- 60 years old
- Date of birth: Jul 13, 1955
- Place of birth:
- Date of passing: Nov 5, 2015
- Place of passing:
Corvallis, Oregon, United States
This memorial website was created for sharing memories of Ehud Havazelet. Those wishing to contact the family directly may do so at firstname.lastname@example.org.
The family suggests those wishing to remember Ehud consider making a contribution to one of the many causes he held dear – the arts, humanitarian relief, and human rights – or simply think of him as they watch a movie, read a book, listen to music, or enjoy a good red wine.
Video of the memorial held at the University of Oregon, March 12, 2016: http://media.uoregon.edu/channel/archives/10733
Slideshow of photos of Ehud:
"It was rare that I heard Ehud tell a story that went nowhere. There is one though that he told more than once. It is the story of how Coby was almost born on Ehud's own birthday. "It was pretty cool because we had a sense...and then Molly found out the due date...and I had high hopes that..." His face energized, lit, same as when he told his "I got to play with..." jazz story. But unlike the other, this story goes nowhere, as we know. Coby, you were not born on your dad's birthday. Ehud--as far as I know--wasn't one for symbolism, but apparently cool with even prospective symbolism if an underscore of connection with his sons."
"I'm not sure what Ehud liked better- celebrating his birthday or celebrating everyone else's. I have never known a more joyful gift giver. Several years ago the adults decided maybe it was time to discontinue Hanuka gifts to the adults and just focus on the kids. Ehud's response "You can do what you want, but I'm buying you guys gifts." Needless to say he is the gift that keeps on giving.. and yes, we still buy gifts for everyone- including the adults."
"Dear Molly, Michael, and Coby--Ehud told us in seminar that one of Malamud's best, most tender lines is buried in one of his lesser stories. Maybe the line is famous in your home. If not, I want to offer it, a self-consciously farfetched encouragement, something I hear as if direct from your husband and father: "Be uphearted, not down." I remember Ehud saying something like, "That's love from someone who knows suffering is not just possible, it's inevitable. This is there even in the syntax. What the character knows, then, is what sustains us. Love, connection, encouragement." I send love to each of you."
"I knew Ehud as one of my writing tutors during my time in Oregon, 1993-95, and remember him as a man of generosity, insight and precision in his work (and who demanded precision from me, for which I thank him). I have thought of him from time to time over the years, wondered how he was getting on, and was again reminded of him recently by a friend from those years who considered him the best of the fiction teachers at U of O. Just a few weeks ago, his book "Bearing the Body" arrived in the mail. Hearing of his passing just now was a coincidence and a shock; the world has lost a good man."
"My Uncle Ehud was a very loving and interesting man. I appreciated and admired his love for literature and films. Uncle Ehud and I shared an interest in the human condition. Almost every time I got to see the Brown/Havazelet family, regardless of the occasion, I'd always end up at a movie theater. Uncle Ehud and Coby would always rate the trailers by giving them a thumbs up, down, or in the middle. I thought this was very cute considering I'm very quick to judge things and sometimes trailers don't really encapsulate the essence of a movie because they're too short. I read The Great Gatsby this year for school and loved it. I told Uncle Ehud that I loved "The Great American Novel" and he brought up an interesting point about how the reader doesn't know much about Nick Carraway, the narrator. That was definitely something for me to think about... I think there's a good quote from the Buddhist belief called Ponga that truly described Ehud Havazelet: "Don't forget to shed your illusions about how the world works and your self-imposed limitations." Thanks Uncle Ehud for showing me and everyone in YOUR life that resilience is an essential weapon for combating illness and life challenges in general. Gratitude reciprocates and I'm always grateful to have been your niece."
"On this eve of Thanksgiving, I am thankful that Ehud was a part of my life. For some magical years in the mid- to late seventies we explored Europe--from the caves of Matala to the remote islands of the Hebrides--with our friend Tim, and pioneered loft living in downtown NYC with Tim, Greg, Leora, and Eliza. And I remember many nights at Le Bistro in Edinburgh and Canon's in NYC listening to him play guitar and sing his songs (he was as gifted a songwriter as he was a writer). I am most grateful that he remained a lifelong friend and was in recent years my email correspondent, book guru, and dear friend. I send my deepest condolences to Molly, Coby, Michael, Leora, Tali, Rutie and all who loved him."
