Monday, June 24, 2013

A00013 - Paul Soros, Shipping Innovator

Paul Soros, Shipping Innovator, Dies at 87

  • FACEBOOK
  • TWITTER
  • GOOGLE+
  • SAVE
  • E-MAIL
  • SHARE
  • PRINT
  • REPRINTS
When Paul Soros, as a young engineer, observed that large cargo ships could not get to shallow-water piers to load and unload, he came up with a radical solution: take the piers to the ships.
Librado Romero/The New York Times
Paul Soros build Soros Associates, which has dominated the port-building industry.

The idea sprang from his boyhood in Hungary. He remembered seeing buoys being used to create floating piers on the Danube, where he and his younger brother, George, who would grow up to become one of the richest men in the world, spent peaceful days at the family’s summer home before war changed everything for them.
Replicating the system in the United States, Mr. Soros, who died early Saturday at his home in Manhattan at 87, went on to build Soros Associates, which has dominated the port-building industry and shifted international trade and production patterns through its shipping innovations.
The Brazilian national mining company, for example, used Soros designs at its port of Tubarão to become the world’s largest iron ore producer, more than quintupling Brazil’s output in the process. Mr. Soros’s company, with projects in 90 countries, either designed or expanded seven of the 10 largest bulk ports in the world for bauxite, alumina and coal as well as for iron ore.
Mr. Soros died at his home on Fifth Avenue, his son Peter said. He had been treated for Parkinson’s disease, cancer, diabetes and renal failure. He had lost a kidney as a young man and later an eye in a freak accident during a golfing lesson. Earlier he had lived through harrowing times, threatened by Nazis and taken prisoner by Russians before managing to flee to the West.
And he lived in the long shadow of his brother, who found fame as an investor, philanthropist and promoter of progressive political causes. Indeed, Paul was often called “the invisible Soros.”
He was born Paul Schwartz on June 5, 1926 in Budapest, the son of Tivadar Schwartz, a well-connected Jewish lawyer, publisher, investor and former officer in the Austro-Hungarian Army, and the former Erzebet Szucz, the daughter of a well-to-do fabric store owner. During World War I, his father was captured by Russian troops and imprisoned in a Siberian camp before escaping and making his way to Budapest.
Theirs was a comfortable and cultured life, with ski vacations in Austria and summers on the Danube. Paul became an expert skier and a star tennis player and attended a technical college in Hungary.
But in 1936, as Hungary began aligning itself with fascist powers and anti-Semitism spread, the family changed its name to Soros. When German troops entered Budapest in 1944 and began rounding up Jews for deportation to concentration camps or shooting them outright on the banks of the Danube, Tivadar forged identity papers that gave the family false names and portrayed them as Christians. They survived a year of terror, living in safe houses and scraping together supplies until the Russians came and the Nazis were defeated.
The Soviet authorities, however, accused Paul Soros of being a fugitive SS officer and sent him on a forced march east with other prisoners “in rows of four,” Mr. Soros wrote in an unpublished memoir for his family. As they approached a stream beside a village, he recalled, “I knew that, after the bridge, there were no more villages, just open country. With snow on the ground there was no way to get away or hide.”
So as the prisoners and their Russians guards squeezed across the bridge, “I simply made a run for it,” Mr. Soros wrote, escaping the guards’ notice. He hid himself in a burned-out farmhouse and “watched the column pass for about an hour” before walking back to Budapest.
