My Remembrance about Ira

I was Ira’s grandson, and namesake, Ari, and I wrote this.

My Grandfather was probably the most exceptional person I have ever met, even though I have known him less then ten years. He is one of those people who permanently leaves a large print in anyone he meets, whether that person is rich, poor, mean, giving, young or old. I admired him for that, as it was what made him, well, him. Every person is unique, and he was a living example of that. He was different from others, and that was his quality.
He was different, because waste was the one thing he was a little crazy about. Whether the food was fresh or not, he ate it cheerfully and wouldn’t complain. He took a shower drop by drop, and the lights were always out when he wasn’t in the room. If the world lived that sort of lifestyle, climate change wouldn’t be on Obama’s agenda.
He was different, because, he was still a kid at heart. You would find him sitting in his favorite chair with a big box of gumdrops, sucking them slowly, putting great thought into it. He was always ready with a smile or two, and he always had something funny, witty and clever. He could make anyone laugh, another good quality of his.
He was different, because he had courage. He battled with a soldering iron (despite the fact of his being NOT AT ALL handy) to build a simple radio for my mother's science fair project, and was in the lead plane many times on World War II B-17 bombing missions over Germany. He won an Air Medal with three oak leaf clusters and a Distinguished Flying Cross for that, for all his courage.
He was different, because he was himself, his own unique person who had a treasure trove of talents inside him, who knew that and let it go to the world — for everyone to see. That’s why he was different, and I admired him.


Thanks for reading this.