Simon Langer passed away March 5, 2021, in Italy where he had retired for the pat couple of years and was living in a small medieval town near Florence.
Wonderful guy. When we were on the track/cross country teams, we called him "Bones". He had this amazing ability to stretch out like a gazelle at the end of a race. I was always behind him, but close enough to watch him pull off these amazing sprints at the end. It always looked as if the person he was passing was almost walking, once he got full stride.
We even made up a group (Century City Striders) along with Jim Marks, Joel Goldman and Ron Wanglin, which had t-shirts printed up. Our biggest caper was to steal the Century City flag, from in front of one of the buildings at the entrance to Century City. Of course we eventually had to return it. But we did a victory lap at bhhs immediately afterwards.
Later, another time, we hit the fountain in Century City (a second time), with a full box of Mr. Bubble. The rent-a-cops were waiting and tried to chase us, which was pretty funny. There was a short-cut alley in back of Spaulding, which we would take whenever we went over to Rancho Park. But they didn't even see us take it, they were so far behind.
Of course Simon, was a lot more restrained than Ron, Jim and I. The four of us were on Roxbury drive for Halloween. They had shut down the street and were preventing anyone from throwing eggs. Some older guy, who lived with his mom was commenting to us how sad it was the police were preventing kids from having fun. He encouraged us to throw some eggs with him. Ron did and a police officer was right across the street. He came over and told us, he was going to arrest us, including the older guy. I took off running. He then threatened to send everyone to Sylmar for juvenile detention. Ron then took off running. So he took Simon, Jim and t he older to the station. Of course they released them later the same night.
He was a loyal and kind friend, who always thought of others. Of course if he ever got angry at someone, watch out. He was a tough Sabra and was never afraid to stand up for himself. I know he was very proud of his daughter and her accomplishments.
I'd like to thank each of you for your memories of Simon. They are each poignant and beautiful. Clearly, he's left footprints (and elbows) in your souls. I didn't know Simon well. Different grammar schools and we didn't overlap much. I do remember his smile, his unabashedly pride in being Jewish. His running. Your memories make me wistful, appreciative of his impact.
I remember Simon as a teammate in cross country and track. He was the heart of the team. I am incredibly saddened to hear of his passing. It was a really nice guy and an incredible inspiration for me.
My old friends,
I am saddened to read of Simon's passing and touched by all of your tales and tributes.
As I reflected on our times on the track and at Rancho Park, his gait and grin are indeed memorable. At first I thought gazelle and then thought he Simon ran more like a cheetah. As freshmen and sophomores (before I transferred), as I recall he could take me at any distance up to a mile, then I had him. I am looking forward to sharing our memories in person when the coast is clear!
Simon Hrimes (Chaim - this is a long story, so let me know if you want me to elaborate later) “Stringbean” Langer was born March 16, 1952 in Tel Aviv, Israel. His first weeks were questionable, so when his survival was assured, he was reborn, and for that reason he always celebrated two birthdays in March. His father, Menachem (Max) hailed originally from Lvov (Lemberg) and mother Hannah (Ann; nee Lerman) was also of a cultured European Jewish descent. His younger brother Doron was born three years later in 1955. Max served in the Motor Pool squadron of the British army in Mandatory Palestine, and then in the nascent Israel Armed Forces during the 1948 Israeli War of Independence. He became a skilled master mechanic, able to fix anything from tanks to half-tracks. I was told his father was secretly in the Haganah, and possibly Irgun, before it became part of the IDF. Irrespective, Vladimir Jabotinsky, the founder of Zionist revisionism, was held in high reverence in his household. After the 1956 Sinai campaign, his father grew wary of the constant fighting, and migrated to Los Angeles, first settling in the Fairfax area, and working as a mechanic in a local Texaco station. Simon started school (I think it was Crescent Heights Elementary), where he became friends with Jeff Frankel, who also later attended Beverly. His father soon purchased the station on Olympic, adjacent to Century City, until his retirement, where he was recognized as the pre-eminent auto mechanic in town. Simon worked there on Sundays, earning his $10.00 weekly allowance, which seemed like a small fortune in those days. I have wonderful memories of visiting him there on Sundays where his father would purchase deli sandwiches and a pound of halvah for all us from the new supermarket deli across the street. Simon was enrolled at Horace Mann Elementary school until graduation in 1966, and then matriculated at Beverly Hills High School.
