Although we didn’t talk long- I can remember how excited Barry was becoming a father- he was beaming with excitement. He kept going back and forth to the nursery to check on the babies- Joy like that cannot be put into words.

I just wanted to share this because his children should always know that it was obvious that was the happiest day of his life, the day his babies were born.

May Hashem bless you all and keep you safe and may you be reunited with your Father/husband now with the coming of Moshiach. Amen!

Bonnie Polansky

I believe it was a Thanksgiving weekend and Barry, my brother Adam, sister Naomi and I decided to go out to the movies after Shabbos. While getting ready my brother found the spray on hair and thought, hey, lets see if I can spray on a beard and mustache with this. Now the four of us had been together all Shabbos at Barry’s house, and had spent much of that time with his parents, so everyone should have noticed that Adam was clean shaven.

So, we pull up to Barry’s house, trying very hard to control all of the giggling that had started at our house when Adam first started spraying the hair on. We go in, and Barry is trying to rush us out, but we wanted to spend a little more time to see if anyone noticed. Adam is talking to Mr. and Mrs. Shuter about who knows what, and Barry is sitting on the arm of the couch eagerly awaiting our leaving. Then, Barry’s loud laugh starts and he is pointing straight at Adam to the point where he can’t even breath. Both Mr. & Mrs. Shuter ask Barry what is wrong and Barry (and this is the part that has stuck with me 20 odd years later) just falls off the couch laughing so hard, trying to get out the words that Adam now has a beard.

To this day I can not believe that my brother was able to keep it together to do this but he did, and it is one of the many memories I have of Barry that makes me smile.

Oh, and I don’t even remember what movie we went to see, but I do still remember Barry sliding off that couch laughing like I had never heard him laugh before.

Ari Cohen

For those who do not know what spray hair is:

This Shabbat occurred the week before he went in to the hospital for the final time; when Barry, Amy and the trips were spending Shabbat in Modi’in by their cousins and considering our neighborhood to be their touch-down location for their aliya.

We spent time speaking after davening, both Friday night and Shabbat day, and had the honor to host the Shuter family on Shabbat afternoon for Seudah Shlishit. The trips hit it off with our 7 year old daughter and 5 year old son and everyone was enjoying themselves tremendously.

We got to hear about Barry’s fight against cancer, his desire to move to Israel for the good of his family (even when job prospects were unclear), and what drove him in life.

As I understood during a shiva visit after his petirah, we were able to see a side of Barry that very few saw – he was very outgoing and comfortable around others while spending that Shabbat in our community. It seemed to confirm that Israel (and possibly our neighborhood) were the right place for him and his family.

Unfortunately, Hashem had other ideas. While Barry’s final resting place is in Israel and his family has made aliya and found a wonderful community to settle in, this was obviously not what Barry had intended.

All I can say, is that it was an honor to meet Barry, even just that one weekend – he strengthened my belief that our aliya was the right thing for our family and that with the proper desire and belief in Hashem, we can make all our dreams come true.

As we start saying Selichot before Rosh Hashana and come upon Barry’s birthday, my hope is that Barry’s memory serves as an inspiration to all to strengthen their bond with Hashem and do everything possible to make their dreams come true. Life is precious and we need to take full advantage of that.

May Barry’s neshama have an “aliya” due to the positive influence he had on so many other people, throughout his too-short life.
ת.נ.צ.ב.ה

P.S. Who would have thought at that time, that I (as gabbai) would be giving Barry his last aliya l’torah…surely, not I.

Larry Stern

On this nap time, something went wrong.  I never close the bedroom door because I always wanted to hear if someone would call. Eventually, nap time was over and the door was shut tight. I could not get into the bedroom, neither could the Trips get out.

Here I am, assuring them that every thing will be ok, but I could not convince Elly, and once she began to cry everyone began crying.

I tried my best to stay calm, so I ran down to the basement in search for some type of tool to take that door off it’s hinges. I found a Crow Bar, but to a Trinidadian woman it’s known as a Pig Foot.

When I was done with the door, you could have lifted the poor door from side to side.

Now my faith began when BARRY walked in from work. He was greeted by “DADDY, DADDY, Erica broke the house!”  While all three escorted him upstairs to see the damage, I on the other hand was sitting quietly downstairs in fear of what might be the outcome.

On their return BARRY asked, “Erica are you ok?” I answered quietly, ” yes.”  He then went on saying, “Don’t be afraid, thank you for your quick thought, without calling 911.”

“The door can be REPLACED but the Trips are IRREPLACEABLE.”

Gone but not forgotten Barry will always be remembered by Papie and Erica.

Erica Glenda Mclucas was the Trips wonderful babysitter and caregiver from 3 months to 3 years old.

I was not the best golfer. There was one time I hit the ball and it went flying into a tree.

The next thing we know a bird fell out of the tree with my golf ball. Barry said “Cool! You got a birdie!”

He proceeded to mark my card with a birdie at that hole.

Naomi Weintraub

At one point Barry was working in New York City and would take the train and subway to work.  One morning on the subway, the only seat left was one that had water or schmutz on it.  Barry took a newspaper and spread it out on the seat so he could sit down without ruining his clothes.

He was riding along, quietly minding his own business in his very Barry-way. All of a sudden, he noticed an older gentleman trying to get his attention from across the car. Barry leaned in and the man asked “Pardon me, are you reading that paper?”

Barry slowly stood up.

Turned the page.

Sat down again.

And said “Yes, I am.”

Amy

When Ari and I began dating I was living in Albany. Ari would come up periodicallyfor shabbasim and one time he brought Barry. Barry went out for a walk Friday night and Ari took the opportunity to tell me that he loved me. At which point I quickly responded “That’s nice” and walked into the living room. A few minutes later there was a tap at the door. Barry was there. When I came down to Merrick to tell our families that we were engaged…Barry was there. At our engagement party,our wedding, the first birthday party for our twins…Barry (and Amy) were there. Even when he was not present physically he was always there.

I was very lucky to be a part of the special relationship between Ari and Barry, andI have many great memories of the quiet one. But the most prevalent feeling that I have of Barry is his constant presence. I hope that we were able to be there for himas he was for us. And I hope that we can be there for Amy and the trips in the future. I know that he will always be watching, protecting, smiling over his family, friends and those whose lives he has touched. Even now, in everything that I do…Barry is there.

Leah Cohen

Amy and I had been close in our high school/college years and we attended each other’s weddings, but then we pretty much lost touch. When I heard that Amy and Barry were making aliyah, I was thrilled! We just recently came on aliyah ourselves and were excited to reconnect.

But what I want to write about now is how Barry’s illness, and what Amy and her family are going through, changed our lives (and those of countless others, I am sure). Barry’s illness taught us never to take a moment with our loved ones for granted. It taught us to hold our children more tightly, value our time with them, and treasure the innocence in their faces. It taught us that we must be strong, that we must use our prayer and our faith to guide us, and that we can never truly understand the bigger picture, though we must do our best to accept it.

What I want the triplets to know is that their father’s struggle, and their mother’s strength, brought people of all faiths and backgrounds together. We prayed, we cried, and we surrounded them with one giant, loving embrace. That is what the triplets need to know. We are all their family. When we look at them, we see our own children and our hearts ache. When we look at Amy, we see ourselves and our hearts ache.

Barry’s illness indirectly taught us all how to live more meaningfully. And that is something that I hope they can understand.

Chana Wurtzel