Message from Alan Goschalk

A few years back, Dad was invited with us for a meal with the family in Jerusalem. A classic Israeli evening, with great food, raucous conversation and lively debate, some drinks, jokes, and of course lots more food. In his inimitable style, Dad was the perfect guest; polite and friendly, joining in with insights, stories and gentle humour.

‘Your father is quite a guy!’ was the first thing my host said after we had dropped Dad back at his hotel. Not I think how he how he would have described himself, but Dad was, ‘quite a guy’.

At home as a young child, he was Shia Nochum. Then at school and thereafter, Sidney.

Mum was the only person I heard use his Yiddish name and when I think back it was only sometimes. Moments of special endearment and love.

In the factory he was, Mr. Sidney, which I found odd. Of course, Uncle Izzy, his older brother and senior partner was Mr. Goschalk. I remember one of his old friends coming round and calling him, Sid; even odder.

As a family man, to us, Dad or Daddy.

Then Grandpa to his adoring grandchildren and great grandchildren.

And then in the digital age, Gpa!

Dad was amazing at adapting and keeping up with the times. He was open to change and curious to learn. Dad was a moderate, tolerant person. He often said to me, ‘other people can do what they like as long as they don’t interfere with me’.

I think this approach to life was rooted in his knowledge of the world, his respect for others and his deep-rooted religious belief. Of course, he didn’t always agree with the diverse life styles and attitudes he encountered but he would always accept and respect those differences.

Dad learnt about the world and how to do things through books. He told me that at school he was asked to give a presentation in English class on a chosen subject. When he told the teacher he didn’t have anything to talk about, fishing was suggested. Of course, he hadn’t done much fishing in Hackney, so after getting a few library books out, he went on to get top marks for the presentation and became an expert on fishing!

His passion for knowledge and breadth of reading never diminished. We had a running joke. I would ask Dad how many books he was reading and he would modestly say three or four, and then with a wry grin, explain – ‘not at the same time’ – which would never fail to make me smile.

The only regret Dad ever expressed to me was leaving school at fourteen and missing the opportunity to pursue further education. But of course, he more than made up for that by reading prodigiously for the next eighty-three years!

When Mya graduated from Cambridge University, Dad joined us. It was wonderful to see him at the celebratory tea party on that immaculate green quadrangle, conversing with the Master of the college of one of the world’s leading educational establishments. He seemed really quite at home.