Afterward he became a member of the Hungarian ski team and would have joined it at the 1948 Olympics had it not been for an injury. He soon left home for Soviet-occupied Austria, where he became the country’s No. 2 tennis player and an expert at forging passports. Seeking to defect to the West, he managed to make his way to New York in 1948 on a one-year student visa.
George, meanwhile, at 17 and with his father’s help, fled communist Hungary under the pretense of attending a conference in Switzerland. He traveled to London, where he enrolled in a technical school with a distant relative’s help, did odd jobs to support himself and later was admitted to the London School of Economics.
Paul and George Soros were rivals when young; George believed the firstborn Paul received more attention from their parents. In his memoir Paul wrote that they had had “a pretty bad relationship” as youngsters and that as young men they did not see each other for eight years until reuniting in London.
They acknowledged becoming closer, however, while living in New York years later; their Upper East Side homes were only blocks apart. George handled some of Paul’s investments, which proved quite lucrative and contributed to Paul’s own immense fortune.
After arriving in the United States, Paul was soon admitted to St. Lawrence University in Canton, N.Y., but left early on after losing a kidney in a skiing accident in which a buried slalom pole popped up and speared him in the back. After his recovery he enrolled at the Polytechnic Institute of Brooklyn, now affiliated with New York University.
Once out of college, he took a succession of engineering jobs before joining Hewitt Robins International, a maker of conveyor belting and industrial hose, as a sales engineer in the export department. By then he had married Daisy Schlenger, whom he had met in New York, and moved to Connecticut.
But he grew restless, wanting to strike out on his own, and though he was offered the chance to run Hewitt Robins’ European operations in Amsterdam, he turned it down and quit to form Soros Associates, based at first in his Connecticut home.
“Not that being a big shot in Europe was a hardship prospect,” he wrote in his memoir. “But I knew that if I did not try the alternative, all my life it would bug me, what if?”
Soros Associates, which is based in New York and has offices throughout the world, became a leading international provider of port planning, engineering and installations. Mr. Soros acknowledged that a variation of his buoy system had been used for oil tankers, but pumping oil from ship to port is a process far different from unloading raw materials like bauxite, iron ore and coal.
Besides his son Peter, Mr. Soros is survived by his wife; another son, Jeffrey; his brother, George; four grandchildren and one step-granddaughter. A third son, Steven, died at 18 months in a playground accident; an 18-month-old daughter, Linda, died after being hit by a vehicle backing out of their garage.
Mr. Soros and his wife had homes in New Canaan, Conn.; on Nantucket in Massachusetts and on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. It was in New Canaan that he lost an eye while taking an indoor golf lesson at a country club. In his memoir, which he titled “American (Con)quest,” he wrote that after he had reached 65 his taxable income exceeded $100 million a year.
But he said his lifestyle was not lavish.
“I find conspicuous consumption in bad taste and something of an insult to people who have to work hard to make ends meet,” he wrote.
He played rubber bridge well into his 80s and at such a high level that his skill won the attention of the bridge columnist for The New York Times in 2010.
In 1998 Mr. Soros and his wife created a trust called the Paul & Daisy Soros Fellowships for New Americans, which provides grants to immigrants for graduate study; the endowment eventually totaled $75 million. For 18 years, through 2012, they underwrote Midsummer Night Swing, Lincoln Center’s outdoor dance party.
“My story is riches to rags to riches again,” Mr. Soros once said. “I was lucky to survive. The rest was relatively easy.”

