Harry Sipelstein

Harry Sipelstein of Tarzana, California, passed away Monday, September 22, 2014 (27 Elul 5774). Services will be private. In lieu of flowers, please make a donation in Harry's memory to the Jewish Home For The Aging, www.jha.org/donate. Mr. Sipelstein is an Honorably Discharged Veteran of the United States Coast Guard, and served during World War II. Mr. Sipelstein is survived by his daughters, Arlene (Alan) Karpel and Debbi (Larry) Kuhn; his grandchildren, Jared (Heather) Karpel, Derek Karpel, Brandon Kuhn, and Shauna Kuhn; and his great-grandchildren, Zoe and Zander Karpel.

The following obituary was written by Mr. Sipelstein's daughter, Arlene-

My Dad: (Sept. 2014) Arlene Karpel

In his advanced years facing dementia, my Dad was as funny and quirky as I remembered him when I was a child. He was a proud New Yorker with a sense of humor to follow, which could be off-setting if one was not familiar with it.

He loved people and engaging with them. He was outgoing and talked to everyone and had a positive view of life. At the Jewish Home for the Aging, he held the distinction as the official greeter. He talked to everyone that entered and brought joy and laughter to all. Everyone knew my Dad and had stories to share with me. My Dad was the first Jewish rapper. He was always composing spontaneous ditties and would create them about any person whom he had just met. In his last months, he was still creating them for his great-granddaughter, Zoe, who always said, "Grandpa is so silly!"

My Dad had a beautiful voice and loved to sing, often at the top of his lungs. As a child, his parents wanted him to be a cantor. But my Dad had his own ideas, he was the rebellious, youngest child, continually testing his immigrant parents. As a child I would wake up hearing him signing. He never was concerned if anyone was sleeping, "If I am up, the whole world should be up".

He also loved to dance, especially to the Klezmer music. In the last day of his life you could see his feet moving as we played all the Yiddish music that he and Mom loved to listen to together.

My Dad spoke Yiddish fluently. He happily had opportunities to do so at the Jewish Home. Of course at times it was quite humorous as he would converse with other residents in Yiddish while they spoke back to him in Hebrew or Russian. In his last year, he began speaking to me in Yiddish, and it became a challenge to recall the language I knew as a child, having picked it up while my parents spoke it to one another so my sister and I would not understand what they were talking about.

He was a hard worker, facing many career challenges, but he never succumbed to self-pity. One of his thoughts that stuck with me throughout my career was his belief that there was no such thing as "a perfect job". Those words often helped soothe my idealistic views. Yes, his mantra included hard work, rise early, be punctual, and be honest.

He proudly never took a day off from work due to illness. Until the last few months, I never remember my Dad complaining of being unwell. In fact, Debbi and I were always taught to think about ourselves as being healthy and minimize our illnesses.

Some of my most treasured memories of my Dad was the time we spent together when I was attending and living at UCLA. The business that he owned at that time required him to work in the wee hours of the morning. On his way home, we would meet for lunch at Hamburger Hamlet in Westwood. He was so proud that I was the first college graduate in the family.

My Dad adored my mother. I remember when they were living in Las Vegas, and my Mom was in the Temple choir. We would join them for Shabbat Services, and he would proudly gaze at her, continually commenting that she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Although he would flirt with every woman who passed by, he never remarried or considered another relationship after she passed away.

As one of a few working Moms when my boys were young, I relied on my parents help for taking the kids to the doctor, dentist appointments, orthodontist, and sporting events, when Alan and my work schedules were in conflict. They were my model as I continue in their tradition with our grandchildren. There wasn't a show or event at Heschel Day School that my parents did not attend. My Dad was a volunteer during pizza day at Heschel's school lunch program. As he served the kid's pizza, he loved joking with all Jared and Derek's friends, and they adored him. Years later I would run into some of the Moms that ran this program, and they always remember his warmth and love of the kids.

I remember his kindness to others when Alan was Temple administrator. If he saw someone coming to services alone, he made it his mission to go over with my Mom and make them feel welcome. Alan and I spent many years entertaining in our home. I don't recall an event where my parents weren't there helping out so that we could spend time with our guests. All our friends continually told me they wished they had parents like mine.

When my parents first retired, they were looking for things to keep them occupied. I would often come home from work and find a room was painted in my house or redecorated. Rabbi Annes, Of Blessed Memory, teased us that our house began to fall apart after my parents moved to Las Vegas.

Although Alan was his son-in-law, he was a proud parent when it came to Alan's musical accomplishments. Dad was responsible for making sure he did concerts at Monarch Village, and the Jewish Home. As Dad's dementia increased, he could be heard commenting, "Why should I go to hear so and so, when my son-in-law is a concert pianist?"

Over 10 years ago, Alan and I discussed planning a trip to return to the shtetls of our grandparents. This year the trip came to fruition, and my Dad was so excited that I was going to Medzhibozh, home of the Baal Shem Tov, formerly in Russia, now Ukraine, where both his parents had immigrated from. Both sets of our parents will be in our hearts as Alan and I are on this journey.

Arrangements under the direction of Groman Eden Mortuary, Mission Hills, CA.