This is a reprint of George Cantor's first column for the
Jewish News on Sept. 26, 2003.
enormous love of music, particu-
larly show tunes, and could recite
from memory the entire lyrics from
musicals. At one point, he created
and sought to syndicate a radio
show called More Than the Music,
sort of a Casey Kasem's American
Top 40 but focusing on pre-rock
'n roll popular songs. He also per-
formed in a band with DeLisle.
After a few years of travel writ-
ing, George moved to general
reporting at the Free Press, but
longed to share his views as a col-
umnist. In 1979, he was given that
opportunity a couple blocks down
Lafayette Street at the Detroit
News. George also expanded into
broadcast media, doing "Looking
at Detroit" commentaries on WWJ
radio and "Slice of Life" spots on
Channel 7 newscasts.
George continued writing his
column and editorials for the
News until 2003 when he assumed
a similar role at the Jewish News,
where he could focus on topics of
interest to the Jewish community.
This past April, he received
the lifetime achievement award
from the Detroit Chapter of the
Society of Professional Journalists
at a banquet attended by scores
of friends and admirers. Rabbi
Harold Loss of Temple Israel in
West Bloomfield gave opening
remarks at the event. "It was a
great moment for those of us who
were with him:' the rabbi said.
Just this month, George
received a plaque commemorat-
ing his upcoming induction into
the Michigan Jewish Sports Hall
of Fame, which will be formally
acknowledged at a banquet at the
Jewish Community Center in West
Bloomfield on Oct. 25.
George began his 35-year romance
with Sherry on a blind date in July
1975. A month later, they were
engaged; that December, they were
married. Over the years, they have
been active at Temple Israel, where
George was part of the temple's
Minyan Corps, leading memorial
services at houses of mourning.
George also led bus tours of
Jewish Detroit and assisted with the
local Maccabi Games and Special
Olympics. In addition, he taught
journalism at Wayne State and
Oakland University in Rochester.
Continuing To Write
George was extremely close to
his daughter Jaime and cherished
her and son-in-law Michael Ben's
children, Caryn, 41/2, Matthew, 2,
and Hannah, 8 months.
Even in his final months, George's
spirit remained irrepressible. He
continued writing his JN column
and penned a book, scheduled to be
published, about Jamaican Olympic
sprinting champ Usain Bolt.
"He loved writing for the Jewish
News," said brother Michael. "All
he wanted was for people to read
him. He thought he had some-
thing of value to say."
In 2001, George wrote a book
about his late daughter, titled
Courtney's Legacy: A Father's Journey
"George was a very private
guy," said DeLisle. "He opened
up his soul about Courtney's loss.
The pain that he talked about ...
I don't know how anybody could
survive that."
At George's funeral, Rabbi Loss
noted that Courtney wrote about
her father in an essay for a class.
"My father is my knight in shin-
ing armor," she wrote. "I respect
and admire him; he is brilliant. I
only see good when I look into his
eyes."
Said Sherry, "There was a mas-
sive outpouring of sentiment
when our daughter passed away.
And now she will greet him, and
they'll be together."
George Cantor is survived by
his wife, Sherry Cantor; daughter
and son-in-law, Jaime and Michael
Ben; grandchildren, Caryn,
Matthew and Hannah; mother,
Evelyn Cantor; brother and sister-
in-law, Michael and Joyce Cantor;
nephew and niece, Josh Cantor and
Amy Cantor; brother-in-law, Barry
Bershad; mother-in-law, Sylvia
Bershad; and many loving family
and friends.
Mr. Cantor is the cherished father
of the late Courtney Cantor and lov-
ing son of the late Harold Cantor.
Interment was at Clover Hill Park
Cemetery. Contributions may be
made to Temple Israel's Courtney
Lisa Cantor Travel Scholarship
Fund, 5725 Walnut Lake Road,
West Bloomfield, MI 48322, www.
temple-israel.org . Arrangements by
Ira Kaufman Chapel. El
Grasping My Father's Kiddish Cup
T
he cup I never
wanted to own
now sits in our
dining room cabinet.
It was made by a
silversmith somewhere
in Eastern Europe —
maybe Warsaw, maybe
Vilna or Minsk — dur-
GEORGE
ing the 1880s and has
CANTOR
Reality Check been passed down to
the eldest son in our
family ever since. My
great-grandfather, a chazzan in Lithuania,
bought it and now it belongs to me.
For my entire life, it was the Kiddush
cup my father drank from as he made the
blessing over the wine on the holidays. He
died in June, and now I will
hold it in my hand and
recite the prayers when
we sit down for our
Rosh Hashanah meal.
In my father's house,
there were certain customs
about this meal. No horse-
radish would be served with
the gefilte fish because
there should be no hint
of bitterness for the new
year.
There was also no salad
served at the meal. I never
could figure out why and
he never really gave me a good
answer. Instead, he told a story
about a little shul. Whenever
the Torah was taken from
the ark and carried into
the congregation, every-
one would bow when
they reached a certain
point.
Why did they do
The inherited cup
that? No one had
the new year.
an answer, so they
went and asked the
aged retired rabbi. "In our old shul," he
explained, "there was a low ceiling and
when you got to that point, everyone had
to duck."
I suspect that was the case with the
salad prohibition, too. Maybe some dress-
ing had gone bad one time or other dur-
ing the last century and everyone decided
they could do without.
The only time I ever had to miss one
of these meals, I had a good excuse. I
was in Israel, sent there on assignment
to write columns about the illusory
Oslo Accord in 1993.
I attended services at the Reform
seminary in Jerusalem and then sat
down to a communal dinner there. I
cannot remember if they served salad
or not.
I've got to confess, since this is the
season for confession, that I was once
sorely tempted to miss another part of
the High Holidays.
I was a baseball writer in 1968 and
the Tigers were the biggest story in
town, the biggest story I had ever cov-
ered. The first game of the World Series
would match Denny McLain
against Bob Gibson,
regarded as the two
best pitchers in the
game. It would fall on
Yom Kippur.
Another Jewish writer
urged me to go to St.
Louis. He said that he
intended to stay in his hotel
all morning, walk to the
stadium and refrain from
eating. But that wouldn't
do it for me.
The temptation lasted all
of five seconds and was then
discarded.
Instead, on Yom Kippur night,
I flew into St. Louis and covered
the rest of the series.
Because I knew what my
father would have said if
I had left before that, and
I did not want to face his
disapproval.
Now he is gone, the
I'll use to bless
one man whose approv-
Photo by Angie Baan
al I had always sought,
and the first holiday
arrives without him.
But his Kiddush cup already has been
put to use. At my daughter's wedding in
August, she and her new husband held
it to their lips and drank as they com-
pleted their vows.
As for now, it is in our dining room
cabinet. My link to the past, my bond
with the future.
❑
Obituaries on page 78
Obituaries
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