Sunday, June 23, 2013

A00012 - Yoram Kaniuk, Israeli Author

Yoram Kaniuk, Israeli author, dies at 83

By Stefanie Dazio,June 16, 2013
Yoram Kaniuk, a prominent Israeli writer whose dozens of novels resonated with themes of Jewish survival, Israel’s war of independence and his conflicted relationship with his homeland, died June 8 at a hospital in Tel Aviv. He was 83.
His daughter Naomi Kaniuk confirmed the death to the Associated Press. He had cancer.
Among Mr. Kaniuk’s best-known books are his first, “The Acrophile” (1960), about an Israeli living in New York who attempts to ignore his Jewish background; “Himmo, King of Jerusalem,” about the relationship between a nurse and a patient gravely injured in war; and “His Daughter,” about a military officer’s search for his missing child.
His novel “Adam Resurrected,” set in an Israeli mental institution and whose characters include Holocaust survivors, was turned into a 2008 film directed by Paul Schrader and starring Jeff Goldblum, Willem Dafoe and Derek Jacobi.
If Mr. Kaniuk’s writing was sometimes seen as offbeat and mordant, it derived in large part from two of the defining experiences of his life: combat during the Israeli war for independence in the late 1940s, followed by nearly a decade immersed in the New York jazz scene.
Mr. Kaniuk was a member of Israel’s founding generation. At 17, he joined the Palmach, the underground fighting units, and suffered a severe leg wound during a battle near Jerusalem. After recovering, he worked on a boat that ferried Holocaust survivors to Israel after World War II.
Born into a cultured family, Mr. Kaniuk studied painting in Paris, foraged for diamonds and gold in Central America, then settled amid the Greenwich Village bohemian set in New York. His encounters with leading writers and cultural figures, such as Dylan Thomas and Charlie Parker, sparked ambitions toward a literary career.
“I have been told that I write in an unacceptable literary style,” Mr. Kaniuk once told an Israeli reporter. “But I write the way I speak. I couldn’t write, so I felt helpless, and my style of writing came out of this helplessness.”
He added, “Yes, I think you could say my writing is like bebop, you know, like improvisation, like jazz.”
In addition to his books, Mr. Kaniuk was widely published as a newspaper essayist. He showed increasing dissatisfaction with what he considered the dominance of the ultra-religious in Israeli society and expressed no desire to be part of what he termed a “Jewish Iran.”
Mr. Kaniuk defined himself as Jewish by ethnicity, not by religion. In 2011, he successfully petitioned the courts to be considered a Jew of no religion in the state population registry. He motivated other secularists frustrated with the rabbinical establishment “to get Kaniuked,” or to change their official status to “without religion,” according to the Jerusalem Post.
But he said his plan wasn’t to galvanize anyone else into action: He said he did it for his grandson, who was classified as being “without religion” because of Israel’s matrilineal laws. Mr. Kaniuk’s wife, Miranda, was Christian, which meant their descendents would not be considered Jewish.
“I thought one day he’ll grow up and he’ll say to himself, ‘My grandfather wanted to be like me,’ ” Mr. Kaniuk told the Jerusalem paper. “And besides, I’m tired of being a minority in my own home.”
Yoram Kaniuk was born May 2, 1930, in Tel Aviv to parents who had emigrated from Europe to what was then the British mandate of Palestine. His father, who was from Galicia, became personal secretary to a mayor of Tel Aviv and later was curator of the city’s art museum. His mother was from Odessa, Russia.
His first marriage, to Lee Becker, a dancer, ended in divorce. In 1958, he married Miranda Baker, who survives him, along with their two daughters, Aya and Naomi.
Mr. Kaniuk won several high literary honors in Israel. In 2010, he published a book based on his experiences in the Palmach, “1948.” His final book, “An Old Man,” came out last year.

Friday, June 14, 2013

A00011 - Frank Lautenberg, New Jersey Senator

Frank Lautenberg, New Jersey Senator in His 5th Term, Dies at 89

Keith Meyers/The New York Times
Frank R. Lautenberg, a Democrat running for the Senate in 1982, marching with Mayor Edward I. Koch and Bella Abzug in a parade in Manhattan. More Photos »
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Google+
  • Save
  • E-mail
  • Share
  • Print
  • Reprints
Frank R. Lautenberg, who fought the alcohol and tobacco industries and promoted Amtrak as a five-term United States senator from New Jersey, died on Monday in Manhattan. He was 89.

Multimedia

Connect With NYTMetro

Metro Twitter Logo.
Follow us on Twitter and like us on Facebook for news and conversation.
Andrew Henderson/The New York Times
Senator Frank R. Lautenberg celebrates his primary victory in 2008.

