Jolly Jim the Judge

For nearly four years I have had a neighbor that I refer to as Jolly Jim the Judge.  

I met him the summer I moved here.  I was carrying a whole stack of Artscroll Talmuds for a student I was tutoring, and I arrived home with them at the end of an exhausting afternoon.  When the elevator opened, there was this big man with grey hair and a cain standing there, who said with a jolly smile, "Oops - Going down!"  Then while waiting for the door to close again, he spotted my books and said, "Are those law books?"  I didn't quite know what to say, since I realized, well, kind of they are, so I said, "Um, not exactly."  I let the elevator close and hoped that he wasn't there when it came back up, because I was just way too tired to deal with that friendly a person, and especially too tired to talk about Talmud.  And yet, when the elevator came back, there he was, jolly smile and all.  He looked at the books and saw the big word "Talmud," and said, "Ooooh, a different kind of law!"  I smiled and said, "Suppose so."  He asked what I do, and I said I'm a grad student.  "In what?"  I pointed my eyes down to my books.  "Ah, of course."  So I said, "What do you do?"  And he said in the jolliest friendliest tone, "I'm a judge."  "Wow!"  I said. " Cool!"  Ya don't really expect that.  Turned out, he lived right across the hall from me, and said, "If you need anything, never hesitate to come by."

That was the beginning of a great neighborly relationship.  Around the holidays he'd always put a card or a note under my door.  For Chanukah one year he actually bought me this great mug with a menorah on it, and when you put hot water in it the candles light up!  When I went to Florida I brought him back some of my grandmother's rugelech.  When we went away on vacation we brought in each other's mail and newspapers.  We chatted downstairs where he loved to sit outside on sunny days.  One time, the elevator broke, and I helped him slowly and laboriously up 7 flights of stairs. ( It was really lucky I came home just as he was arriving too.)  He wanted to come over and chat about my trip to Germany in November, but times got busy and I said we'd sit and talk eventually when things lightened up.  Never really did.

A few weeks ago I ran into Caroline, his fiance.  When I asked how she was, she said, "I've been better.  Jim is very sick."  Pancreatic cancer.  It had already spread to his liver and I can't remember where else.  

Last night my neighbor Zack came by - he had just heard and thought I might know more.  We said we'd keep each other posted if we heard anything.

And this morning he kept up his end.  There was a note under my door telling me Jim had passed last night.  He was 62 years old.

Jolly Jim the Judge is gone.  Very sad.  I thought the least I could do was write a little about him.

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