It is true that Simon would laugh uncontrollably until tears welled up in his eyes. I remember once in Mrs. Malmuth’s (“don’t be so facetious”) French class, that Simon and I, sitting in the back of the room, started laughing. He soon started howling hysterically, and fell to the ground rolling on the floor. Mdm. Malmuth rushed over, startled, enquiring if he was having an epileptic fit. I assured her that Simon was just doing his usual impression of a laughing hyena, and we were sent, post-haste, to Mr. Haserot, the principal. Extremely fearful, I maintained a straight face, but Simon broke out laughing again. When we were told to quiet down or we would be suspended, Simon started laughing even more erratically; I was sent home, suspended for one day. I do not know what happened to Simon, possibly he was sent to the insane asylum for observation, but he returned several days later, and when he saw me, he immediately broke out in his hysterical laugh again, tears welling up in his eyes. We once got pulled over for speeding on our bicycles in Beverly Hills (yes, bicycles), and we got ticketed, primarily for Simon laughing out loud when he heard we were speeding; and we almost got incarcerated when he started laughing when the judge read the charges levied against us. This happened constantly over the years. I feel this trait was the reason Simon never found success to match his rhetorical skills as a trial lawyer, for all his adversarial advocate would have to do was to crack a joke, and then off went Simon laughing uncontrollably, and invariably losing the case.
Simon was a gifted runner, the best ever to have attended Beverly. He won the athlete of the year award in his senior year, and the banners for his record-breaking races were on display in the swim gym, not to be broken for another 30 years (wow!). I once challenged him to a 440 race; On the word of “go”, I sprinted out, and soon realized that Simon had not taken off. I turned around thinking I jumped the gun, but Simon waved me on. When I reached the finish line, I taunted him that I won the race, and he emphatically replied “what are you talking about, I finished the race even before you started!”. He was that fast. His athletic accomplishments were legendary at Beverly, and after graduation he won a track scholarship at Northeastern in Boston. He joined me at Cal Berkeley two years later, where we spent a glorious two years in each other’s company. We would go to San Francisco on the weekends, and enjoyed pizza and beer at LaVals and other Cal hangouts. Our last quarter, we took an honors seminar on contemporary American Literature by Ron Loewinsohn (basically literature of the beat generation and the San Francisco renaissance movement in particular). We excelled in the class, and Ron once took me aside and said “who are the two of you, you write like English professors”. I informed him that it was because of our 7th and 8th grade English teacher, Bernice Anfuso (her son Paul graduated with us), whose teaching was college level even at our early age. We mastered the expository essay, and learned to write cogently and lucidly, yet emphatically and persuasively.
After graduation I left for Northwestern and Simon attended USC in International relations. The following year he started Law School at Cal Western, where I would visit him during vacations. After graduation he took an internship in Washington DC, where I was also going for a post doc surgical specialty, and was going to move in with him. Unfortunately, I contracted Hepatitis B that summer, and had to postpone, and eventually cancel my plans, but visited Simon that year. He then went on to Columbia Law for an LLM degree, and returned to Washington to work in the commerce department, performing research for anti-dumping legislation. He also had a sub-specialty in air and space law.
He relocated to Los Angeles to devote himself to private law and had a variety of legal positions. He soon started seeing his childhood sweetheart, June Whyte, and they were soon married. He did not want a bachelor party, so I took him to magic mountain. The roller coasters intimidated us once we approached them up close, but we soon saw that Chuck Berry was performing at the amphitheater in a half hour. We quickly raced there, and to our surprise, there were just a handful of spectators in attendance, and we basically had Chuck Berry performing for what seemed like just for the two us. This was truly a special night. His wedding at Ma Maison on Canon was exquisite, and the two of them started a wonderful journey together. Their daughter Zoe Zane was soon born, and she became close to my two older sons. Like Simon, she attended Berkeley as an undergraduate.
Simon had a lot of quirks, and I can attest to him elbowing everybody during basketball. He had elbows like a grasshopper. When he had something important to tell you, and that was often, he would tap you with the backside of his long fingers on your chest, until he was finished, assuring you were paying strict attention to him. He introduced me to a lot: halvah, pita bread, falafal, Maccabbee and Pironi beer, and other delicacies. He invoked my stamp collecting hobby, and got me listening to swing and big band music, often regaling me with the lyrics of his favorite songs such as “I Can’t Get Started” (Vernon Duke/Ira Gershwin). He started me off reading the pulp western fictions of Zane Grey (his daughter's middle name), the detective works of Raymond Chandler and Dashiel Hammett, and the large tomes of the Slavic and Russian literary giants. He introduced me to the writers of the Algonquin Roundtable literary circle, as well as his favorites: PG Wodehouse, Bennett Cerf and other writers of contemporaneous social satires and light comedies. He had a tremendous range of interests with the common thread of “quality” tying them all together. Simon was a very interesting character to say the least.