More Photos »
Office of Senator Frank Lautenberg
Mr. Lautenberg, in Paris in World War II. More Photos »

Readers’ Comments

Readers shared their thoughts on this article.
The cause was complications of viral pneumonia, his office said. In 2010, it announced that he had stomach cancer. Though he and his doctors expected a complete recovery, Senator Lautenberg, a Democrat, decided not to seek re-election next year.
His death leaves a vacancy in the Senate that will be filled by Gov. Chris Christie of New Jersey, a Republican. If the governor appoints a Republican, as expected, his party will hold 46 Senate seats while the Democrats’ number will drop to 52. Two independents caucus with the Democrats.
Mr. Lautenberg was the Senate’s oldest member and last surviving veteran of World War II. He had been frequently absent from the Senate in recent months because of failing health but did appear in April in a wheelchair to cast votes in favor of tougher gun-control measures, which were defeated.
First elected in 1982 at age 58 after a successful business career, Mr. Lautenberg served three terms, retired and instantly regretted the decision. When Senator Robert G. Torricelli made a last-minute decision not to seek re-election in 2002, Mr. Lautenberg ran in his place and won the seat. He was re-elected in 2008.
Never a flashy senator — his colleagues Bill Bradley and Mr. Torricelli got more attention — Mr. Lautenberg acquired influence on the Appropriations Committee and had a consistently liberal voting record. Americans for Democratic Action said he had voted liberal 94 percent of the time.
Mr. Lautenberg’s first major victory came in 1984. A freshman senator in the minority party, he pushed through a provision to establish a national drinking age of 21, a measure that threatened to cut 10 percent of a state’s federal highway money if it did not comply. He argued that the change would save lives by ending “a crazy quilt of drinking ages in neighboring states” and prevent those under 21 from driving over “blood borders” to get drunk and then try to drive home.
“He had to fight like hell to get it through,” Jay A. Winsten, associate dean of the Harvard School of Public Health, said in an interview. “The estimates are that the cumulative lives saved are in excess of 25,000.”
Mr. Lautenberg followed that move 16 years later with another condition on highway spending: States must designate 0.08 percent blood alcohol as the level that would constitute being drunk.
In 1989, he led a successful fight to ban smoking on all commercial airline flights. Mr. Lautenberg, once a two-pack-a-day smoker, told the Senate: “With this legislation, nonsmokers, including children and infants, will be free from secondhand smoke. Working flight attendants will avoid a hazard that has jeopardized their health and their jobs.”
He later pursued legislation that prohibited smoking in federal buildings and in all federally financed places that serve children.
Mr. Lautenberg’s other legislative achievements include a 1996 law denying gun ownership to people who have committed domestic violence. He was also the author of legislation requiring that by 2012 all cargo destined for United States ports be screened for nuclear material, a requirement that both the Bush and the Obama administrations said could not be met.
Passenger railroads were another priority of the senator. He won an important victory in 2008 with legislation that nearly doubled Amtrak’s subsidy, and he advocated for federal money to help build another commuter rail tunnel between New Jersey and Manhattan. When Mr. Christie killed the tunnel project in 2011, saying it was too expensive, Mr. Lautenberg, who was a critic of the governor, said the move “will go down as one of the biggest public policy blunders in New Jersey’s history.”
Another Lautenberg measure gave refugee status to people from historically persecuted groups without requiring them to show that they had been singled out. The senator estimated that 350,000 to 400,000 Jews entered the United States under that 1990 law. Evangelical Christians from the former Soviet Union also benefited from the law.
