak , vnethchasek. BE STRONG, BE STRONG and MAY WE BE STRENGTHENED.
Myles showed us all what true strength and courage are. It is my greatest honor to call Myles Beskind my friend.

…….. Adios My Friend

Myles - by Greg Changnon

For Myles:

One thing a teacher always hopes for is a supportive, trusting parent who enthusiastically sends his child into your classroom at the beginning of the year. This past August, when Myles learned that his younger son Josh was placed into my 7th grade classroom—a classroom in which older son Adam spent two previous years —I received an email from Myles that said: “Crap, two more years with you? What did I do to deserve this?”

Another email from Myles just six weeks ago in the middle of December: The day my oldest daughter got into college, Myles sent me a short note saying he heard the news: “Congratulations, Dad. You should be proud…” he wrote.
This is the story of two emails sent from parent to teacher or better yet, from friend to friend. One is a wisecrack, an elbow into the side; the other, a kind gesture from parent to parent, full of camaraderie, respect and support. For me, these two messages taken together capture what made this wonderful man such a treat and a joy. There is no better example of a person who could mix sarcasm and authentic emotion as effortless as Myles. Great humor. Great heart.

In the summer of 2011, as Myles was finishing up his first book WELCOME TO THE CANCER CLUB: SURVIVING ONE LAUGH AT A TIME, he gave my co-teacher Martha Caldwell and me a look at it for our comments and suggestions. I read the book in one sitting, amazed at Myles’s courage in making himself so completely vulnerable on the page. And to think this was his debut effort – he wrote like no first-timer I’ve ever read. It seems to me that he wrote as he lived his life – without fear, without holding anything back and with his whole soul.

Martha and I were honored to be two of Myles’s first readers; that is, until we got the finished paperback copy. Of course, we raced to the acknowledgments to see our names in print and hear Myles sing our praises. But this is what we found: “Thanks to Greg and Martha, Paideia School teachers, who took the time to review this book over the summer and provided great feedback.” So far, so good. But he couldn’t resist adding more: “So, if there’s anything you didn’t like, you can assume one of them made me add that part.”

And there’s that wicked sense of humor again. One of his fans on Amazon wrote: “Who knew cancer could be so entertaining?” High praise, and the truth. We probably all have our favorite moments from the book but here’s mine: A Beskind family tradition developed after Ally read a children’s book in which a family celebrates a daughter’s tonsillectomy by getting a cake inscribed with GOODBYE TONSILS. Myles wrote: “You should have seen the look on the bakery clerk’s face when Marcie asked him to write GOODBYE COLON with red jelly icing on a ¼ sheet cake.” Marcie, the great, beautiful sport that she is, actually pronounced it COLIN and said the family just spelled it weird.

But Myles as a writer was so much more than just funny stories. The easy elegance of his prose and the razor-sharp insights covering every aspect of his heroic fight reveal him to be an amazing intelligent man with a profound and unique way of looking at the world.

Aldous Huxley has said that “Experience is not what happens to you; it’s what you do with what happens.” In all of his writing and especially on his blog, Myles took an extraordinarily difficult experience and did something with it. He spun it into gems of wisdom that have affected and will continue to affect us for the rest of our lives. Look no further than his last post that appeared on Wednesday about what, in the end, he takes with him as he leaves us. This is it, he says, this is what he takes with him: the family he’s raised and the reputation he’s built.

Speaking of the family he raised, I—as well as many of my colleagues here today from the Paideia School—have had the honor, the privilege and the fantastic pleasure of teaching three very special members of that family he raised. Adam, Josh and Ally. Of course, as a teacher, I must say that every child is a gift. But…But what I want to say is that these three Beskinds were true gifts entrusted to us by two wonderful parents. My co-teacher Martha now uses the name BESKIND as a catch-all – as in “He is such a Beskind…” or “Yep, sounds like a BESKIND!”—a word that means a student who is accomplished, devoted, respectful, engaged, brilliant – simply, a teacher’s dream.

So here is the true measure of the man Myles was:

ADAM – a gifted thinker, a star on my academic bowl team, captain of the squad, who taught old-school teachers so much about computers – a common refrain when Adam was in our classroom and technology went down – “Get Adam!” – a performer with a special talent on display as Benedick in our class production of MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING and in high school musicals, especially in THE SECRET GARDEN playing the role of Fakir (Myles had a field day with that name when he told me about Adam’s role).

JOSH – A brave and courageous writer like his father, digging deep into the raw emotions of a story, another academic bowl player –my expert on all sports questions – a compassionate classmate and friend– a devoted student – an observer with keen insights. And a wicked Words With Friends competitor—what other 7th grader repeatedly trounces their English teacher?

And ALI – Authentic, unafraid, a tough athlete with a remarkable sense of a justice –recently challenging a classmate who described someone playing like a girl – “And how does a girl play?” she said. An aspiring journalist who has asked Ben her writing teacher to give her material extra reads, and a 3rd Beskind academic bowl player.

