Opinion

Koch, proudest of Jews

One of the reasons I adored Ed Koch is that he reviewed movies like my grandmother reviewed movies. People may not remember this, but Koch had a long and illustrious post-Gracie Mansion career as a very bad movie reviewer. (A characteristic teaser Tweet: “Drive, don’t run, to see Ryan Gosling in ‘Drive.’”)

My grandmother devoured movies, too, and her reviews had Koch’s same slashing forthrightness and practical outer-borough sensibility. When I asked her what she thought of “Titanic,” she answered, “Enough with the water already.”

Many years ago, I gave my grandmother a moment of real joy when I told her that Koch had driven me home the night before from a dinner.

“Did you tell him I love him?” she asked. Actually, no. “Did you say thank you for saving us?” This was her unshakable view, and the view of many hundreds of thousands of New Yorkers: Ed Koch saved us. The city was in seemingly permanent decline when he took over City Hall, and he lifted up New York through sheer will, irrepressible optimism and hot air.

There was one other aspect of Koch’s gargantuan personality that moved New Yorkers like my grandmother. He was the proudest of Jews. He was just saturated with ethnic feeling, and rambunctious in his pride. His devotion to Israel was total, and he despised what he saw as an Upper West Side tendency to cringe and wring hands.

Koch will be buried in Manhattan, of course — he wouldn’t have had it any other way. And on his gravestone, he decided several years ago, will be the words of the “Hear, O Israel” prayer, and these lines: “My father is Jewish. My mother is Jewish. I am Jewish.” These words are not his own; they were the last words spoken by Daniel Pearl, the Wall Street Journal reporter beheaded by terrorists in Pakistan in 2002.

Even in death, Koch will be celebrating the two most important aspects of his epic life: his city, and his people.

Bloomberg View