Rick Hornung [fellow student at Trinity College]
Communicated by email
Dear Dr. Saltzman:
Many, many years ago, we met. I was one of the hands you shook as Bernice made the rounds of fellow students at Trinity. If memory serves, the year was 1975 – and I had just met your wife at the beginning of the fall semester. I was 19 years old and had just begun my studies as a religion major. On Tuesday and Thursday mornings, from 11:20 to 12:45, Bernice, Buck McCarthy, Mark Hendrickson, Annie Brown, myself and others whose names I cannot recall joined Dr. John Gettier around a set of formica covered conference tables. For 14 weeks, we studied the first 11 cahpters of Genesis. While I will not bore you with tales of how those 14 weeks changed my life, I’d like to take a few moments to reflect upon and remember the wonderful lessons that Bernice gave to me and others. From the very first moment, she taught us how conversation, dialogue, analysis, humor, competition, teamwork and above all, an open ended curiousity were gifts that honor the beauty of this text – and the beauty of life. As we debated and questioned, cajoled and pressed, tried to one-up each other and then come together, our class began to see how one passage can mean so many things to even a few people who initially believed that they were of like mind and soul. As Dr. Gettier taught from his heart, Bernice impressed upon us the need to learn with our hearts. Over and over again, she told us that nuance and inflection, tone and emotion were as important as theme and balance, plot and character. She had a way of speaking that opened all younger members of the class to a world of experience that was way beyond our years.
Bernice came to our class with the full throated roar of a believer, a person who could never shake the foundations of her faith in YHWH’s breath and spirit. Her voice came from His breath; His spirit fueled her intense desire to know and examine a subject; His fierce and jealous love, His power, drove her quest for answers to questions of theology and theocracy, parenting and maturing, holding on and letting go.
Again, if memory serves, this class took place shortly after one of your children had recenly made the decision to live in Israel. In our conversations, Bernice was so open about her fears and concerns, her innate trust of her daughter and her reasoned mistrust of an unstable world. Under the guise of working through the text and our commentaries on chapters and verses, Bernice spoke of her family and her struggles as a mother and wife, individual and daughter. By openly facing these matters and using our class as a forum for expression and inquiry, Bernice showed so many of us that she had the courage to accept her smallness in a large world. As a Jew, she gladly served her God and His majesty, knowing that it was the little mitzvahs that made a big contribution to life. She had the courage to see herself as human; she had the courage to be. Over and over, she embodied the simple facts that smart and honest people are humble; compassionate people are engaged and inquisitive; faithful and trusting people are able to surrender their individuality and work with others.
These are the lessons she gave to me.
Though I would wander during the past 25 years, I have always remembered and treasured her gifts to me and other members of this class. When I catch up with Dr. Gettier, we always take a while to remember and recall the bond that was created around those tables. To me, Bernice was instrumental in transforming those formica tops into a sacred altar of silver and gold, onyx and jasper.
To that room, she brought the knowledge that YHWH’s spirit and breath is present in all of us. I am so grateful to have spent a few moments with her. Please accept my condolences. I know that she was a vibrant woman devoted to life. From contra dancing to torah study, an incisive wise crack and belly bouncing guffaw to meticulous research, she approached every moment with a generousity of heart and mind that cannot be forgotten. While her passing is a moment of great sadness, I hope you and your family can take comfort from the fact that she made this world a better place for so many people.