Robert I. Shapiro
Catherine Ross sent messages from friends who were unable to attend the Nov. 16 memorial at the NYC Yale Club, some of which were read during the ceremony (ll/24/08):
From Kai Erickson, former Master of Trumbull College:
Older members of the family are always at a loss for words when younger members are taken away. It feels like a violation of natural law. And when the departed person has a very special place in one’s already crowded memory, as Bob does in mine, the loss of words is so utterly complete that it becomes a tribute. That is why I wish so much that I could be with you today in a gathering where feelings are what matter.
From Darryle Pollack:
Even though we were both in Trumbull College, I never really knew Bob back in our Yale days. He was one of many aspects of Yale I didn’t appreciate while I was there. Probably I was too immature to really appreciate Bob—and Yale—back then.
I did appreciate Bob by the time I got to know him a little, which was in the last year of his life. By that time, I had had cancer too. I had some insight into what Bob was going through—although I still could not begin to imagine the courage and character Bob displayed in his battle against cancer. I could only support his strength, his will, and his love and pride in his family, which sustained him throughout his struggle.
So, many years beyond our Yale days, I finally got to know Bob Shapiro. And I am honored that I had the opportunity.
From Shad Dabaghi:
. . . I am disappointed that I cannot make it to the memorial service. . . . My thoughts and prayers will be with Connie, Phil and Elana on 11/16 and with all of our classmates who will be attending the memorial service.
From Rabbi Mindy Portnoy:
How much I wish I could be with all of you on November 16th. Unfortunately, the weekends are my busiest time of work . . .
It’s still so hard to believe that Bob is gone; the last time I’d seen him was at Robbie Schneider’s daughter’s Bat Mitzvah ceremony at my Temple . . . I knew he was ill, but not to that degree. He was such a good friend to me when I was just a lowly sophomore in Trumbull.
. . .
. . . May Bob’s great smile and great soul be with us always.
From Gail Henry:
Unfortunately I have one commitment in November (other than Thanksgiving) and it’s on the 16th . A bunch of us are going to see Tina Turner in Boston that night. . . .. .
I had a lovely long talk with [Connie] just yesterday. I’m sort of the expert on widowhood, being the first in our crowd to go there, and I’d like to think I’m something of a help. Not that there’s really any help, but knowing you’re not alone is some small comfort.
I’ll be there in spirit on the 16th, and will certainly keep coming to reunions. I told Connie I expected her to come too, and she said she will. By 2011, I’m sure she’ll be in a better frame of mind.
. . . The one day I’ll really be thinking of Bob is November 4, if all goes according to plan!
Kurt Schmoke wrote to Harry Levitt (5/29/08):
Bob Shapiro’s volunteer and fundraising work on behalf of the Calvin Hill Day Care Center helped that institution become one of the premier pre-school education programs in Connecticut and, probably, in the US. The lives of countless numbers of families who never met Bob were enriched by his efforts. I recall watching him stand in the middle of the floor at the Center while a group of four year olds buzzed around him. That is a memory that will always bring a smile to my face….
Michael Goodman gave this moving eulogy at Bob’s funeral service:
This year, I have been taking a course on Jewish rituals and traditions. Last week’s class was ironically on death and mourning and included this admonition from the Shulchan Arukh, the 16th century Jewish code of laws:
“It is an important mitzvah to eulogize the deceased properly. This mitzvah requires one to raise his voice to say heartrending words that promote weeping, as well as to recall the praiseworthy attributes of the deceased. It is forbidden to exaggerate his praiseworthiness too much. Instead, we mention his good qualities and add to them a little, but we should not exaggerate. If the deceased possessed no good qualities whatsoever, then nothing should be said.”
Certainly, I have much to say about Bob — and I’ll try not to exaggerate or weep, though I can’t promise either.
It’s tough to sum up 40 years in just a few minutes.
Bob’s and my friendship had an unusual beginning. We met at a Hillel mixer early in our freshman year at Yale. We were both there to meet young women, of course —and particularly young Jewish women— but we found each other. Kismet
We had a lot in common. We were public school kids from the South, not exactly a major substratum of the Yale population. He was from Chattanooga, and I was from Savannah. And we were both raised in an Orthodox shul and knew how much of our identity was tied up in our Jewishness — hence the Hillel mixer.
