September 5, 2006

Good morning. I’m Noel Silverman.

I’m Warren’s friend of many years.

I’m his Thursday evening tennis opponent of many years. And I’m his attorney, at least when it came to professional matters when he wasn’t, usually quite ably, representing himself.

He died this past Friday afternoon, unexpectedly and inconveniently. He could at least have had the consideration and circumspection to let us get used to the idea, and not to interfere with a long holiday weekend in the bargain. But somehow that wouldn’t have been Warren.

He leaves, well, all of us.

But most importantly and most immediately:

He leaves his beloved Mia.

The joy among joys of his life.

The person who made and embodied the home he came home to.

The person who gave as good as she got; somehow they found a way to bring out the best in each other.

As Warren would volunteer on many occasions: “It took three tries but I finally got it right.”

He leaves his children, Brian and Elisa, and Elisa’s husband Paul. He never claimed they were perfect (I’m the only one with perfect children) but he loved them very much and was proud of each of them becoming his or her own person.

He leaves his grandchildren, Ryan, Kyle, Parker and Isabel. (Well, you now what it says across the front of the old sweatshirt: “If I knew grandchildren were going to be this much fun, I would’ve had them first”.) He loved them quietly and uncompromisingly, and spoke of them whenever there was something to report on or he felt he could put in a good word without being boring about it.

He leaves his sister Lenore, and her family. He leaves his sister-in-law Lynelle, and her family. And us.

He was many things to many people, as I think most if not all of us are, but I knew him and will always remember him as kind and generous. I know there are those of you who don’t necessarily think first of his kindness and generosity when you think of Warren Mitofsky, but it must’ve been something you said or did; it certainly wasn’t his fault. And you’ll notice I didn’t mention gentle. He was kind and extremely generous, but not overly gentle. At least not so I noticed. But there were so many other qualities I admired, I never missed gentle. There was intelligent, how could you not notice, and quick. And fair, and straightforward. And funny. He loved to laugh, as we often did on Thursday evenings over a glass of wine when we had come off the tennis court. We didn’t laugh much on the court – serious stuff is, after all, serious stuff. But we did afterwards. And usually not about the tennis, which wasn’t too bad for two old guys.

And opinionated. Did I mention opinionated? Not to surprise any of you, but Warren was nothing if not opinionated. And Warren was most certainly not nothing. Which leaves us with opinionated. Somehow you always knew where Warren stood on an issue, unless it was of no consequence to him, in which event he’d talk about something else. So – take your choice. Would you rather talk with someone who is conversant with most of the important political and social issues of the day, and generally knowledgeable about them, and as happy to disagree as to agree with you, or would you prefer smiles and equivocation and deference? I never had any difficulty with that choice. You didn’t have to agree with him, but you did have to have some reason – preferably a good one – to support the position you took, and some passion to advance it or defend it. Warren liked fair and even difficult fights, but didn’t have much patience for one-sided discussions where he wasn’t learning anything. Opinionated was one of his best qualities.

I lost a very good friend on Friday, and I – like he, were he in my place – am neither understanding nor complacent about it. I will remember him, as I suspect will we all. It’s the least, and the best, we can do.

Thank you all for coming. Your presence is its own testimony. Time to let someone else talk.