Memories

What I admire most about my father was the way in which he saw the world. My father loved to make us laugh. He could make a joke out of anything. My favorite story about my dad that I always tell is about when he was going into a restaurant without us to reserve a table. He was standing next to a 70 or 80-year-old woman and a waitress, seeing the pair, asked him, “are you two together?”. My father, being the whimsical man that he was, responded “not yet”. Though he regretted his actions deeply, he immediately told us about his unfortunate joke, because he cared more about making us laugh than his own dignity. — Jacob (David’s son)

My father was the funniest man I have ever known. He often boasted that his greatest accomplishment was making me laugh so hard during dinner once that I literally threw up the chili I was eating. I have always despised that story, but telling it is the only way to truly articulate how funny he was. His sense of humor was extremely eclectic, and ranged from exceedingly dry and witty to disgustingly vulgar depending on his mood and audience. — Maya (David’s daughter)

David and I spent a lot of time (every weekend) watching movies in Westwood Village. When we were teenagers – maybe 15 years old, we decided to see a movie called “Casual Sex”. Other than the name of the movie, I am not sure why it was rated “R” In any case, we went to see the movie believing we could talk our way into the movie the way we did many times before. However – this particular teenage ticket agent was having none of our sweet talk this afternoon day. We were basically told to kick rocks! For some reason we decided to walk up some steps on the side of the building where the the the exterior walls were made of glass. I don’t recall having any sort of plan or reason to do so – just two silly kids being silly. Then – an elderly lady walking to the bathroom saw us standing outside with our cute puppy dog eyes and opened the side door (no alarm went off) and let us in. WE thanked her and immediately ran to the bathroom where we hysterically broke into devious laughter. This was the first and only time I (suspect David as well) ever snuck into a movie. Unfortunately, I don’t think we enjoyed the movie. I barely remember it, but I will always cherish the memory of the two of us giggling in the movie theater bathroom. — John Howard (David’s friend)

I remember that on the day of Sam and David's wedding, David sent Sam a floral arrangement to the suite at the Ritz Carlton, where we were all getting ready. It was already an insane day, so the fact that he was thoughtful enough to do something like that really made me think, "That is one awesome guy!" — Kaarin Michaelsen (David’s friend)

In the close-knit world of the Boston legal community, David and Samantha were a well-known and beloved couple. David was a brilliant, earnest attorney who raised the level of intellectual discourse in the room. He also made sure to give us a full report of Maya's and Jacob's activities at every encounter, and shared wonderful and hilarious stories of family antics. David loved the practice of law, but he loved nothing more than his family. He was a warm and kind soul, generous and compassionate. If every lawyer was like David, our world would be a much better place. — Sarah Worley (David’s friend)

The summer David turned 16 and had just gotten his driver’s license, I asked him to come and pick me up as my car broke down. He was there ready to help after every other member of my family was not willing to help me. I’m sure they had reasonable excuses, but the point is that David, the most inexperienced driver in the family was the one there for me. That’s how I remember him, always there for me. — Karen (David’s sister)

David loved to spend time with his family, and lucky for me that included his sisters with their families and our dad. During the pandemic, since we were all spending substantial time at home we decided to do virtual calls every Sunday night. We did these calls from wherever we were, and I am grateful for that extra time we spent together. David rarely missed any of our virtual meetings, even when he was not feeling well. David and I both loved to travel and we managed to meet up on many vacations, including, Paris, San Francisco, Costa Maya and Mexico City. David was always willing to drive far and do whatever it took to spend time with me and my family. One time I went to Boston for an afternoon, and he spent the time with us, and researched activities he thought my family would enjoy. He always worried about entertaining us and making sure we all had a good time. The truth is that for me, all I needed to have a good time was just being with David and his family. — Liz Blum (David’s sister)

Dave and I worked for Gadsby & Hannah and then McCarter & English for many years together -- our offices were probably 200 feet from one another. Dave was the smartest person I knew in the firm and the best writer. Whenever I had a complex litigation project that required a deep dive into arcane research and/or a review and analysis of complex facts, I called him. It didn't matter the subject, he mastered it quickly. And the end product was a beautifully crafted brief that sung. Like a Stephen Sondheim show.

Speaking of Sondheim, anytime a big matter came our way, I loved going into the woods with Dave. We explored ideas together, argued about the approach, and figured out how to explain it to both the client and the tribunal. He was patient and thoughtful with all the clients -- taking suggestions -- both inane and insightful -- and incorporating them when appropriate. He handled pressure like the pro he was.