Our first main point of contention and pride involved determining which of us was poorer and more deserving of our Yale scholarship. We never agreed on that point — though luckily we have become able to stop praising our poverty over the years.
And we both loved sports — though Bob had this crazy predilection for the Red Sox and Celtics—probably from some misguided years spent growing up near Boston.
I started writing about sports, and Bob began his brief but brilliant career with WYBC as a basketball broadcaster. I remember some fun road trips to cover games together. And especially that night at Columbia where he interviewed a famed Yale sports expert—me—at length during halftime. What brilliant insights we both made that night, only to discover that the station had been off the air the entire time!
Then there was that bizarre road trip to Smith where we had almost as much success meeting women as at the Hillel mixer. Tom Ericson can fill in more details of that night. Believe me, it was G-rated. Somehow, none of us had the smoothness that Howard Dean possessed for charming coeds. Of course, Bob did develop charm and a great sales pitch over time. Those helped him win Connie and recruit so many lucky investors over the years.
There were so many happy moments and wistful moments in those four years in New Haven.
I especially remember the 1968 Humphrey campaign, when two idealistic and hopeful Young Democrats sat up most of the night waiting out the election returns, only to end up with Dick Nixon. That night foreshadowed Bob’s long, active, and sometimes tortuous involvement in politics. Bob was never someone who sat passively on the sidelines. He made the calls, raised the funds, wrote the letters, made the contributions, and wore the buttons. Most of us can remember those omnipresent “Impeach Bush” buttons the last few years — he always had extras he was willing to share. Bob always knew right from wrong, right stances on the issues that mattered from wrong ones, and right political leaders from wrong ones.
What always impressed me about Bob at Yale was his ability to connect to so many people. I think I left New Haven knowing about 10 people well. Bob knew dozens. And he kept up the connections. The Class of ’71 table at the Yale Club was an outgrowth of Bob’s emphasis on networking and building new friendships as well as maintaining old ones. He and Bill Primps built a model for the University and constructed an institution whose value continues to grow.
After college, Bob and I lost our connection for a few years. I call them Bob’s California and Israel periods. He was traveling the world building his Jewish commitment and learning to sell. Bob always told me he loved those days — and it was more fun selling shoes than later raising funds and awareness with the American Jewish Congress. Meanwhile I was beginning my extended Jersey period.
I’m not positive just how we reconnected. I think Bob’s aunt in Boston was related to one of my mother’s friends in Savannah and they somehow mentioned that they knew some young guys who had gone to Yale and were both living in or near New York. That’s what we in the South call Jewish tag. In any case, we were “it,” and we found each other again. For me, it was a special reunion. I didn’t and haven’t had many close friendships in my life — and here was one re-found and refreshed.
What developed from then to today was a bond different from our college days but just as vital for both of us.
For many years our discussions on the surface didn’t sound very serious. It seemed that all we talked about were sports and politics with an occasional foray into religion. But there was an undercurrent that we both felt. If you spent part of your youth swimming at Savannah Beach, you know the importance of undercurrent. It can topple you over and pull you in with a strength and tightness that can be exhilarating — if you aren’t afraid to enjoy it. The undercurrent is what I will always remember and prize about my relationship with Bob.
Soon we had wives and then children, and the conversations now became filled with stories about sports and politics, with an occasional foray into religion. But quickly the sports part included Bob’s proud railing on about Phil’s punting and placekicking skills. And the religion part included his proud comments about Elena’s growth into a sophisticated and knowledgeable Bat Mitzvah. There was nothing humble about Bob’s pride in his family.
And the politics became not just about the Democrats vs. the hated Republicans, but about Bob’s commitment to those who were committed to the right things — leaders and potential leaders who did more than talk about what was right, because Bob did more than talk. He got angry and intense and then he directed that anger and intensity to support the causes and people he admired. And he was never shy about letting his views be known.
He dragged me back to Yale mentally and physically for reunions and he built up my interest in two institutions that he cared a lot about, the Calvin Hill Day Care Center and the Joseph Slifka Center for Jewish Life at Yale. Kids and Fairness and Jews — Bob always knew the right issues to focus his attention on.
