My Friend Max
He was a sweet and generous spirit, and a man of sterling character. I had many questions about his life, but none were bigger than the one I have about his death. He was 39.
Max last month, after hiking the length of Israel.
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For me, Max’s face was the face. I remember thinking, when I encountered it and him, at a party in Brooklyn in March of 2023, “There it is.” His was a big head with a prominent nose and sad blue eyes that relaxed into crescent moons when he smiled, and a thinking man’s brow bone. His face was strong but kind, chiseled without being sharp. Max often wore…
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