Three amazing kids, each one a gift that Myles and Marcie send to us at Paideia every morning. All three intellectually curious, fully engaged with the world and determined to have as much fun as possible. They have and will continue to carry Myles’s spirit and example into the world. They possess the wonderful blend of heart and humor that we so appreciated in Myles.

The relationship between parent and teacher can be a difficult one. Both are members of a team that is guiding the student through the education experience. And sometimes, of course, teammates can squabble, disagreeing over the right play or the most effective strategy. The best sort of teammate is the one who trusts the other completely, who remains grateful for the other’s participation and influence. Throughout the years I’ve been on the same team as Myles and Marcie (and my colleagues will say the same), I have always felt their unyielding support, their enthusiasm and gratitude for what we do in the classroom. I have always treasured Myles as a teammate, not only in the school environment but in the trivia world, namely at Napoleon’s in Oak Grove, and as one of my more enthusiastic academic bowl team dads.

Last September, we Paideia junior high teachers have the very special annual event that we host with great excitement every year – the parent night open house. Because Josh and Ally are twins and are in two different classrooms, Myles and Marcie had to tag team with Marci going one direction and Myles in another to Ben and Rachel’s classroom. Myles had seen Martha’s and my spiel—when Adam was in our class – so he went to see what Ben and Rachel had to offer. Toward the end of the night, Myles came upstairs to our classroom, took a look around at the refreshments we were serving and said, “I’m staying here. You’ve got better alcohol.”

That was one of the last times I saw Myles and it’s a perfect memory for me. There it is in one moment: In a difficult period of his life, he cared enough about his children and their education, and felt such a great need to show his support to the teachers, that he attended what would be his last Parent night. And he did not leave that sharp wit, that sense of play at home. Great humor. Great heart.

At the very end of his book, Myles wrote the following: “At the risk of sounding like a country/gospel singer, there are angels watching over us as we take the journey… I can only hope that most of my angels coughed up the $3.99 for this eBook.” Myles, even if what you wrote there was corny and a but too sentimental, I think you’re right, there are angels watching and I hope that they continue to do the top-notch job that you have and will continue to do watching over us. 

Myles

Dear Friends and Family,

Myles passed away early this morning.  He started having trouble with his breathing yesterday and it got progressively worse throughout the day.  We believe he developed a blood clot in his leg that moved to his lungs.  He was given morphine to relax his lungs so his body wouldn't feel starved for air. He was very calm, dozed a little, but his mind was generally clear and he understood us when we talked to him.

The kids came to hospice for dinner as usual and all got a chance to say goodnight/goodbye when we left. Myles smiled and was aware and understood what we said.  He was not in pain and he was not scared.

Myles's two childhood best friends stayed the night at hospice so I could be at home with the kids, as they have done almost every other night for the past month. They were with Myles when he passed away, and for that, I am so grateful.

This Friday, February 7th, there will be a celebration of Myles's life at Congregation Shearith Israel at 10am followed by a graveside service at 12:30.  Details will be posted later today at www.jewishfuneralcare.com.

Thanks to all of you for your love, prayers, and support.

- Marcie and the kids

Myles's Final Post: As a Matter of Fact, I CAN Take it with Me

Myles dictated the following blog to me last week:

Arguing against what "they" say isn't usually a good starting point.  But in this case, it makes sense. "They" say you can't take it with you.  Usually referring to material possessions, the stuff we collect over a lifetime - cars, coins, whatever we find ourselves attracted to in life.  And it's true, at the end, those things don't matter.

What you can take with you are the lives you've touched.  The family you've raised, the reputation you've built for yourself as a person, not as a collector.

So I have much to bring with me, much to be proud of.

2/1/14 - Moe's and Joe's

The last few days have been a little tougher.  Myles is eating and drinking less, which I am told is to be expected as part of this process.  But, it's challenging as a good Jewish mother, to restrain myself from acting like one and saying to Myles, in my best Russian-born grandmother accent "Come on, just one more bite.  Do it for me."  But I do restrain myself and encourage everyone else to do the same because, after all, Myles is finally back in control of his body and we need to respect his wishes.  So, I hold myself back, and force food on my children instead, along with the requisite side dish of guilt (I can't completely turn my back on my heritage).

Despite eating and drinking less and resting more, Myles is still himself.  He tires very easily, and although he keeps his eyes closed a lot during the day, as I've warned visitors, he's not asleep and he hears all.  I think one friend now believes me after last night.

Two friends were visiting Myles late last night and were quietly talking at the table in Myles's room sharing some bourbon.  (Side note:  hospices, at least ours,  are very flexible with what you bring in.  The night we moved in, we were told we could bring anything other than an open flame.  I can't remember who then asked, "So we can bring in strippers?"  And was told, "Yes, as long as they don't light anything on fire.")

The friends thought Myles was asleep as they talked and drank.  Then I called Myles for my nightly bedtime call, and Myles answered "Moe's and Joe's" -  a popular local bar. Busted.  Never underestimate Myles - even with his eyes closed pleasantly floating on morphine.

- Marcie