One of our most memorable matters was a case involving obscure statutes, regs and crazy facts involving the Postal Regulatory Commission. (I bet you didn't even know that existed). We took a "Hail Mary" argument to the D.C. Federal Circuit Court of Appeals (next to the U.S. Supreme Court, the most significant court in the U.S.), and when it was time for oral argument, even though it was my client and I played a significant role in the case and I was the so-called partner-in-charge and over 10 years his senior, there was no question who would do it. It was Dave. He wrote the brief, conceived, and polished the ideas, and ultimately convinced the appellate court, against all odds, to rule in our client's favor.

Dave and I were in the trenches for many years together. What I remember most was the quiet, almost serene, way in which we conversed about all issues work-related and personal. I loved him and respected him so much because of his humility, his openness, his ability to really listen. I loved and respected him because he could see bullsh#t and pretentiousness and phoniness from a mile away -- whether it was from a prospective client or a colleague -- and wasn't afraid to say it out loud.

Dave and I had quite different political views, but shared a love of ideas, an appreciation of the arts, and a true desire to help people in need. He was a good man and a great man -- and I will miss him.

In addition to my legal career, I did a lot of so-called community theater. Dave would often come to see me in those productions. After I retired last September, he continued coming to see me in shows. The last one was Into the Woods. He only was able to make it to the first half – the one with the unambiguous happy ending. The second act ends in a muddled way – like real life. There is death and suffering and sacrifice – but there is new life and hope and promise of the future. I see the latter in Dave’s extraordinary children. Their eulogies were a glimpse of the wit, character, smarts and strength their parents gave them. Blessings to Sam, Maya and Jacob.

Here’s some of the words of the finale Dave never got to hear:

So it's Into the woods

You go again,

You have to

Every now and then.

Into the woods,

No telling when,

Be ready for the journey.

Into the woods,

But not too fast

Or what you wish

You lose at last.

. . .

The chances look small,

The choices look grim,

But everything you learn there

Will help when you return there.

. . .

Into the woods-

You have to grope,

But that's the way

You learn to cope.

Into the woods

To find there's hope

Of getting through the journey.

Into the woods-

Each time you go,

There's more to learn

Of what you know.

. . .

To mind,

To heed,

To find,

To think,

To teach,

To join,

To go to the Festival!

Into the woods,

Into the woods,

Into the woods,

Then out of the woods

And happy ever after!

(I wish...) — Dan Kelly (David’s friend)

Today, August 12, 2023 would have been David’s 50th birthday. Today is a sad day but also a day to celebrate his greatness. I’m trying to incorporate everything I know he liked today. I’m wearing my Harvard T-shirt. Thinking of all the foods he liked. He was a fan of tres leches cake, Mexican candy(mazapán, his final request was to eat pulporinos). I even listened to a song he loved by Shaggy, “It wasn’t me.” I really hope others put their own memories today on this special day. Reading memories about David really helps all of us that are struggling today. — Karen Himelfarb (David’s sister)

I have known David since he was 13 years old. I was always impressed that at such a young age he always had a plan and his plans were on point and well thought out. When David decided that he wanted to go to Stanford he came out with a plan to save money so he could afford to go by, taking AP exams, and getting it done in 3 years. David knew what he wanted out of life early on and knew how to get it. I always admired this about him. I use David as an example when I teach college courses in psychology to show my students that when there is a will there is a way. David found the balance of hard work and enjoying life and his life should be held as an example for others to follow. He will be missed. — Jeff Blum (David’s brother-in-law)

When we moved from Mexico to California around 1977 David’s sisters, Liz and Karen were attending American schools in Mexico and studying English. David was too young to attend school at that time so he didn’t get to learn English. When we arrived in the United States David attended preschool at Temple Emanuel of Beverly Hills. For the first 3-4 months David sat in the back of the room and didn’t participate in class. Then suddenly he participated actively speaking English fluently. The teachers never realized that English was not his native language. A few years later we were living in a townhouse in West Wood and David was playing and making a lot of noise while I was working. I asked David several times to keep it down but he didn’t listen and I got very upset with him and was going to punish him. It took me a few minutes to get a hold of him and when I finally did he said to me, Dad, “before you punish me I want to tell you….” At that point I started laughing and forgot about the punishment. At that day I knew he would be an attorney. — Isaac Himelfarb (David’s father)