Mr. Lautenberg had never held elected office before running for senator, but he immediately took to the sharp style of New Jersey politics. His entry to the Senate and his return were preceded by scandals involving another Democrat. In 1982, Senator Harrison A. Williams Jr. resigned after being convicted of bribery in the federal corruption investigation known as Abscam. In 2002, the Senate Ethics Committee declared that Mr. Torricelli was “severely admonished” for failing to report gifts from a contributor while helping the contributor’s business through official acts. Mr. Torricelli quit the race six weeks before the election.
Campaigning was rough in Mr. Lautenberg’s first two races. In 1982 he implied that this opponent, Millicent Fenwick, a 72-year-old moderate Republican who had clashed with President Richard M. Nixon, was too old. He called her “eccentric” and offered doubts about her “fitness.” He won an upset victory with 51 percent of the vote.
In 1988, he and Pete Dawkins, a former West Point football star and Vietnam War hero, slugged it out with blunt and sometimes provably false campaign television advertisements. “Gladiator sports are in,” Mr. Lautenberg observed. He won with 54 percent.
Mr. Lautenberg contributed heavily to his own campaigns, using the wealth he had gained after joining with two boyhood friends to develop a payroll services company, Automatic Data Processing, now better known as ADP.
Mr. Lautenberg was a strong backer of motorcycle-helmet laws. Mark V. Rosenker, a former chairman of the National Transportation Safety Board, recalled on Monday that the senator had kept a broken helmet in his office and showed it to visitors.
“He was skiing and he hit a tree or a rock or something, and that thing broke open like an egg, and it saved his life,” Mr. Rosenker said.
Frank Raleigh Lautenberg was born in Paterson, N.J., on Jan. 23, 1924, to Sam and Mollie Lautenberg, Jewish immigrants from Poland and Russia. The family was poor. His father repeatedly tried to start up small businesses, returning to work in Paterson’s silk mills when the ventures failed.
In 2000, Mr. Lautenberg accompanied a reporter for The Star-Ledger of Newark to a long-closed silk mill. “My father took me in there one time and told me to look around,” he told the reporter. “He said you must never work like this. He said you have to get an education. I was 12; it didn’t mean a lot to me at the time. But it must have sunk in, because I did get an education. I didn’t want to work and struggle like he did.”
Mr. Lautenberg served in the Army Signal Corps in World War II and, after his discharge in 1946, used the postwar G.I. Bill of Rights to attend Columbia University, graduating in 1949. That experience, he said later, made him a strong supporter of the G.I. Bill enacted over Bush administration objections in 2008. The measure sharply increased educational benefits.
He briefly worked for the Prudential Insurance Company, but in 1952 approached Joe and Henry Taub, the classmates who had only recently started the payroll firm. Mr. Lautenberg persuaded them to hire him to sell the company’s services.
When he joined the company, he was its fifth employee. But it grew rapidly, and by 1982, when he left the company as its chief executive, it was one of the largest computer service companies in the world, with 15,000 employees.
He is survived by his wife, the former Bonnie Englebardt, whom he married in 2004; 4 children from his first marriage, to Lois Levenson, which ended in divorce in 1988: Nan Morgart, Ellen Lautenberg, Lisa Birer and Josh Lautenberg; 2 stepchildren, Danielle Englebardt and Lara Englebardt Metz; and 13 grandchildren.
As a boy Mr. Lautenberg did not have a bar mitzvah because his family’s poverty and frequent moves precluded joining a synagogue. But after he became aware of the Holocaust during the war, he began to contribute to Jewish causes. In 1968 he established the Lautenberg Center for General and Tumor Immunology at the Hebrew University Medical Faculty in Jerusalem. He served as president of the American Friends of Hebrew University, was a member of the Jewish Agency for Israel’s board of governors, and from 1975 to 1977 was general chairman of the United Jewish Appeal.
He also began donating money to Democratic candidates, including $90,000 to George McGovern’s presidential race in 1972, the last before there were effective limits on individual contributions.
When asked once why he had decided to enter politics at 58, he said he had been giving money to liberals like Mr. McGovern, Birch Bayh, Edward M. Kennedy and Gary Hart. “If I’m willing to support them,” he asked rhetorically, “why shouldn’t I support myself?”

