RIP Chandler

I remember Chandler mainly from the Jewish Women's Committee Against the Occupation vigils in front of the Israeli consulate. It's a tough cause to take up—people spit on you and scream at you, and there's not tons that a person can do from here. But he was there faithfully, holding the banner—like he was at every street protest I can remember, for decades. And always with a certain measure of optimism and wit and levity, which I never knew how he managed after so many years of being on the losing side.

I remember how when my friends and I were at a demo, we'd see his unmistakable tall figure approaching and say, "oh, Chandler is here, now the protest can start." Because it was true. If there was an injustice, he was out there fighting it, for nearly a century.

Like so many of our movement elders—like Manuel, Naomi, Miriam, Judith—all the friends and comrades I looked up to and lost in the past few years, I never conceived of him dying. He was too smart, too stubborn, to give in to something like death. He had too much to do.

He lived an incredible 96 years, only a fraction of which I was privileged to know about. You can read more here if you're interested (and trust me, he was absolutely fascinating).

Chandler was brilliant and empathetic and I will very much miss him.