When I was a young kid David and Samantha used to occasionally spend the day with me. We would go to different spots around LA. One time they took me out to lunch and ordered me french fries. I had never had fries before because my Mom was super health-conscious. After taking my first bite I told David that these were the best things I ever had. I asked David what they were called. David was afraid it would upset my Mom if it got back to her that he had let me have fries. He came up with a genius idea. He told me they were called “carrots”. That way if I mentioned what I had eaten my Mom wouldn’t suspect anything. A little while later I had begged my Mom to make me “carrots” for dinner. She happily obliged thinking her attention to health was beginning to rub off on me. When I took my first bite I told my Mom that these were definitely not “carrots”. My Mom pieced together what had happened. The jig was up. — Andrew Hirsch (David’s nephew)

We see David in everything that’s beautiful especially today! His memory is a beautiful light, that I’m sure will keep on shining on all of us who loved him so much — Leon and Maty Salsberg (David’s uncle and aunt)

My first memory of David is spending time with him at the JCC in Mexico City. I must have been 7 or 8 years old, and David was probably visiting our grandparents, Zedie Morris and Bobe Eva, after he graduated from high school for his summer break before he went to college. The JCC was a special place for our Zeide and Bobe. They used to go there every morning for more than 50 years. Our Zedie would work out and shower there, while our Bobe would read a book by the umbrellas next to the pool. After their mornings at the JCC, they would go to have lunch at Vips, a cafeteria-type restaurant, unless it was on a Saturday when the family would get together for sushi or go out for Italian. So, it's not surprising that if David was visiting them, we met each other at the JCC and probably had lunch with them at Vips afterwards. I don't remember much about the visit, but I do have clear memories of David and me playing basketball at the JCC. He showed me how to defend against taller players; he said he was never the tallest in school, but he knew how to distract and always kept his hands up to block the shot. He also showed me how to be a better shooter by emphasizing the follow-through in my shot. I'm sure that if we were to ask him today, he probably wouldn't remember that summer morning in Mexico City. However, it's one of my core memories of David, one that has stayed with me since then because it involves three of the kindest and most generous people: our grandparents and Dave. — Ari Gorodzinsky (David’s cousin)

Not thinking of a specific memory today, but I wanted to post something because I am thinking of David, who was a dear friend. David and I probably laid eyes on each other once or twice in the past 20 years, but we kept in touch in other ways. I always thought that someday we would have a chance to renew our friendship, and I miss him terribly. — Judd Serotta (David’s friend)

I have so many memories of David that picking one is very hard. But one of my favorite David stories shows how he was always trying to fix things for me. David and I ended up at the same firm when we moved to Boston, but we had very different experiences there. I worked for a person who could only be described as abusive. David could not stand me working for him. He told me over and over again to quit. But I was afraid I would not be able to find a good job if I did not stay a few years and I had a lot of loans from law school. One night, I was forced to work all night. I asked David to bring me clothes for the next day. He brought the clothes and told me again to quit. I said I would think about it. He went back to his office, and returned a few hours later. He said, "you can quit now, I paid off all your loans." He paid off all my loans way before his, so I would not feel tied to the job because of my debt. — Samantha Halem (David’s wife)

I remember growing up half in your house, David always playing with us. He would come in and made sure we brushed our teeth, picked out clothes, and read us book and played dolls with us. I also have a vivid memory of sitting with David watching Jacob play basketball at the Y. Sitting on the couch during one of the jewish holidays sick while David set up Rio for me on the TV. All such simple things that reflect how caring and compassionate David was. — Anna Singer (David’s cousin)

My fazvorite times with David were when I got him alone and could really talk. Something about his personality really matched with mine: we both have advanced degrees in bad (and often wildly inappropriate) humor. There weren't all that many people who "got" him, if you know what I mean, and the reverse is also true. Often we would be talking about our kids or families--he was an immensely proud family man--and yet in the middle of a sentence we would find outselves rolling with some fullblown cards-against-humanity level joke, only to return the next moment to talking about diaper changes. Yes, I remember his intellect--having worked with him (and gotten help from him) he was one of the smartest people I knew, which is saying a lot. He was always great to be around.But what I miss most is how damn funny he was. — Erik Hammarlund (David’s friend)

More memories will be added to the website as they come in.