There are some men whom you encounter as a child who have a tangible impact on your life that you never forget. Hillel Diamond was this man in my life and the lives of many boys in who came of age during the 1960s in Toronto.
I went to a funeral today that really was a celebration of a man’s life. Sure, we hear this expression so often that it drifts into the realm of cliché, particularly when speaker after speaker talks about the private and family details that only they remember. Yet in the case of Hillel Diamond the memories were shared by so many of us who indeed were on hand to mark his passing.
I first met Hillel Diamond when I was 14 years old. A science teacher who also played first violin with the symphony, Hillel and his wife Tova ran a small store in downtown Toronto known as “The Science Shop”. Filled to the brim with kits and games and puzzles and chemicals and kites and rockets and even a human skeleton named Matilda hanging in the corner; it was Arnold’s Hamburgers for 1960s geeks. It was heaven.
Hillel passed away this week, too early at the age of 86, but during his life he encouraged thousands of students of all ages that science and experimentation were not just to be confined inside a classroom.
It was the late 1960’s and we were all glued to the TV for each launch to the moon. We all wanted to build and fly rockets as well, and Hillel was our leader. He formed and subsidized the local rocket club, taking many of us out to the fields all over the countryside for the launches and shlepping us home.
Hillel had a lifelong love of science and discovery that kept him young. When we ventured out on our “rocket trips” he interacted with us as “one of the guys” rather than the ”adult supervison” that our parents thought him to be. He always had a gleam in his eye whenever someone would show up with some contraption that they hoped would fly. For Hillel Diamond, it was the hope not necessarily the flight that mattered. We all looked forward to the events and expeditions, because we never quite knew what would happen. It was always fun and exciting-sometimes a little too exciting-but Hillel enjoyed those parts above the rest.
I was privileged to know Hillel for nearly 45 years, and he was a true renaissance man, whether discussing the latest in cosmology or playing the violin in the orchestra.
There are times when a funeral can take 30 minutes and each minute can seem to last for an hour. In the spirit of relativity, this hour-long funeral seemed to go by in a minute. It was a true celebration of his life. The rabbi’s sweet voice filled the room with psalms. She may not have had the mind for it; Hillel was her uncle.
At the cemetery, a very traditional service. Once the grave had been filled, a single rocket was launched as a final “fly-past”.
It was a uniquely sweet afternoon and a celebration that was a funeral.
Stan,
This is one of the sweetest stories of the impact that a teacher-mensch has on the lives of the people they touch. Thank you for sharing it.
It reminded me of the story of a teacher-mensch my wife had in 8th grade whose lesson critical thinking is still memorable to all her classmates all these years later. Fortunately, my wife was able to visit with this remarkable woman, now in her 90′s, and share the impact of these lessons have had on her life and the lives of so many others. It becomes one of life’s special moments when you can recall the important people that shape who we are, only the more special if we can share it with them while they are still alive to receive the gratitude the deserve.
Tova, his late wife, was my dad’s father (Aaron)’s sister. The children, my dad’s first cousins, were quite something, vastly intelligent and sharp. Grandchildren are named after my zaida and their sister Sarah, I did not know that before. When Hillel and Tova came to Winnipeg for visits we were showered with unique gifts and became the only kids in town with those rockets and hugh aerodynamic kites and space age gyroscopes. I remember my first trips to Toronto, about 4 years in a row as a teen, going to the shop. A very big part of my childhood.
Stan,
Your story is touching, and you reveal a side of yourself we don’t always see. You remind us that we impact each other, and we can give gifts to each other that are more enduring than the imagination can conceive. Well done.
Art
Stan
Not everyone is so fortunate as to have a Hillel Diamond enter into their lives.
My wife, Barbara’s brother, Elliott did. And he made Aliyah to Israel as a consequence.
There is big brother aspect to this. If you are lucky enough, it carries you through your entire life.
The closest I came to this was Steve Shatkin, the son of our next door neighbor.
Steve was in high school when I was in my single digits. He had a motion picture projector and for my birthdays, Mom would rent cartoons from a distributor across town. We would hang a sheet in the living room and Steve would come over with his projector.
This lasted for maybe 5 years.
Many years later, I heard that Steve had formed a partnership to buy Camp Mendota, a Jewish Camp.
When this is the place your heart takes you, it is such a wonderful and remarkable experince for those young people around you.
Thanks for sharing.
I would like to assume that God isn’t finished with Hillel Diamond. There is more to do.
harvey