MORRIS COHEN
STEVE LEVY WAS THE CLOSEST THING I HAD TO AN OLDER BROTHER. I HAVE LEARNED SINCE HIS PASSING THAT I AM DEFINITELY NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN CLAIM SUCH A CLOSE RELATIONSHIP. HIS IMPACT HAS BEEN FELT BY SO MANY PEOPLE.
Thirty five years ago, when I desperately needed a career change, Steve arranged an interview for me at the same apparel firm where he was working. The experience from that job forever changed the course of my life by providing the foundational skills I needed to navigate through the apparel industry, where I am still today. When I told people this, they had similar stories to tell me. Steve helped my cousin Cookie Grossman get her first job on Wall Street, and another friend of Steve’s related that Steve had taken him under his wing, teaching him valuable computer skills after his father had passed away. Such acts epitomize charity at its highest level. That’s just who Steve was.
To better understand him you really had to know his mother, Sarah Levy A”H. She was a true pillar of strength. Sarah, imbued her boys with our traditions, as well as other necessary survival skills, to brave through life’s ups and downs. Steve inherited her tenacity.
He exemplified resilience. I remember him in early adulthood, he was energetic and positive. He had a way of striding through life without any pretenses and always on his own terms. He had an upbeat and magnetic personality, drawing an ever wider circle of friends.
I’ve heard many refer to him as a Renaissance man. He was knowledgeable in a multitude of subjects, including cars, mechanics, gardening, how to roast a Thanksgiving turkey—you name it! He exuded a kind of a confidence that rubbed off on you.
When he met Ruthie they decided to start a new life together, and they never looked back. I remember his wedding very fondly, it was truly one of the most joyful and memorable weddings our family ever experienced together, and I was honored to be his best man.
He had a gift for making things sound so simple and logical. He knew how to boil things down to their very essence.
When I was dating Kara, Steve was the first member of my family who I introduced her to. His blessing was very important to me. Five years into our marriage, we decided to move out of the city. We somehow managed to find a home just two doors down from Steve and Ruthie, in West Deal. Although we had zero familiarity with the community, we knew that as long as Steve was nearby, he had our backs. He would remain our anchor and our guide. Eventually, our sons grew up together—like brothers—extending our bonds even further.
When Steve became ill, he would not allow such an inconvenient truth to paralyze him with fear or stop him from enjoying his life. He never lost that twinkle in his eye. During his last summer, he made sure to get to the beach every Sunday, to sit with family and friends. Even though he had his good days and bad days, any day spent at the beach meant it was a good day.
It is still unfathomable for us, to think of Steve in the past tense. I can still see him (with his Marlboro Man mustache and his sunglasses) driving his car with the top down, and walking his dog Lucy, up and down Dwight Drive. I can still hear him muttering an unfiltered comment about my choice of a tie or some other fashion attire. It goes without saying, he will be sorely missed. My life seems much emptier.
We are living in anxious and trying times—times of transition and uncertainty—times that demand faith and fortitude. Steve Levy A”H taught us the true meaning of faith. Faith is not certainty, it’s the courage to live with uncertainty. We just need to plod ahead, one day at a time, weather the storm and take the risks.
Steve was a self-made man, proud of the legacy he leaves behind: his loving children and grandchildren. I can already see in them his generosity of spirit, good humor, and his propensity for forming deep friendships.
May the memory of my dear cousin and mentor Steve Levy continue to be a blessing to Ruthie, Sarah, Rachel and Sammy, his brother Gabe, and the entire Levy family.
Morris Cohen was Steve’s best man, cousin and friend.