Simon only once became angry with me, and quite violently. Sitting next to me in our 8th grade homeroom class, I whispered in his ear an inference to a crush he had on a girl in class. He exploded and pinned me to the wall. Our teacher Mrs Anfuso rushed to break it up, exclaiming what was happening, and Simon replied, “Ricky says I got the hots for a girl”. That girl he had the “hots” for happened to be June Whyte whom Simon married 25 years later.
Simon was not just my oldest, closest, and dearest friend, he was like the brother I never had, and I was treated like another member of his family, as he was mine. We experienced a lot together. He is responsible for making me into a lot of what I am today. As we all reflect on our lives, we can be thankful for the wonderful experiences we enjoyed with friends such as Simon, and for those wonderful memories these experiences left us with. Thank you, Simon, for all the myriad of memories; you will be sorely missed. You were a very special person. We all loved you.
Thanks Rick and thanks so many others of you for sharing your recollections of Simon, OBM. It's been a long time since I've seen or heard from many of you. But gosh, how could it be? Simon gone; so many other classmates gone? I also ran track and was on the cross-country team with Simon, Bob, Gary and others, and like our other deceased friend and classmate, Joel Goldman, OBM, I was amazed at just how good Simon (and Joel) were. Some people (like me) were inherently lazy, and only rose to the occasion when we had to (usually because I have having too much fun goofing off). Some REALLY worked hard to excel at whatever they did, be it in athletics, academics or any other endeavor. But to me seeing Simon run effortlessly like a gazelle, and watching him turn it on, going into turbo when he had to, was truly awe-inspiring. My four years at Beverly were not always the easiest, It was an exciting and turbulent time, a time of transition that we all shared together, I hope most of you were enriched from your experiences at Beverly as much as I was. In the Jewish Kabalistic tradition it is told that we live as long as it takes for us to finish our job, the purpose to which we were created, and we are given the gifts that we are endowed with to best enable us to accomplish that purpose. Some are given physical beauty or endowments, some are given athletic prowess, some wealth and some oratorial skills. But each of us are important, and without any of us, the world be incomplete. I recall hearing an interview with Muhammad Ali sometime in the 90s. The interviewer (the other Michael Jackson) asked him how it felt to be so famous. In his inimitable slurred voice from Parkinson's he answered:: "Lemme tell ya Michael, I am the most recognized man on the planet. I can have anything I want: money, women, political influence...but now that I've lost my health, I realize that it's all an illusion." As we get older; as our numbers dwindle it gives me pause to think of all the high souls that have already completed the race that we are still running. I hope that you've kept yourselves in good shape (physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually), and if you ever take a breather and happen to pop over to Israel (I live in Jerusalem) I'd love to share a cup of tea with you. .I hope that Simon and the others are cheering us on.
Robert Stein
Wonderful guy. When we were on the track/cross country teams, we called him "Bones". He had this amazing ability to stretch out like a gazelle at the end of a race. I was always behind him, but close enough to watch him pull off these amazing sprints at the end. It always looked as if the person he was passing was almost walking, once he got full stride.
We even made up a group (Century City Striders) along with Jim Marks, Joel Goldman and Ron Wanglin, which had t-shirts printed up. Our biggest caper was to steal the Century City flag, from in front of one of the buildings at the entrance to Century City. Of course we eventually had to return it. But we did a victory lap at bhhs immediately afterwards.
Later, another time, we hit the fountain in Century City (a second time), with a full box of Mr. Bubble. The rent-a-cops were waiting and tried to chase us, which was pretty funny. There was a short-cut alley in back of Spaulding, which we would take whenever we went over to Rancho Park. But they didn't even see us take it, they were so far behind.
Of course Simon, was a lot more restrained than Ron, Jim and I. The four of us were on Roxbury drive for Halloween. They had shut down the street and were preventing anyone from throwing eggs. Some older guy, who lived with his mom was commenting to us how sad it was the police were preventing kids from having fun. He encouraged us to throw some eggs with him. Ron did and a police officer was right across the street. He came over and told us, he was going to arrest us, including the older guy. I took off running. He then threatened to send everyone to Sylmar for juvenile detention. Ron then took off running. So he took Simon, Jim and t he older to the station. Of course they released them later the same night.
