WE REMEMBER
ONE of the many things the coronavirus pandemic has taken from us is the chance to comfort the grieving. In time, we’ll be able to hug one another again. For now, all we can do is recall their lives through the eyes of those who’ve known them best: family, friends and colleagues. May their good works live after them, inspiring us all to be our best, most compassionate selves in their honor. Joan Cohen, 77
Somerset, NJ
Erica Lyons remembers her mother, who died April 13.
My mother and I spoke nearly every single day. And although I relocated to Hong Kong 17 years ago, I never felt far away.
She was a lifelong learner who was valedictorian of her high school class in Asbury Park, NJ, and went on to earn a BA in history, a MA in constitutional history and — in her 40s— a degree in accounting and her CPA. She embraced new technology and social media (though, admittedly, with some hiccups!). In recent years, she enrolled in adult education classes.
Everything she did was done with an intense passion. She was outspoken and bold. While politics, drawing often on her knowledge of constitutional history, was always an interest, in recent years, she joined numerous protests to voice her opinion on causes that were important to her. In addition to political causes, she was deeply committed to Jewish causes and the global Jewish community.
She was extraordinarily active. She trailwalked nearly every day with friends, traveled internationally and kept a packed social schedule. She never knew how to slow down and accepted no limitations.
What mattered most to her, though, were the people she cared about. Her expansive group of friends grew exponentially over the years. Her family was her raison d’être. She was entirely devoted to my father, her husband of 53 years (who survived her), to me and my brother, and to her seven grandchildren.
To see my family, she constantly shuttled back and forth between Philadelphia and Hong Kong; she was always there to help with my four kids, to witness milestones and to celebrate.
She was filled with love and light. It’s still present in all of us. Joel Kupperman, 83
Sheepshead Bay
As a philosophy professor for 50 years, Joel Kupperman taught thousands of students at the University of Connecticut.
But Kupperman, who passed away April 8, was thrust into the national spotlight decades earlier. In 1942, when he was just 5 years old, he made his first appearance on “Quiz Kids,” a radio show that later aired on television. Clad in a cap and gown, Kupperman and other child prodigies answered trivia questions on topics from science to sports.
“I didn’t realize just how famous he was, what a big deal he was, for awhile. It was a family thing that we didn’t talk about,” says his son Michael Kupperman, a comic artist and writer in Crown Heights. “He had magic tricks done for him by Orson Welles; he met Marlene Dietrich. He was on radio with Bing Crosby and Chico Marx and all these famous people. He was a ball boy for Ty Cobb [during a 1945 exhibition game].”
He and the other “little geniuses” traveled to almost every state, appearing on about 400 shows and raising more than $1 million for the war effort.
“Children were suddenly fascinating on their own terms and not just imperfect adults,” Michael says. “These children were cute and funny and smart.”
But fame took a toll on Kupperman, adds Michael, who dug into the “Quiz Kids” era in a 2018 graphic memoir, “All the Answers.”
“The main thing I think the show gave him was a horror of being noticed. It gave him an impulse to be quiet and keep his head down,” Michael says. “He wasn’t intellectually flashy in his life. He didn’t even use math that much.”
At age 16, he left the “Quiz Kids” stage, where he was privately tutored while on the road, and later earned a doctorate at the University of Cambridge. (He chose a school in the UK, Michael believes, because no one there had heard of “Quiz Kids.”)
When he wasn’t in the classroom, the “shy” and “reserved” academic enjoyed listening to classical music. In addition to Michael, he is survived by his daughter, Charlie, and his wife of 56 years, NYU historian Karen Ordahl.
“He had been badly hurt by being so famous and having such a weird childhood,” Michael says. “He always did the work he needed to do and took care of the people around him. He was a moral person, a very consistent person.”