Friday, May 24, 2013

A00010 - Albert Seedman, NYC Chief of Detectives


Albert Seedman, Chief of Detectives in New York for Short, Tumultuous Time, Dies at 94

  • FACEBOOK
  • TWITTER
  • GOOGLE+
  • SAVE
  • E-MAIL
  • SHARE
  • PRINT
  • REPRINTS
Albert Seedman, the New York Police Department’s chief of detectives in the early 1970s who became something of a celebrity as the savvy, cigar-chomping personification of the tough-guy cop while modernizing a tradition-bound force, died on Friday in Delray Beach, Fla. He was 94.
New York Herald Tribune
Albert Seedman, a New York police captain in 1962, helped photographers get a better picture of a murder suspect’s face.

Connect with NYTMetro

Metro Twitter Logo.
Follow us on Twitterand like us onFacebook for news and conversation.
The cause was congestive heart failure, his granddaughter Alison Stiegler said. He lived in Boynton Beach, Fla.
Mr. Seedman oversaw New York City’s 3,000 or so detectives for only 13 months, but he seemed to be everywhere during a tumultuous time.
Three pairs of police officers were shot — four of the officers were killed and two grievously wounded — in ambushes by the Black Liberation Army. The underworld boss Joseph A. Colombo Sr. was shot in the head by a gunman who was himself shot to death seconds later at Mr. Colombo’s Italian-American Day rally in Columbus Circle. The mob leader Joey Gallo was fatally shot at a Little Italy restaurant. Gunmen posing as guests looted 47 safe deposit boxes at the Hotel Pierre.
The Police Department meanwhile faced a major corruption investigation in which Mr. Seedman was briefly caught up before being exonerated.
As chief of detectives from March 1971 to April 1972, he was often the department’s face, pleased to supply a quotation for the press though he might not be telling all.
Stocky and broad-shouldered, invariably chewing on a cigar, he wore white-on-white patterned shirts with “Al” embroidered on the sleeves, sported bejeweled rings on both hands and carried a pearl-handled revolver.
He may have evoked the style of an old-school detective, but he represented the changing ways of law enforcement. He graduated from the City College business school (now Baruch College) in 1941, received graduate degrees in public administration and oversaw what Patrick V. Murphy, the police commissioner who made him chief of detectives, called “the first major change in the force in half a century.”
Mr. Seedman was the prime architect of a major restructuring of the way detectives and patrol officers did their jobs. Instead of catching whatever case came their way at a station house, detectives were assigned to a specialty — perhaps homicides or robberies — while officers on patrol were permitted to investigate some crimes for the first time.
His ascendancy marked a change as well in the department’s aura.
“The Jewish cop was an alien in an Irish universe,” the crime novelist Jerome Charyn wrote in The New York Times in 2004. “Enter Albert Seedman, the first, last and only Jewish chief of detectives. It’s the 1970s and Chief Seedman is all over the place, tough, flamboyant and foul-mouthed, chomping on a cigar, appearing at the scene of important crimes. He seemed more Irish than the Irish, as if he had co-opted their territory, their language, their domain.”
Albert A. Seedman (the middle initial was solely that) was born on Aug. 9, 1918, in the Bronx, the son of a taxi driver. He liked to say that he first thought of becoming a police officer as a stairwell monitor in grade school.
He joined the department in 1942, returned to it after Army service in World War II.
By 1962 he was a captain, but his career almost fell apart over the “perp walk,” in which police officers paraded suspects for the benefit of news photographers.
