Central Florida's Independent Jewish Voice

Articles written by Harold Witkov

Sorted by date  Results 1 - 6 of 6

  • What I learned about my heart

    Harold Witkov, First Person|Nov 16, 2018

    "Tears come from the heart and not from the brain." -Leonardo da Vinci When I was 21 years old, I had a very personal spiritual experience. While contemplating a greatest power and imagining it above, I felt a divine spark deep inside of me; that is, inside of my heart. Since then, my belief in God has never wavered. Some 45 years later, I had another experience of the heart. This time I had a heart attack and open-heart bypass surgery. After the surgery, when I left the hospital, I had an unsig...

  • Here's to my (and your) better half

    Harold Witkov, First person|Jul 13, 2018

    As a 66-year-old retiree, I play chess recreationally a few times a week. For the most part, I play in chess clubs that are open to the public and are drop-in. Such was the case, recently, when I did something during a chess game that only a handful of chess players in the history of the game can claim: I suffered a heart attack while playing. It was late afternoon on a Wednesday. All the other chess players had already gone home for the day. Kevin and I were the only ones remaining, and we...

  • A mother's tears

    Harold Witkov, First Person|Nov 3, 2017

    According to my 93-year-old father, Arthur, the Witkov family had a ritual of sorts each time a son would go off to war. There would be a sendoff party of brave-faced family members, a new gift wristwatch presented by his Uncle Harry, hugs and handshakes, and a Blue Star placed in their Chicago Ashland Avenue apartment window (to show that a family member was serving in the armed forces). My dad's oldest brother, Sid, was the first to leave home. Next in line was brother Dave. And then it was...

  • An incredible friendship

    Harold Witkov|Dec 23, 2016

    They are two elderly gentlemen in their 90s who like to wear WWII veteran caps and go out for breakfast together on a regular basis. The two are Art Witkov, (my father), and Norm Bercoon. Their longtime friendship dates back to before the war. Art and Norm were high school graduates when they met at the N. Shure Company, located on Adams Street in Chicago. The two of them were both new employees, hired at the not-very-robust-wage of 35 cents an hour. My dad and Norm were among many who filled...

  • My mother's funeral (and Mrs. Gefilte Fish)

    Harold Witkov, First person article|May 8, 2015

    Everyone liked my mom, and during her 88 years of life, she shared a multitude of friendships. One special friend was a Holocaust survivor named Sylvia, some 10 years my mother’s senior. Sylvia was crazy about my mom. She would often tell the story about how difficult it was being a survivor trying to make “American friends,” and how she loved that my “American” mom loved her just as she was. Sylvia and my mom did many things together, including making gefilte fish. When my daughter Leah was in elementary school she helped her grandma a...

  • Bibi reads writing on White House wall

    Harold Witkov|Feb 20, 2015

    I once met a woman who was born and raised in Iran and lived under the Shah, and later, under Ayatollah Khomeini. I remember how she spoke passionately, in her broken English, about just how terrible the Shah of Iran actually was. When I asked her about life under the Ayatollah, she replied, “Shah bad, Ayatollah worse, much worse!” Of course, the Iranian leadership has come a long way since their Ayatollah Khomeini days. Unfortunately for the world, most of their progress has been confined to their department of great ambitions. Back in October...