Page 18 - Boca ViewPointe - August '24

Page 18, Viewpointe August 2024
Changes In The Road Through Life

By Robert W. Goldfarb to box. Most everyone assessing me laughed, but a man as it was, living at home, working at a job that thinned
standing at the edge of the ring said, “The kid’s tall; the air and going to school. Belief would suffocate in a
Street fighting was the local sport in the neighborhood maybe he’s worth the time.” The man who spoke told me life like that.
in which I grew up nearly eighty years ago. My friends to throw punches. Within seconds he said, “Your right is I enlisted in the Army the very next day. The war had
carried menace to the vocational schools they tolerated nothing, but your long left jab will hurt shorter boxers.” ended just five years earlier and there was still something
until they were old enough to work. Students I met at the I never knocked anyone down, but a year spent hitting noble in soldiering. The men who trained and later led
academic high school I attended avoided fights the way bags and opponents softened fear’s bite and made hope me had jumped into Normandy. A simple gesture by one
I did. The classroom was their arena and in it I was as a possibility. of them flooded me with belief in myself. My sergeant
inept as I was on the streets. In both worlds I ranked high Academics came more slowly, especially in what gripped my shoulder and said, “Goldfarb, you’ve become
in uncertainty, low in virtually everything else. today are called STEM subjects. But, I could write and one of us.” My history teacher was right. If there was
I was surprised when a history teacher asked me to was told to submit articles to the school newspaper James something worth admiring in me it would appear in an
remain after class. He had just returned from military Baldwin had once written for. I stopped daydreaming in unexpected place.
service and said watching me reminded him of soldiers class, read the assignments, pored over homework and Within weeks of returning from the Korean War, I
who were scorned in training, but admired in combat. He had answers that seemed to surprise teachers. Soon, the took the first steps on a path I didn’t know existed. I met
said I was probably stronger and smarter than I thought. smartest students began asking me to review their essays. the woman who soon became my wife. I was accepted
That was the only time we spoke and it occurred to me he It was as though someone more self-assured had taken to Columbia University, thanks to the G.I. Bill. Within a
might have been one of those soldiers. I certainly didn’t my seat. year, Muriel and I married. At 23, I was no longer alone
feel strong or smart, but here was a war veteran who Always lurking was the fear the first challenge in on the path the two of us would travel together for our
seemed to understand the fear and hope I tried to keep class or on the street would reveal the change in me was lifetimes. That path glowed with possibilities we seized.
secret. If there was something in me to admire, I would superficial and fleeting. As I lay awake before sleeping, How different the journey was now that two of us walked
have to find it. I often asked myself if anyone cared enough about me it as though in embrace. The path I followed as a boy
I went to the Bronx gym where Jake LaMotta, the to help me be the person I was hoping to become. I soon felt like an escape; the path Muriel and I were on was an
world middleweight champion, trained. I said I’d run realized there was no one. adventure that lasted for nearly seventy years.
errands and clean the place if someone could teach me My parents insisted I attend a vocational high school All that changed when Muriel died suddenly and
so I could quickly find a job and help pay the rent. It unexpectedly. I was now alone again. But this time
wasn’t safe to talk about aspirations with boys in the I was nearly ninety years old. Escaping those streets
On behalf of neighborhood. You were born in a tenement on these demanded the best of both my mind and my body. Their
The Club at Boca streets and would probably die in one. Thoughts of power began to fray as I pushed deeper into my nineties.
Pointe we would leaving showed disrespect for those who remained behind. Without Muriel alongside me, my belief in myself had
like to remind our Classmates were exploring their own aspirations and had been pelted with doubts.
residents that NO little time to reflect on mine. I had only myself to turn to. The boy I was pushed aside his doubts and the man he
walking, running, Looking back, I wonder what led me to believe I had became will push aside his. I will not disappoint the boy.
bicycle riding or something to say worth listening to. It must have been He was alone. I am not. Unlike him, I have others to count
dog walking is that I had no choice but to believe in myself. I felt so on. My children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren
permitted on the alone, so without a path that would take me from places caress my soul with their love and acts of kindness. They
where dreams die. Whenever I found it, that belief often
will be alongside me on the journey the boy began so
golf course or golf cart flickered like a weak light. I kept thinking “no” rather long ago.
paths. For safety reasons, the paths are than “yes” when I felt the birth of an idea.
for golf carts only. I tried telling myself to ignore uncertainty and begin Bob’s articles have appeared in The New York Times,
taking risks. When I graduated from high school I was The San Francisco Chronicle and in Next Avenue, the
Thank you for cooperating with The offered a job at a department store that would release me publication of the Public Broadcasting Service. His
Club's policy.  early enough to attend evening classes at one of the free book, “What’s Stopping Me From Getting Ahead?” was
New York City colleges. My life would remain essentially published by McGraw Hill and is in five languages. 