Mr. Seedman was taking Anthony Dellernia, a suspect in the fatal shooting of two detectives during a Brooklyn tobacco shop robbery, out of a station house when he grabbed Mr. Dellernia under the chin and squeezed his cheek so photographers could see his face. The American Civil Liberties Union demanded that Mr. Seedman be disciplined for using inappropriate force in the interests of publicity.
Commissioner Michael J. Murphy publicly expressed regret about the incident, and Mr. Seedman’s expected promotion to deputy inspector was postponed. Mr. Dellernia was acquitted; two others were convicted.
Mr. Seedman handled high-profile cases even before becoming the detectives chief.
He oversaw the investigation that solved the 1964 Kitty Genovese murder, which had shocked the city when it was reported in the press that 38 neighbors had heard Ms. Genovese’s late-night cries on a Queens street without summoning help.
When he was chief of detectives for the southern half of Brooklyn in 1967, a 17-year-old girl was killed by a bullet fired through an open window of her car as she drove on the Belt Parkway near the ocean.
Mr. Seedman oversaw an investigation in which 2,400 people were interviewed. Detectives located a gas station owner who had fired a rifle from his fishing boat while taking target practice at a floating beer can. One bullet had evidently ricocheted off the water and gone through the car window. A grand jury ruled the shooting a bizarre accident.
In October 1971, while chief of detectives, Mr. Seedman found his integrity in question. A few days before the Knapp Commission, appointed by Mayor John V. Lindsay, opened hearings into police corruption, he was transferred out of his post when it was disclosed that he had accepted a free meal from the management of the New York Hilton for himself, his wife and two guests in March 1970. But Commissioner Patrick Murphy reinstated him a few days later.
Mr. Seedman retired in April 1972 to become chief of security for the Alexander’s department store chain.
His resignation came two weeks after Police Officer Philip Cardillo was shot with his own gun during a struggle inside a Nation of Islam mosque in Harlem, having responded to a 911 phone call — later determined to be a ruse — stating that a policeman was in trouble there. Officer Cardillo died of his wounds.
The police had left the mosque abruptly while suspects were still being held there, and no one was ever convicted in the killing.
An internal department report prepared in 1973, but not made public until 1983, found that it was Mr. Seedman who made the decision to allow 16 people being lined up for questioning inside the mosque to go free, under a promise from mosque officials that they would later be made available to the police. They never were. The report attributed the decision to break off the on-site investigation in part to the threat of a riot outside the mosque.
But in an introduction to a 2011 e-book edition of his memoir, “Chief,” Mr. Seedman saidhe had been ordered to remove the police from the mosque by Chief Inspector Michael Codd because of fears of racial violence. He said it was his anger over that order that compelled him to retire. Mr. Codd later became the police commissioner. He died in 1985.
A 1980 report by a state grand jury cited three police officials as having been derelict in curtailing the investigation, but their names were not made public.
Besides his granddaughter Ms. Stiegler, Mr. Seedman’s survivors include his wife of 43 years, the former Henny Joseph; a daughter, Marilyn Stiegler; two sons, Barry and David; five other grandchildren; and five great-grandchildren.
Mr. Seedman spent his later years in the placid condominium belt of South Florida, but he retained touches of rough-and-tumble New York. He carried a replica of his chief of detectives gold badge. And Jack Kitaeff, author of the 2006 book “Jews in Blue,” said Mr. Seedman told him that in his late 80s he still carried a revolver “in case there is trouble.”