He was a loyal and kind friend, who always thought of others. Of course if he ever got angry at someone, watch out. He was a tough Sabra and was never afraid to stand up for himself. I know he was very proud of his daughter and her accomplishments.
Gary Schoenberg
I'd like to thank each of you for your memories of Simon. They are each poignant and beautiful. Clearly, he's left footprints (and elbows) in your souls. I didn't know Simon well. Different grammar schools and we didn't overlap much. I do remember his smile, his unabashedly pride in being Jewish. His running. Your memories make me wistful, appreciative of his impact.
Marc Ledergerber (Ledergerber)
I remember Simon as a teammate in cross country and track. He was the heart of the team. I am incredibly saddened to hear of his passing. It was a really nice guy and an incredible inspiration for me.Daniel Kahane
My old friends,
I am saddened to read of Simon's passing and touched by all of your tales and tributes.
As I reflected on our times on the track and at Rancho Park, his gait and grin are indeed memorable. At first I thought gazelle and then thought he Simon ran more like a cheetah. As freshmen and sophomores (before I transferred), as I recall he could take me at any distance up to a mile, then I had him. I am looking forward to sharing our memories in person when the coast is clear!
Rest In Peace Simon. Your memory is a blessing.
- Dan Kahane
Richard Phillips
This is going to be long, so bear with me please.
Part I
It is true that Simon would laugh uncontrollably until tears welled up in his eyes. I remember once in Mrs. Malmuth’s (“don’t be so facetious”) French class, that Simon and I, sitting in the back of the room, started laughing. He soon started howling hysterically, and fell to the ground rolling on the floor. Mdm. Malmuth rushed over, startled, enquiring if he was having an epileptic fit. I assured her that Simon was just doing his usual impression of a laughing hyena, and we were sent, post-haste, to Mr. Haserot, the principal. Extremely fearful, I maintained a straight face, but Simon broke out laughing again. When we were told to quiet down or we would be suspended, Simon started laughing even more erratically; I was sent home, suspended for one day. I do not know what happened to Simon, possibly he was sent to the insane asylum for observation, but he returned several days later, and when he saw me, he immediately broke out in his hysterical laugh again, tears welling up in his eyes. We once got pulled over for speeding on our bicycles in Beverly Hills (yes, bicycles), and we got ticketed, primarily for Simon laughing out loud when he heard we were speeding; and we almost got incarcerated when he started laughing when the judge read the charges levied against us. This happened constantly over the years. I feel this trait was the reason Simon never found success to match his rhetorical skills as a trial lawyer, for all his adversarial advocate would have to do was to crack a joke, and then off went Simon laughing uncontrollably, and invariably losing the case.
Richard Phillips
Part II
Simon was a gifted runner, the best ever to have attended Beverly. He won the athlete of the year award in his senior year, and the banners for his record-breaking races were on display in the swim gym, not to be broken for another 30 years (wow!). I once challenged him to a 440 race; On the word of “go”, I sprinted out, and soon realized that Simon had not taken off. I turned around thinking I jumped the gun, but Simon waved me on. When I reached the finish line, I taunted him that I won the race, and he emphatically replied “what are you talking about, I finished the race even before you started!”. He was that fast. His athletic accomplishments were legendary at Beverly, and after graduation he won a track scholarship at Northeastern in Boston. He joined me at Cal Berkeley two years later, where we spent a glorious two years in each other’s company. We would go to San Francisco on the weekends, and enjoyed pizza and beer at LaVals and other Cal hangouts. Our last quarter, we took an honors seminar on contemporary American Literature by Ron Loewinsohn (basically literature of the beat generation and the San Francisco renaissance movement in particular). We excelled in the class, and Ron once took me aside and said “who are the two of you, you write like English professors”. I informed him that it was because of our 7th and 8th grade English teacher, Bernice Anfuso (her son Paul graduated with us), whose teaching was college level even at our early age. We mastered the expository essay, and learned to write cogently and lucidly, yet emphatically and persuasively.
Richard Phillips
Part III
After graduation I left for Northwestern and Simon attended USC in International relations. The following year he started Law School at Cal Western, where I would visit him during vacations. After graduation he took an internship in Washington DC, where I was also going for a post doc surgical specialty, and was going to move in with him. Unfortunately, I contracted Hepatitis B that summer, and had to postpone, and eventually cancel my plans, but visited Simon that year. He then went on to Columbia Law for an LLM degree, and returned to Washington to work in the commerce department, performing research for anti-dumping legislation. He also had a sub-specialty in air and space law.
