Shooting Elie Wiesel Aubie Baltin retired in 1988 and now, at age 54, he is ready to go back to work. But he won't be a stockbroker again. Mr. Baltin, who began his working life as a 13-year-old in the construction business, says he has learned things in retire- ment he never understood when he sat behind a desk. He admits his views may not be entirely kosher according to traditional Jewish views, but he insists the wisdom he has gleaned about the nature of labor is firmly rooted in Torah. As a working person, he says, his biggest mistake was that he spent all his time "doing things for money." "If you do something you don't enjoy, if you work just for mon- ey, it is called work," Mr. Baltin says. "But if you do something you enjoy, it is called play, right?" Mr. Baltin was born in Cana- da, and 15 years ago he moved to New York, where he spent a decade "pursuing money, which was stupid: I should have just done what I wanted, and I would have made a ton more money in the end." He moved to Palm Beach Gardens, Fla., five years ago. Even though work is neces- sary, he says, no one should la- bor at something they do not love. "There is no rule in Torah that says you have to be an elec- trician or a plumber or a physi- cist. There is no rule that says you can't do something you en- joy," he says. "When you do the thing you love you will make money, because you will be good at it." Mr. Baltin used to work 12 to 18 hours a day at a job he did not love. "I was always prospecting, I never stopped reading, and you know what it did for me?" he asks. "It made me enemies. You could never do what's right, and the clients turn you into a pros- titute. "I was taught improperly," Mr. Baltin explains, "and I had to re- tire before I had time to reflect on these things." He began to find that time when his father died, and he returned to the syn- agogue after a 40-year absence. In addition to saying kaddish for nearly a year, Mr. Baltin began reading Torah. Free-lance photographer Dina Goldstein didn't want to go to work that day. A close friend had been killed the day before — hit by a car — and Ms. Goldstein, 26, of Van- couver, British Columbia, had spent the night crying. Now she was supposed to spend the day taking pictures of Elie Wiesel. "I thought to myself, 'My God, I can't do this! I'm a mess, I haven't slept.' But I knew this was a special assignment." , She dragged herself out, and had been tak- ing pictures for a while when "suddenly Elie Wiesel asks me why I look so sad," Ms. Gold- stein recalls. She shared a little of her suffering with the famous chronicler of suffering, and found that his attentions helped to ease her pain. "I was so glad I got up and went into work. Being around him made me feel a lot better," says Ms. Goldstein, who came with her parents from her native Israel to Vancouver when she was 8 years old. Ms. Goldstein, who fell in love with photog- raphy during a 1990 trip to Israel, explains that her work in the Jewish community is especial- "I found that there was not one single story where I have the same interpretation as the rab- bis," he says with a laugh. Mr. Baltin says that Torah is a guide to enlightened self-interest, that "all the laws of Torah are in- tended for our own immediate benefit, and they should be fol- lowed for our immediate benefit, not out of fear or love of God." Where Torah teaches humili- ty, for example, Mr. Baltin un- derstands that "if you are not humble, you lose — and it doesn't matter if you are right or not. If you are an arrogant [jerk], nobody cares if you are right." Torah says we should be hon- est with everyone, "and that's how Rothschild got rich," Mr. Baltin says, "because the king could trust him never to cheat." Likewise Torah says that "everything you do has to be mit- igated by a sense of justice and fairness," and Mr. Baltin, look- ing back on his own career as a stockbroker, finds that "even if my intentions were good, or I could lie to myself that my in- tentions were good, I did things strictly out of my own short-term self-interest, which inevitably turned out not even to be in my interests." After eight years of retire- ment, studying Torah and pon- dering his deepest wants and needs, Mr. Baltin finds he is ready to go back to work. Re- tirement, he says, "will kill you. Look what happens when you take a mentally deficient person, for instance, and give them a job: they come alive. Before that, you can give them everything, food and shelter and comfort, but they are dead. What work does is, it gives a person the satisfaction of being alive." Mr. Baltin explains that he now has the luxury to look for work "where I can help some- body more than I help myself." But he adds that, by his reading of Torah, "all jobs are necessary; it is not for us to judge what is a low job or a high job. "If each person does his best at a job he enjoys," Mr. Baltin says, "he is fulfilling God's pur- pose. All God wants is for us to be happy." E —AKS PHOTO BY DANIEL LI PPITT Do What You Love Judge Avern Cohn: Enforcing society's rules. The Brass Ring Avern Cohn can't remember ever having a bad day at work. At age 72, he figures he has got it made: a job for life, the respect of his peers, the op- portunity to be involved in his communi- ty. But the best part, he says, is that he gets to use his position to implement his Jewish values. As U.S. district judge for the eastern dis- trict of Michigan, the Bloomfield Township resident said he could have retired three ly rewarding "because it gives me a real sense of belonging, a sense of purpose. A lot of other people, non-Jewish people, might shoot a bar mitzvah, for instance, and not understand the meaning and the essence of it." Likewise, when she goes to shoot a wedding, she finds the connection she makes with the couple almost as rewarding as the final pictures themselves: "It means so much to me to know that people trust me. It can be a huge respon- sibility, and they trust me to handle it." Ms. Goldstein considers herself Conservative in her Jewishness, observant of tradition, though perhaps not of ritual. While she declines to spec- ulate on the broader "Jewish" understanding of work, she knows that in her own life, a piece of work is satisfying when it challenges her. "Anybody can get a picture, but not anybody can get a special picture, something that makes it yours completely, that shows that you saw it in a way nobody else could see it." And that is the picture Ms. Goldstein gets up each morning to pursue. 0 —AKS years ago, "but I have my health, I have my intellect, I have an interest in what I do. I could not imagine that retirement could be more satisfying than this." Prior to taking his seat on the bench in 1979, Judge Cohn was a partner in a law firm. Today, as one of only 700 fed- eral judges in the nation, he is part of an elite corps. Judge Cohn says he is honored to be in a position to affect the life of his com- munity. A judge's primary role, he said, is to enforce "the rules that society has es- tablished." But a judge can have an even more powerful influence, too. Judge Cohn, for instance, presided over the waning days of the Detroit school de- segregation battles. Rabbis argue that a Jew can make work meaningful by integrating the pre- cepts of Torah into the daily grind, and this is just what the judge tries to do. He says that his Jewish heritage has giv- en him "an understanding of the less for- tunate, and a certain amount of sympathy with my fellow person." When it comes to enforcing the criminal statutes, Judge Cohn says he feels he has done his job well "if I can bring a bit of corn- passion and understanding" to the pro- ceedings. "Some judges have an imperfect heart: they are harsh, vindictive, narrow. I like to think of myself as having — not a perfect heart -- but the absence of an imperfect heart." 0 co 0) 0) co —AKS 2 w 0 U-1 U) 59