"Ehud was a life-changing mentor and teacher who taught me more about writing than anyone else before or since. The fact that he believed in me made me believe in myself, and still does. I still can't believe he's gone. I cherish all the time I had with him, and count myself so lucky to have been an advisee of his at the U of O. I will miss his keen insight into the craft of writing, his expert ability to diagnose exactly where a story has gone off track, his invaluable suggestions as to how to make a piece cut deeper and say something authentic and surprising about the human condition. I will also dearly miss his friendship, which was, from the beginning, unwavering."
"Molly...I just heard this sad news today and am sending love to you and Coby. Ehud was a wonderful teacher and writer and will be missed by so many. You and Coby brought him to the place Raymond Carver described when asked if he got what he'd wanted...Ehud was certainly a man who could call himself beloved in this world.
...from San Diego.
Molly Larson Cook"
"We first met at Camp Massad Gimmel at the age of eleven and Ehud thought that I was older because I was in an older division. This became a life long joke because we were exactly a month apart and he was the older of the two of us. It is hard to believe that at age eleven, he could have had such an enormous impact on my life. We maintained contact through our teens and into our mid-twenties, navigating the angst of youth and adolescence. He played guitar then, his first big song was the Beach Boys' Sloop John b, which made him cringe when reminded of that.. He progressed to far better songs and I loved listening to him play. We started sending each other birthday greetings every July and August for the past several years. We would catch up on our years and it was one of my favorite birthday moments reading his messages. Lately, when I knew he wasn't well, I texted him on October 28th, just checking in to see how he was doing. He thanked me for thinking of him. I am only grateful that we re-established a connection in our adult years and that he knew that I was thinking of him. When I look at the picture that you posted of him standing against the backdrop of nature, I smile. That is how I also see him, alas, years younger, longer hair, against the beauty of nature in a tee shirt and shorts. I am so deeply sorry for your loss. He has always been and will remain in my thoughts and heart,always."
"I remember meeting Ehud when we first moved to Corvallis. He invited us to his 50th birthday celebration. He seemed so very happy with friends and family around him, and a beer in his hand. He was such a warm and inviting person, and so kind to us. I am sorry that I did not get to know him better over the years, but I will always think kindly of him. And for sure, the next time I hear a Grateful Dead song, I will think of Ehud with a smile."
"So many memories come rushing in...We were closer than brothers once upon a time. Leora, Tali, Rutie & Meir -- how many Shabbatot & weekends did I spend at your house? We were inseparable... until our lives took different paths.
Everyone is memorializing (rightly so) the writer...I remember the laughs most of all...And the long talks through the night about love, lovers and the meaning of life...And yes, there were books, as well as the NY Yankees, Bette Davis vs Katherine Hepburn, terrible foreign films, Blimpie's tuna subs ('cause we were all kosher then!) plus sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.
I will miss him and always cherish our the time we spent together."
"Each time I would visit Ehud, we would inevitably spend entire afternoons in used book stores. My joy of this activity came from his pleasure at sharing. He would recommend books for me and I would travel home with a minimum of 10-15 books. I still have the back pack Molly had to lend me to carry back all my "prizes.""
"truth be told -- he read even later into the night when the timer "accidentally" turned the light back on."
"We used to go hear Ehud play guitar at Cannon’s bar on the Upper West Side in college. He did covers and some originals including his biggest hit ”Babe it’s just a matter of time”
Before you got me lovin’ you
You seem to stay on my mind
My Baby you know it
You sure know how to show your love to me….. guitar riff."
"Growing up in Brooklyn and Queens, every Friday afternoon Ehud went to the library and arrived home with a minimum of 5 books he planned to read that Shabbos. He laid them out in front of him on the floor perusing-his newfound riches (like an heiress admiring her jewels). I believe he read all until the Shabbos clock ( timer) turned off the light over the couch or armchair (he always claimed the best spot) in the living room."
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