And, unfortunately, in recent years, our conversations began to focus on health, or lack of it. First my cancer, and then Bob’s. Now we began using words like “chemo” and “diagnosis” and “prognosis” —really fun terms, and Bob would drive me crazy with his tales of lifting hundreds of pounds at the gym (at the same time, no less) and my need to improve my diet and stay healthy. He could be a fanatic and a noodge, but a sincere one.
In case you haven’t noticed, this is the heartrending part of my remarks. Bob nursed and fatootzed me through my lymphoma and even spread the word around our network of Yalies who sent along cards and emails. By the way, I still have the one from Howard Dean. I figured that one was going to be really valuable 4 years ago and I remain hopeful. I wish I could have fatootzed him better through his own travails. But I admired the way he fought and hoped and the way he kept his family in the forefront even while he endured his long battle.
But to get back to the praiseworthiness. Bob taught me, and his other friends, and his children the importance of building connections and staying connected, the importance of faith and acting upon it, the value of commitment and being open about it, the joy of working hard at a job you love and remaining true to your values while you are working. These are the things that touch lives and change lives. As Bob did for all of us.
He was my first friend at Yale 40 years ago — and my only successful connection at a mixer. And as I watched the Celtics pull out a win last night that Bob would have enjoyed thoroughly, I thought about our pickup basketball games and his often misguided jumpshot and my terrible passes, and that brilliant interview that only we heard, and the other conversations spoken and unspoken. And his so many praiseworthy attributes.
Written with love and sadness for my friend, Bob Shapiro,
May 29, 2008
—Michael Goodman
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With appreciation from Connie, Phil and Elana Shapiro
Dear Members of the Yale Class of ’71,
Thank you so much for making the Robert Shapiro Memorial Service happen. It was so uplifting to see so many of Bob’s friends gathered together to reminisce about the times they shared, his special qualities and his contributions. The afternoon was a lovely tribute to Bob. The children and I, his parents, sisters and their families will remember that afternoon for a long time to come. I am so proud of Bob, and I draw so much comfort from the knowledge that he touched so many who appreciated him for the wonderful person that he was. We look forward to continuing our connections with our ‘Yale family,’ and consider all of you another of the many gifts we have from Bob. With deep appreciation, Connie, Phil and Elana Shapiro
Catherine Ross spoke at Bob’s memorial service:
Remembering Bob Shapiro
Comments by Catherine Ross
The first thing I remember about Bob after I met him in Trumbull is his voice coming into the room from WYBC. It was a wonderful voice — in tone, excitement and passion. Not a sports fan, having seen one basketball game in my life, I came to look forward to Bob’s broadcasts for their sheer energy and learned something about the game from him which saved me from complete embarrassment in later years with my teenage son.
Bob’s voice and his sense of humor never changed, but other things did. Bob really blossomed after Yale.
We kept in touch in NY. I had not realized in Trumbull how widespread Bob’s networks were. In NY Bob became a literal networker — the roots of his contacts and his meticulous nourishing of them kept many of us together and helped forge new friendships. It was not just the class table. Bob was always thinking about which people might like each other, or help each other. In our very last conversation about two or three weeks before the end of his life, Bob brought up someone he said I simply had to meet, we would enjoy each other so much. And he was generous in his thoughtfulness. Last March, just after my husband published a book, he made sure his sister purchased a copy for the Baltimore library, and that the brother of Tom Erickson — Bob’s college roommate — made it to the Atlanta book party. He was a thoughtful observer of other people, and understood every individual’s key interests which is why his “matchmaking” in the broadest sense worked so well. I can’t remember him ever getting it wrong.
Bob, who was not active in what we labeled “politics” during college, became an ardent activist in recent years. Who can forget Bob’s proud display of his button calling for the impeachment of President Bush, or his generosity in sharing his buttons with anyone who promised to wear them. He wore his button everywhere — to our last reunion, and here in the Yale Club.