He relocated to Los Angeles to devote himself to private law and had a variety of legal positions. He soon started seeing his childhood sweetheart, June Whyte, and they were soon married. He did not want a bachelor party, so I took him to magic mountain. The roller coasters intimidated us once we approached them up close, but we soon saw that Chuck Berry was performing at the amphitheater in a half hour. We quickly raced there, and to our surprise, there were just a handful of spectators in attendance, and we basically had Chuck Berry performing for what seemed like just for the two us. This was truly a special night. His wedding at Ma Maison on Canon was exquisite, and the two of them started a wonderful journey together. Their daughter Zoe Zane was soon born, and she became close to my two older sons. Like Simon, she attended Berkeley as an undergraduate.
Richard Phillips
Part IV
Simon had a lot of quirks, and I can attest to him elbowing everybody during basketball. He had elbows like a grasshopper. When he had something important to tell you, and that was often, he would tap you with the backside of his long fingers on your chest, until he was finished, assuring you were paying strict attention to him. He introduced me to a lot: halvah, pita bread, falafal, Maccabbee and Pironi beer, and other delicacies. He invoked my stamp collecting hobby, and got me listening to swing and big band music, often regaling me with the lyrics of his favorite songs such as “I Can’t Get Started” (Vernon Duke/Ira Gershwin). He started me off reading the pulp western fictions of Zane Grey (his daughter's middle name), the detective works of Raymond Chandler and Dashiel Hammett, and the large tomes of the Slavic and Russian literary giants. He introduced me to the writers of the Algonquin Roundtable literary circle, as well as his favorites: PG Wodehouse, Bennett Cerf and other writers of contemporaneous social satires and light comedies. He had a tremendous range of interests with the common thread of “quality” tying them all together. Simon was a very interesting character to say the least.
Richard Phillips
Conclusion:
Simon only once became angry with me, and quite violently. Sitting next to me in our 8th grade homeroom class, I whispered in his ear an inference to a crush he had on a girl in class. He exploded and pinned me to the wall. Our teacher Mrs Anfuso rushed to break it up, exclaiming what was happening, and Simon replied, “Ricky says I got the hots for a girl”. That girl he had the “hots” for happened to be June Whyte whom Simon married 25 years later.
Simon was not just my oldest, closest, and dearest friend, he was like the brother I never had, and I was treated like another member of his family, as he was mine. We experienced a lot together. He is responsible for making me into a lot of what I am today. As we all reflect on our lives, we can be thankful for the wonderful experiences we enjoyed with friends such as Simon, and for those wonderful memories these experiences left us with. Thank you, Simon, for all the myriad of memories; you will be sorely missed. You were a very special person. We all loved you.
Leo(Yehuda) Frischman
Thanks Rick and thanks so many others of you for sharing your recollections of Simon, OBM. It's been a long time since I've seen or heard from many of you. But gosh, how could it be? Simon gone; so many other classmates gone? I also ran track and was on the cross-country team with Simon, Bob, Gary and others, and like our other deceased friend and classmate, Joel Goldman, OBM, I was amazed at just how good Simon (and Joel) were. Some people (like me) were inherently lazy, and only rose to the occasion when we had to (usually because I have having too much fun goofing off). Some REALLY worked hard to excel at whatever they did, be it in athletics, academics or any other endeavor. But to me seeing Simon run effortlessly like a gazelle, and watching him turn it on, going into turbo when he had to, was truly awe-inspiring. My four years at Beverly were not always the easiest, It was an exciting and turbulent time, a time of transition that we all shared together, I hope most of you were enriched from your experiences at Beverly as much as I was. In the Jewish Kabalistic tradition it is told that we live as long as it takes for us to finish our job, the purpose to which we were created, and we are given the gifts that we are endowed with to best enable us to accomplish that purpose. Some are given physical beauty or endowments, some are given athletic prowess, some wealth and some oratorial skills. But each of us are important, and without any of us, the world be incomplete. I recall hearing an interview with Muhammad Ali sometime in the 90s. The interviewer (the other Michael Jackson) asked him how it felt to be so famous. In his inimitable slurred voice from Parkinson's he answered:: "Lemme tell ya Michael, I am the most recognized man on the planet. I can have anything I want: money, women, political influence...but now that I've lost my health, I realize that it's all an illusion." As we get older; as our numbers dwindle it gives me pause to think of all the high souls that have already completed the race that we are still running. I hope that you've kept yourselves in good shape (physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually), and if you ever take a breather and happen to pop over to Israel (I live in Jerusalem) I'd love to share a cup of tea with you. .I hope that Simon and the others are cheering us on.