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

A00009 - Geza Vermes, 'Historical Jesus" Scholar


Geza Vermes, Scholar of ‘Historical Jesus,’ Dies at 88



  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Google+
  • Save
  • E-mail
  • Share
  • Print
  • Reprints

Geza Vermes, a religious scholar who argued that Jesus as a historical figure could be understood only through the Jewish tradition from which he emerged, and who helped expand that understanding through his widely read English translations of the Dead Sea Scrolls, died on May 8 in Oxford, England. He was 88.

Geraint Lewis
Geza Vermes
World Twitter Logo.

Connect With Us on Twitter

Follow @nytimesworld for international breaking news and headlines.
His death was confirmed by David Ariel, the president of the Oxford Center for Hebrew and Jewish Studies, where Dr. Vermes was most recently an honorary fellow.
Dr. Vermes, born in Hungary to Jewish parents who converted to Christianity when he was 6, was among many scholars after World War II who sought to reveal a “historical Jesus” by painting an objective portrait of the man who grew up in Nazareth about 2,000 years ago and emerged as a religious leader when he was in his 30s.
Drawing on new archaeological evidence — particularly the scrolls, which were discovered by an Arab shepherd in a cave northwest of the Dead Sea in 1947 — historians of many stripes agreed on a basic sketch of Jesus, but their religious biases sometimes colored details.
“You can cut out the Jewish part — that is the traditional Christian path,” Dr. Vermes said in a 1994 interview with Herschel Shanks, the editor of Biblical Archaeology Review. “But if you are more demanding and want to go back to the sources, you will realize that Jesus stood before Christianity.”
The scrolls, written over several hundred years before, during and after Jesus lived, offered new insight into religious, cultural and political life at the time. Dr. Vermes became one of the scrolls’ essential translators and a vocal advocate for their broad dissemination. His 1962 book, “The Dead Sea Scrolls in English,” has been updated and reissued multiple times and is regarded as the most widely read version of the scrolls. It is often used as a course text.
Dr. Vermes had long been frustrated that only a handful of scholars had direct access to the scrolls, and he eventually made his frustrations public. In 1977, he said that their handling was “likely to become the academic scandal par excellence of the 20th century.” More than a decade passed, but the scrolls eventually became more easily accessible in their original form and through photographs.
The scrolls helped deepen Dr. Vermes’s interest in Judaism and in how perceptions of Jesus changed as Christianity spread. He argued that the messianic Jesus worshiped by modern Christians was largely created in the first three centuries after he died. In 1973 he wrote “Jesus the Jew,” the first of several books in which he placed Jesus in the tradition of Jewish teachers.
“When it came out, it sounded like a very provocative title,” Dr. Vermes recalled in 1994 of “Jesus the Jew.” “Today it is commonplace. Everybody knows now that Jesus was a Jew. But in 1973, although people knew that Jesus had something to do with Judaism, they thought that he was really something totally different.”
Dr. Vermes’s interest in cultural context echoed his personal history. His family was of Jewish ancestry but had not been practicing Jews since at least the first half of the 19th century. In 1931, with anti-Semitism rising in Europe, his parents converted to Roman Catholicism.
He enrolled in a Catholic seminary in Budapest in 1942, when he was 18, seeking to become a priest but also to protect himself. Two years later, his parents disappeared after being taken to a Nazi concentration camp.
He did become a priest — in the late 1940s he joined the Order of the Fathers of Notre-Dame de Sion, in Louvain, Belgium — but he left the priesthood the following decade after falling in love with his future wife, Pamela Hobson Curle, a poet and scholar who was married to another man when they met. Dr. Vermes later returned to Judaism.
Dr. Vermes was born on June 22, 1924, in Mako, Hungary. His father was a liberal journalist, his mother a teacher. He received his doctorate in theology from the Catholic University in Louvain in 1953; his dissertation was the first written about the scrolls.
He did research on the scrolls for several years in Paris before moving to England, where he initially spent eight years teaching at what is now Newcastle University. He published the first edition of his English translation of the scrolls while there. In 1965 he moved to Oxford, where he eventually became professor of Jewish studies and a governor of the Center for Hebrew and Jewish Studies. He was named professor emeritus in 1991.
Dr. Vermes’s survivors include his wife, Margaret, and a stepson, Ian. Pamela Vermes died in 1993.
Even as Dr. Vermes’s work challenged some Christian beliefs, he often talked of improving dialogue between Christians and Jews, and he was widely respected among scholars of various beliefs. Rowan Williams, the archbishop of Canterbury and head of the Anglican Communion, praised Dr. Vermes last year in a review of his final book, “Christian Beginnings: From Nazareth to Nicaea,” which traces the first 300 years of Christianity.
Writing in The Guardian, the archbishop called the book “beautiful and magisterial” but said it “leaves unsolved some of the puzzles that still make readers of the New Testament pause to ask what really is the right, the truthful, way to talk about a figure like the Jesus we meet in these texts.”
Lawrence H. Schiffman, a leading Dead Sea Scrolls scholar and the vice provost of Yeshiva University, said in an interview that Dr. Vermes had worked in an academic and religious environment in which “everybody knew Jesus was a Jew, of course.”
“But,” he added, “the refusal to acknowledge it — that he truly thought, acted and lived as a Jew — that took a while to get across.” Dr. Vermes, he said, “was a major force in making that happen.”