More important, as with everything he undertook, Bob got involved and connected people to each other. On learning that I was working with a grassroots organization in Westchester two years ago to end the war and help elect Democrats to Congress, Bob set up a meeting with Jim Dean — Howard’s brother and founder of Democracy for America. The three of us met in the second floor lounge of this building and I got some wonderful ideas and leads to other nearby groups. Bob and Jim became friends because when Bob sent a check he also started conversations — he and Jim were emailing or talking at least weekly. So too Bob became a leader among Jewish Democrats — he was one of the first members of the National Jewish Democratic Council to see that Obama would be a friend to Israel.
Most important of all of course: Connie, Phil and Elana. As others have said, he adored all three of them and was extremely proud of his children. But I want to focus for a moment on Connie. Theirs was not only a great marriage, but one that elevated Bob — first, she clearly elevated his spirits. Connie also helped Bob reach new heights. And as I got to know Connie, my own opinion of Bob — already high — also went up. Bob convinced a great woman to marry him, and showed great judgment in choosing her. I have gotten to know Connie much better during 2008 — and am constantly amazed by her strength, her wisdom and her intelligent humor. All of Bob’s friends surely join me in thanking him for bringing her into our lives.
Bob was genuinely modest, so much so that sometimes I thought he must be teasing me. In contrast to all he did for others, on the rare occasion when Bob needed a favor, he was painfully reticent to ask, and overboard in the thanks that followed. It was one reason why it was hard for many of us who cared about him to do as much as we wanted for him during the years he so bravely and stubbornly fought for his life.
Bob’s life WAS a blessing to all of us. May his memory continue to be a blessing to all who miss him, especially to the many members of his family who have joined us here today
Connie Shapiro spoke at the Yale Class of ’71 Memorial Luncheon on 11/16/2008:
It was just 21 years ago, almost to the day, that Bob brought me to this very room and presented me with my engagement ring. Over the prior thirteen months, while we dated, his ties to Yale and the people he had met there were intricately woven in to our courtship. I met Stuart Klawans, who thankfully advised Bob to see me more often, and Tom and Leslie Erikson who had us to their home and introduced me to their lovely children. I spent a freezing afternoon with Michael and Audrey Goodman at a disappointing Yale vs. Harvard Game, etc.
I met Bob in the Fall of 1986, some fifteen years after he had graduated from Yale. As Bob and I got to know one another, I learned that his years at Yale had not been particularly happy ones for him. He felt out of place there as a Jew from the South, a young man with so much potential but not a clue what he wanted to do with his life. At the time, I remember realizing that my introductions to these particular people and places were not incidental occurrences. At a school where he had felt out of place, Bob had managed to forge very strong ties.
Bob knew that Yale and his Yale friends were very important to him and that they would take on an ever increasing significance in his life. He had proposed to me a few weeks earlier, in my apartment, while I was brushing my teeth…not a very romantic story. The market had recently crashed, and he would later say that the seeming uncertainty of the times heightened his awareness that you had to live life and take chances. Euphoric and anxious to tell our families and close friends the good news that we had all been anticipating, I remarked that we should call our parents. Bob queried “Tell people? Why does anyone need to know?” After a short run together in the park, I am pleased to say that Bob calmed down, and was looking forward to spreading word of our betrothal. Now totally committed to getting married within the next few months, he bought me a beautiful engagement ring and told me that he would particularly like to present it to me at the Yale Club. This was a very meaningful, emotional place for him, even before he and Bill Primps had begun the Class Table. It was my introduction to this Club, which Bob loved and came to so many times over the ensuing years for the Class Table, business lunches, an occasional Thanksgiving dinner, and more. Our children, Phil and Elana, came here and to the campus many times. Bob was so proud to show off his two best accomplishments, and so delighted to show the children all that he associated with Yale. It is very fitting that this Memorial Luncheon be held here, and in this very room, with each and every one of you present, a place which evoked for Bob his deep connections to Yale, his classmates, the Calvin Hill Day Care Center and Slifka Center. I am grateful that I passed muster with his friends, and they became my friends. We have received so much support from you, particularly during these past several months since his passing.
