Rick Handel

My recall ability may not be what it once was, and I may have garbled some details, but my sentiments about David Ledeen are very real. 

David and I met after I moved to Teaneck, shortly before the start of 9th grade at BF. After school, we'd often head to his house and make our way to the den and his family's well-tuned piano. David would claim the left side of the piano bench, I'd take the right, and we'd play a game of calling out tunes to each other and trying to play them spontaneously, four-handed, and with no sheet music to guide us.

David had a tremendous ear, prodigious playing skills, and an ability to play a song, even if he had only heard it once. I wasn't exactly chopped liver myself, and had there been any onlookers present, they would have been gobsmacked to hear our scintillating (or so we thought) renditions of offerings as diverse and challenging as Beethoven's 7th Symphony, highlights from Fiddler on the Roof, early British Invasion tunes, and even TV theme songs and jingles.

I don't know how David and I fell out of touch, but it happened nonetheless. I'll always remember his quick wit, his sense of humor and mischief, and especially those afternoon mini-recitals. He will be missed.

Happy birthday, Rick.