As Howard writes below, all of us today are anxious to learn more about the developments in Dan’s murder investigation. This may take a while but we are grateful that it finally looks like there is movement. For those heading to LSA NOLA next week, plans are underway for a MarkelFest gathering. Stay tuned. Meanwhile, on this day when we are anxious to know more, but when we also know that nothing will bring back Dan, I wanted to share here, on the blog he founded and with the community he knitted together, the words I said at Dan’s memorial last month at Harvard.
For Dan
Dan our beloved friend – ʻOlam u-meloʼo– a world in its entirety, full of life, radiating energy and warmth, building friendships, spreading love, creativity, and joy.
Dan and I knew each other here in law school but our friendship truly began as we began our teaching careers. All of us newbies, baby-professors – prawfs spelled R-A-W as Dan coined us – were in many ways raised by Dan. Dan was our peer but he was wiser and he realized early on what is important. He taught us to speak our minds, to write more and to write less, to think fast and slow, to experiment – to write differently, in different mediums and style – to write articles but also books and blogs – and to embrace broader audience. To theorize but to connect with practice. He helped us move beyond conventional anxieties of tenure and hierarchy and instead care about the ideas and the research and the teaching for their own sake, to care about building our institutions, contributing to our community, energizing our student, in the class and beyond, enriching our minds through engagement and conversation, even or especially if that meant taking risks and even if it meant that sometimes you get it wrong or imperfect.
And Dan was brilliant. A brilliant scholar, a gifted writer, a fearless thinker. He knew how to capture the essence of a difficult topic, to understand the underlying logic of current debates, and he pushed us all to fine-tune our thinking. He knew however that more important than any one piece of scholarship, however groundbreaking and well-received, are the exchanges and friendships among colleagues. He also understood that intellectual engagement cannot be done right without heart, without knowing the people and lives behinds the theory and concepts.
And so the Markel network grew. We absorbed and internatlized his sense of community and, with Dan as our leader, our glue, we connected. Dan’s generosity, with his time, his thoughts, his wisdom, with his friendships from the many paths he took all around the world, was infectious. His warmth and openness were irresistible. Dan knew everybody and he wanted everyone he loved to know each other. I know that many of us here today would not know each, surely not be close as we are, if Dan had not introduced us. A month before his death, I received a card that a contribution by Dan was made in my name to Mazon, a nonprofit organization working to end hunger among people of all faiths in the United States and Israel. Every end of the semester, Dan invited his students to eat at his house. He cooked and invited people to meals, making sure no one is left without a home in the holidays. These little acts of kindness and bonding were typical and widespread.
In all of these interactions, Dan taught us that we can, indeed should, have fun in our serious endeavors, and magically he turned professional ventures into team adventures. He expanded for us conferences from the lecture room to the hallways, the restaurants, to the Sabbath dinner, to his famous happy hour, now called the Markelfest, which continues on, in his memory.
Dan lived life to the fullest: he loved learning, he loved trying out new things, travelling, meeting new people. He enjoyed practicing his Hebrew with me – he was a little shy when it came to speaking but his Hebrew was much better than he would admit and I remember him coming to professional talks in Israel that were completely in Hebrew and challenging himself to participate in the discussion. He even let me drag him to yoga classes – and he got into those twisty poses – though it wasn’t exactly his thing.
The last time I saw Dan was in Tel-Aviv the winter before he died. The same evening, he landed, after a very long flight, he came to my birthday party and danced through the night, wearing his Batman T-shirt. A few days later he came to my parents’ house for the memorial of my brother Danny who died at the age of 18 while serving in the Israeli army. In happy moments and in sad moments, Dan was there for you and he moved gracefully and naturally between the professional and the personal, the serious and the funny, the heartbreaks and the joys of life.
Most of all Dan loved his boys. Ben Ben and Linc, your Abba talked about you constantly. He loved taking you to Canada to visit your grandparents and your aunt. He was proud of you and protective. He fought to spend as much time with you as possible. On day he didn’t take you to day care, he made sure to come to the day care and have breakfast with you. When you weren’t together he missed you terribly and made sure to skype with you and always wish you goodnight. He had so many plans for you. The last time we talked Dan was full of excitement. We were on different continents but he video-skyped to show me the beautiful beach house he and Amy were staying at in New York. He was as usual bragging about the boys and was talking about all the fun things he was planning for summer. He was in love and he was happy. Dan, Achi, shalom haver, naamta li meod, we miss you every single day.
Posted by Orly Lobel on May 26, 2016 at 03:29 PM
Comments
This was a moving and beautiful tribute to Dan. His ultimate legacy will be his two sons, Benjamin and Lincoln. This world and the profession of law was blessed having had Dan be a part of it. So many miss him and remain devastated at how his life was tragically cut so prematurely.
Posted by: Ann Harlow | Jun 6, 2016 10:47:06 PM
This is a lovely tribute to him.
Posted by: Margaret Ryznar | May 30, 2016 4:40:14 AM
Thanks for posting this, Orly.
Posted by: Orin Kerr | May 27, 2016 1:36:44 AM