During the ten years that followed Bob’s graduation from Yale, he searched for his calling, going to graduate school at Stanford, selling shoes in San Francisco, traveling to Israel to learn Hebrew as he contemplated making a home there, working in non profit for the American Jewish Congress in Manhattan, and all the while, he liked to tell me, and I liked to hear, he was looking for me. In 1981, Bob decided that he wanted to try his hand as a stock broker. He already knew he was a good salesman, like his Dad. He enjoyed the contact with clients, and he could use and challenge his great intellect. He was very satisified with his career choice. He had found his niche, and he loved it. However, his profession did not carry the emotional ties for him that Yale did. It was through Yale that he developed so many of his interests. Yale was part of his life, his interests and his passions. He delighted in all that he did…taking his family to the reunions, developing the Class Table of ’71 and kibitzing at the luncheons throughout the years, adding news to the Class notes, fundraising for the Calvin Hill Day Care Center, and suppporting the Slifka Center. He was very proud to have been named AYA Representative.
On behalf of Phil, Elana, myself, Bob’s parent’s Millie and Harold Shapiro, his sisters Linda and Nancy, their husbands Don and David, our niece and nephews, I would like to thank you for honoring Bob today. In particular, Catherine Ross for putting this Memorial together and Bill Primps for m’c’ing. Stuart Klawans, Harry Leavitt, Robbie Quinn, Priscilla Lundin, Andy Sherman, Jim Kaplan, Carla Horowitz and others have put a lot of time and effort in to making this Memorial happen. I would also like to say a word of thanks to the staff of the Yale Club, whose professionalism and kindness Bob spoke of often.
I told Catherine Ross that I was anticipating this afternoon with some anxiety. A Memorial brings up so many feelings at once, it can be painful and overwhelming. I am nonetheless so touched and thankful that you did this for us and for Bob. It is a memory that we will treasure in the years going forward, as we continue our lives and think of Bob and all that he taught us.
Connie Shapiro
IN MEMORY OF MY FRIEND BOB SHAPIRO
Yale Club of New York City — November 16, 2008
Bob Shapiro and I first crossed paths in the spring of 1968, when we served together on WYBC. I didn’t get to know him then, though, since we passed like ships in the bustling corridors of Hendrie Hall. Bob was an AM jock who specialized in sports — and always had that great sportscaster voice. I was strictly an FM jock, and as you can hear have the FM radio voice “WYBC-FM, 94.3 in New Haven”. Those were the two distinct subcultures of “Wibbic” in those days.
More than 30 years later, shortly after September 11, 2001, I got a note from Bob inviting all New York based ’71-ers to a lunch meeting here at the Yale Club. At the time, I rarely came here, and was not a member. But over the next couple of years, I became a regular at these lunches. I got caught up with old friends, and made new ones.
I thank Bob for opening this window on my past life. In fact, Bob deserves all of our thanks, since as a by-product of his ongoing campaign to reunite our class, we now have a vibrant new web site (www.yale71.org). At those lunches I met Katherine Hyde and Rick Cech, and with the support of Secretary Harry Levitt and Treasurer Andy Sherman, we formed the team that makes this happen.
By mid-decade, Bob and I were meeting for lunch a couple of times a year outside of the Class lunches. Then I finally got to know him. As those of you equally fortunate know, Bob was above all a man of principle and conviction. Though he talked about liberal politics, I believe it was really the human condition that most concerned him — its challenges and inequities, and how to improve it. Bob cared deeply about people less fortunate than himself, and was instrumental in charitable projects undertaken by our class. He would have been especially joyous at the new direction our country is taking.
Lastly, but foremost, Bob cared deeply about his family. His and Connie’s kids are a little younger than mine, and he would proudly recount their latest triumphs and challenges. I’m lucky that I finally got to meet them at our most recent Class reunion. It shows the kind of guy Bob was that he never failed to inquire how my kids were doing.
Like many of us who “prepped” at public schools, Bob approached Yale as an outsider invited suddenly into the party. Of course, Bob had the additional distinction of being an observant Jew. I especially enjoyed his stories of growing up Jewish in Chattanooga, and about his reactions to being at Yale.
I benefitted from every conversation I had with Bob. Though there will be no more of them, the ones we did have will stay with me — his humor, his conviction — and that great radio voice.
I’ll have a piece of Bob Shapiro with me forever.
Tim Powell