Tag Archives: eulogy

Ernest Charles Greene
May 9, 1911 – February 8, 2004

My grandfather died last Sunday evening, and for me, this marked more than the end of one man’s life. It marked the end of Granny and Grandpa, the only couple I’ve ever known that loved each other so much and stayed together for so long, seemingly without ever fighting. Grandpa’s death also marked the passing of the last of my grandparents. Though I count myself lucky to have had grandparents well into my thirties, I was nevertheless deeply stung by the final disappearance of an entire generation of family.

Ernest Greene was actually born Ernest Greenberg, and his father changed the family name in 1918, when Grandpa was seven years old. I can only guess the name change was a safeguard against anti-Semitism or enmity toward Germans. He had a younger brother named Howard, a father named Abraham, and a mother I was lucky enough to know until I was four years old, Grandnanna Gertrude Greene. In photos I’ve seen of Grandpa in his youth, he was a striking young man with a full head of blond hair. He was a boxer, and he was also a jazz trumpeter and harmonica player. As I heard it, he met my grandmother, Helene Kupferman, at work; she was the boss’s daughter. Early photos of them show a playful young couple striking poses at the beach—him showing off his biceps and her kicking a leg to the side like a flapper doing the Charleston. When I looked through these photos with Granny years ago, she said, “Weren’t we cute?” They were.

I first met Ernest Greene when Continue reading →