62121088-830adbec890267c8dd2e15b721b5f5e7dc2b7552

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This turned out to be the last season of commercial fishing for Lonny K. Today Lonny lives with Flo and their children in the Pacific Northwest, far from the fishing grounds of Kodiak, Alaska. -50-
Eulogy HARVEY SILVERMAN “Optimistic.” The rabbi’s eulogy was boilerplate. The subject’s name was inserted but otherwise the comments were recited by rote with a delivery that lacked any sense of kindness, sympathy, or caring. Well, the departed had not been a member of the synagogue, the only one in the small city in which he had lived for nearly half a century. He may never have met the rabbi. What the rabbi knew of the late gentleman for whom the eulogy was being given had come from a conversation with the deceased’s older brother who similarly was not a member of the synagogue. Perhaps boilerplate was all that one could expect. The small sanctuary was filled. The seats were occupied by family, friends, acquaintances, customers. All sat quietly as the rabbi continued a description that applied to any generic dead person. When he described the departed as optimistic I could not help but figuratively shake my head and think to myself, “No, you asshole, David was a lot of things but he was not optimistic.” I was disappointed. But understandable, I supposed. Here the rabbi had to go through the required steps for somebody he did not know, somebody who had never supported his congregation or his synagogue. The rabbi was human. Perhaps he was resentful. Perhaps one could not expect even feigned compassion. David’s brother followed with his own eulogy, then a cousin, finally a nephew. Each was dull, a mere recitation of facts, humorless, hardly a celebration of the man’s life. Later that day his brother told me that had he been certain I would attend (I had flown 1500 miles to get there) he would have asked me to speak. I wish that he had. -51-
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WEST TEXAS Literary Review Issue 6,
Page 5:
Board of Editors Brandon Beck Edito
Page 8 and 9:
Lavinia Kumar Carrigaline Cemetery
Page 13 and 14: God is an Old Pear LISA BELLAMY At
Page 15 and 16: Calendar ERIC CHILES The foreman’
Page 17 and 18: Empire Diner WILLIAM DORESKI In the
Page 19 and 20: United Artists Theatre, L.A. ROBERT
Page 21 and 22: Boil CHAD FORET Uncle opens shoebox
Page 23 and 24: Blood Moon LEONORE HILDEBRANDT toni
Page 25 and 26: and, oblivious to dying, pass the w
Page 27 and 28: The Fall of Rose MERCEDES LAWRY Ros
Page 29 and 30: Scythe JAMES OWENS My father fought
Page 31 and 32: I See Her Today KENNETH POBO Leaden
Page 33 and 34: Like a Married Couple Lapsed into B
Page 35 and 36: Last Suppers PETER WALDOR Once when
Page 37 and 38: Eating Laurices BETH WILLIAMS Pope
Page 41 and 42: Spring Melons RICK KRIZMAN “Got y
Page 43 and 44: The Dress IRENE MEKLIN She twirls a
Page 45 and 46: it did her. It seemed odd, finally
Page 47 and 48: gray hair wrapped tightly against h
Page 51 and 52: West GRANT INGRAM The West. To be s
Page 53 and 54: emain much more subject to things l
Page 55 and 56: his commercial fishing rights. They
Page 57 and 58: home in a letter. And indeed it sho
Page 59: net. They were predators. He though
Page 63 and 64: his joy and vicarious pleasure when
Page 67 and 68: Author Profiles Lisa Bellamy studie
Page 69 and 70: Grant Ingram was born in San Angelo
Page 71 and 72: Review, and Southword. He earned an
Page 73: Chloe Williamson was raised on a ca
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62121088-830adbec890267c8dd2e15b721b5f5e7dc2b7552

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