They Don't Make 'em Like They Used To

COL Lew Zickel, West Point class of 1949 and author of the book of which I am lucky to be a part of died on Sunday night.

After seeing my mother on mother's day, I stopped by to say good-bye to Lew. His wife Yael, in accordance with his wishes, took him off the oxygen and other support equipment and we knew that he didn’t have much time. I was there with him from about 6:00 to 8:30, when I felt that I should give his family some time alone. Yael called me Monday morning to say that Lew passed at 8:45, 15 minutes after I left.

Lew was a great and humble man. He served two years as an infantryman in combat in Korea. At last, when he saw the Korean peninsula fading in the distance, he said to himself, "Zickel, a million Chinese soldiers didn’t kill you in two years...you got lucky, and everyday here on out is a gift." And, to the best of my knowledge he lived his life in full appreciation of this gift.

He served on active duty, achieving the rank of "bird" Colonel. After retiring for the service, Lew had a second full career as a civilian engineer. Not only was he a master builder, his added specialty was engineering forensics. He had a soft spot in his heart for everyone, except that is for engineers that took short cuts, built substandard structures and hurt people as a result. When he talked about them, I realized how Lew had survived in Korea for two years...I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of his scoldings.

His true loves are easy to identify - his family and West Point.

Lew was truly a family man. It was obvious not just in the way that he felt and talked about them, but in the way that they talked and acted around him.

Lew built more than a dozen buildings and other structures on the hallowed ground of West Point. His legacy there will go on forever.

I perhaps more than most "non-Zickels" felt these items in Lew because much in Lew's family's experience was similar to my family's experience. Maybe I latched onto him because some things in him were so familiar to me.

Lew and Yael, both divorced and with children from prior marriages, wed and built a family together, an inclusive one. I've heard stories describing how Lew raised Yael's children as if they were his own, and that in his eyes there were no differences. When my stepfather, Len, married my mother he raised my brothers Amit, Dov and me as if we were his own. And, I never knew or felt any other feeling but the deepest love and respect for him for it. I know how Yael's children and grandchildren feel about Lew. I know that their loss will be as profound as my loss when Len died. Sometimes Lew and I would talk about family life and I knew that he was cut from a similar cloth as Len.

Both Lew and Len were children of the depression. Lew was raised in industrial northern New Jersey and Len in industrial Allentown, PA. Both served in the Korean War, Lew in the Army and Len in the Navy. Both of their second wives were Israeli-sabra women (there has to be something there!). Both took in and raised and loved another man's children as their own. Both loved the military. Len served fewer years, but he was proudest when talking about being an officer in the United States Navy. Both loved this great land and believed that the United States was the greatest place on God's green earth. Both were involved in their communities; Lew through his engineering and Len as a community doctor. Both were loved by their communities and everyone around them.

Both Lew and Len worked until the very end. Len went to work to care for patients all his life, first in private practice, then as a doctor at West Point, and ultimately as a doctor in the Veteran's Administration. Len went to work until the day he went into the hospital never to come home again. Lew continued to write to complete his manuscript and to dedicate every drop of energy to his other great love, West Point and the West Point Jewish Chapel, until the very end.

I don’t know...maybe people were raised in a different way back then. Maybe the times were simpler. But, they sure don’t make them like they used to any more. Character mattered. Integrity mattered. Dedication mattered. Loyalty matterd. But, so did love, compassion and humilty. Lew had it all.

Maybe now you know why I latched on to Lew and loved him. I miss him.