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ORATOR JORDAN'S TRIBUTE TO HY MARZEN © 2004 Jordan Margolis A couple decades ago, when Holly stole my heart, I knew better than to steal away Hy Marzen's daughter without permission. Since it was winter and the Marzen lovebirds were also snowbirds in Florida, I sent a telegram. "Hey Big M. I love your daughter. I promise to make her happy and secure. If I don't hear any objections by 8:00 tonight, I'll assume we have your blessing and I'll pop the question." And probably for the first and last time in his life, Hy Marzen didn't speak out and make himself heard. Lucky for me. So since then, like all of us here today, I have been blessed by his presence. Hy Marzen was born and raised and tested on the West Side of Chicago. Street smart and savvy, Hy loved to hondle and deal. He thrived on business challenges. Though small in size, he fiercely protected his staff and customers in the really tough neighborhoods in which he set up his tavern and liquor stores. I could tell you some stories, but I won't; because dad wouldn't want me to worry mother, even if they happened 40 or more years ago. Hy Marzen wasn't much for small talk. You all know that. Hy liked to make a point. Remember how he did it? He'd lean over during the conversation, touch your hand, and tell you another one of his wonderful stories. And we'd all listen and learn. Hy didn't have any academic degrees, but he was our scholar in residence, teaching all of us well the lessons of life. That's what he did as the head of the Marzen family, a job from which he has never retired. He had a wife and 3 daughters, so he worked day and night. He had 7 grandchildren and 3 greatgrandchildren, so he and mother attended every recital, play, concert, ballgame, graduation, wedding, bar or Bat Mitvah, baby naming or briss with pride and love. And they were always early. Hy loved his family. He was intimately involved in all of our lives. He'd initiate a Mr. Fixit project whenever he came over, and he'd just as quickly ascertain some major career dilemma for which he'd give you his two cents and no more. Like I said, he wasn't much for small talk. Now let me tell you something about Hy Marzen's heart. He didn't have a bad heart, Hy Marzen was all heart. He cared desperately about his family, he cared deeply about his beloved Jewish people, and he cared valiantly for his country, America. Wounded at Anzio in WWII, he walked with pain in his leg every day since without complaint. Hy was a fighter, all his life. His first heart attack was 25 years ago, his triple Hypass surgery was 10 years ago and he held on long enough to see Jori's Bat Mitzvah last month and beautiful baHy Jolie this past week. He got every ounce of life out of that heart of his. Hy had guts and Hy had pride. You all saw it. He'd never use a cane because it would make him look like an old man, and he was only 81. 10 days ago, he made up his mind to get out of the hospital and go home. He woke us up early with the news. When mother and I entered his room, he was already dressed, sitting in a chair and he said, "what took you so long?" When we got to the condo, I was dreading that long hallway to their apartment but I forgot who I was dealing with - he walked it all the way. He was home. It was not an easy week, but it was special. We were all there for him as he had always been for us. On the last night, we rented a John Wayne movie. The next morning, Stuart came to take him to the doctor and brought a wheel chair to help dad get down that long hallway.. Stuart forgot who he was dealing with too. Hy Marzen was never going to be seen by his neighbors like that. So he pushed the chair ahead of him like a stroller and walked every last step on his own. I told you, Hy had guts and Hy had pride. I gotta believe he looked a lot like John Wayne doing his famous strut. And so Big M, now you deserve to rest. You've done your job exceptionally well. We're all safe and sound. We'll miss your smile and your songs. And we know what you expect of us. All of us here, friends and family, promise to make mother happy and secure. And your memory is all the blessing we need. We love you. PRINTER FRIENDLY VERSION |
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